#Overlord protocol

[caracarahoney]

That Scene In OP:

Nero: I don’t understand- what madness inspired you to do this? Money? Power? Revenge?!

Cypher, high on at least two painkillers and severely concussed: I miss my wife :(

[dr-nero-is-god]

Honestly the end of Overlord Protocol remains endlessly funny. Nero is like okay, Cypher. Why did you even do any of that. And Cypher is like, I needed Wing's amulet and the school to launch a full-fledged attack on number one because he is trying to revive Overlord. And Nero is like wtf that's soooo bad I had no idea. And Cypher is like woah okay I totally thought you were in on this. I guess this has been a huge miscommunication. Nero is like omg i guess so! And cypher is like, Anyways I mostly just want to make sure Overlord stays dead and that my son stays safe. And Nero is like well I am really happy to help on both counts. Anyways, I wish you were dead, GOODBYE.

[buildoblivion]

that episode was three distinct vibes and I adored all of them

[askvectorprime]

Dear Vector Prime,

How much weight does a Phase Sixer pull? Black Shadow could apparently aterilize worlds but the DJD took him down with a half-dozen elite bots. Are they just very destructive but not as ultra-deadly as they tend to think they are?

Dear Phase Phinder,

The Phase Sixers were powerful warriors indeed, and armed with a variety of incredibly lethal weapons, but ultimately they were just one cog in Megatron’s overall war machine. Ordinarily, the Phase Sixers were only dispatched to planets that had progressed to phase six of the Decepticon infiltration protocol, and been subsequently marked for destruction—meaning that the local Decepticon cell had already turned the planet’s inhabitants against each other, captured or neutralized strategic arsenals, erected impregnable planetary fortifications, and generally ensured that neither the local sapients nor any Autobot operatives had a chance at mounting an organized counterattack. Phase Sixers could indeed sterilize planets… but only because many other Decepticons had carefully maneuvered everything into place so that they could deliver the killing blow.

The Decepticon forces could simply have used one of their many battleships to incinerate a planet’s atmosphere and achieve largely the same effect, but the fact of the matter was that the Phase Sixers relied heavily on psychological warfare. A rumored legion of invincible, unkillable super-warriors capable of singlehandedly breaking worlds kept the lesser Decepticons in line and the rank-and-file Autobots on their guard.

However, loyalty through fear has its downsides. Many resentful Decepticons soon realized that they were doing most of the hard work, only for Black Shadow, Overlord, and Sixshot to take all the credit. It didn’t take long before resentful Decepticons began referring to the Phase Sixers as “glorified janitors”, “J-class soldiers”, and other such derogatory appellations—though only when the Phase Sixers themselves were well out of earshot!

[psalmsofpsychosis]

people that need the proper context and label for every single fucking thing in their lives and need it defined by Some Invisible Authority TM bore me to death. "this is the X space. X space rules state that X space is for doing Y and Z. Therefore in this space we do the assigned Y and Z functions and NOTHING ELSE, because that was not defined within the parameters of the space and IT'S INAPPROPRIATE." "this is a café; here you order coffee and food and do your job only make eye contact with people you've brought with you or keep to yourself" "this is a club, here you dance and drink alcohol and grind on strangers and suggest sex to people" "this is the supermarket; here you buy grocery and then go home" "this is the feminism circle; here you talk about women according to vague criteria and dont bring up anything else" what if i tell you that you can make a Barista's day brighter by pulling a baby duck out of your pucket and mimicking a duckie voice thanking them and wishing them a lovely day as they're registering your order? what if you debate Hegel's philosophy with someone in a club and you both find out that you've been trying for ages to look acceptable and well-within-the-shallow-lines and you dont have to? what if you go to the supermarket and a grandma asks you to tell them the name of earlier mentioned Duckie and you end up befriending a grandma that introduces you to the best 70s underground obscure psychedelic bands?

The point is, no space is truly defined to contain the full spectrum of spontaneous human expression. You cannot assign protocol behaviors to different "contexts" in a way that doesn't inherently diminish your humanity and kill you inside. the "Normalize blahblahblah—" you dont need normalization, you need your fucking personhood back. The context is you; you happen, other people happen, let yourself happen for fucks sake. "you can't chat a stranger up while you're both standing in line to get movie tickets" listen to me— their bag had a Batman and a Stitch keychain hanging from it, i wanted to tell them that i think Batman and Stitch would be best friends actually, in fact; i did! because here is the thing; i'm alive and i can show love when i feel it and i can do whatever the fuck i want. <3 I'm not gonna wait for some Almighty Invisible Authority TM voice to tell me which parts of my personality are green lighted for which artifically structured context, i'm a whole person, not a fucking puzzle, you dont get to tell me which parts of me do i pick out and leave outside the door as i enter a space. What dies within the inflexible bounds of "expected and appropriate behavior in expected and appropriate spaces" is the intelligent and exhilarating instinct of creativity and spontaneity, and you know what? not on me or my duckie's watch.

[poolseason]

more Ninjagelion AU

Setup: In the aftermath of a cataclysmic event on the Dark Island where humans accidentally awakened an entity known as the [OVERLORD] the world was plunged into eternal chaos. 20 years later, Ninjago has managed to rebuild. Now in New Ninjago City, a bustling and lively hub at the heart of Ninjago, has been under attack by monsters- onis, dragons, serpents, unexplainable beasts,- creatures made from the [OVERLORD]'s darkness. Luckily the Special Division ELEMENTS is here to protect the realm from these monstrous threats, with the NINJA mechs. This cant be possible without some valuable members of the team!

Characters, lore, and more ↓

Characters:

Pixal: In this au she's a human scientist, and probably the one person who knows the most about how the NINJA mechs are created. She's in charge of the technical division, and head of research and development. During a monster battle, her order's are second to Cole's. Her highest priority is the integrity of the mechs, to the point she might be a bit negligent of the safety of their pilots. Pixal is deeply involved in some suspicious agendas involving the secret entities hidden under the base, and while she's the most knowledgeable person in the force, she's not the most trustworthy. Pixal is Zane's personal "doctor" and knows more about his schematics than anyone else. She created the Nindroid plugs (aka the Dummy system, an autopilot of sorts) with his personality data. Pixal is also one of the few people who know what happened to the original Dr. Julien and Echo.

Jay: For a little history on him, Jay is on the younger side, have graduated from college a couple of years ago. He originally interned here as an electrical engineer in the Weapons Deparment, but Pixal saw his skill and ingenuity and gave him an unrefusable return offer in the R&D department as her right hand. Jay's parents, Ed and Edna Walker were colleagues of Cyrus Borg and were involved in the engineering and design of the Geofront and NNC's civilian safety infrastructure, so Jay's always been somewhat interested in ELEMENT's work. It was kind of a dream come true when the Pixal Borg hired him. During monster attacks, Jay's in charge of making sure the NINJA mechs operate properly, have access to their weapons and gear, and making sure the NNC fortress moves as needed. Jay's always seen with his goggles and he almost never follows uniform protocol.

Jay is also one of the few Technicians who personally work with the Pilots, he's one of the first people Lloyd warmed up to at ELEMENTS, and he becomes kind of a big brother figure to him after one particularly crazy mission when he has to personally go out onto the field with Lloyd in Unit-01. When Nya arrives the pair work together a lot outside of pilot training, but Nya definitely likes him and he... needs to figure some things out. whoops!

Skylor: Having grown up in the aftermath of the 2nd (Overlord) Impact, Skylor's seen a lot of destruction and cruelty, even first hand from her own father who lead a doomsday cult that wreaked havoc on innocent communities trying to survive in the near apocalyptic event. Vowing to protect the world from similar chaos, she joined the NINJA program's tactical division. When the monster attacks began, she's in-charge of monitoring the enemy's health, pilot life signs, and mapping.

Dareth: His last name is Presley bc of the Elvis hair and inspiration lmao. He's not really a high ranking member of the organization but Cole and the others seem to really trust him, despite his mess ups. Dareth normally handles ferrying radio messages between ground teams and mission control. Dareth is a relaxed guy who values a positive work environment, even if that kind of makes him a bad employee. He's a very good uncle figure to a lot of members of ELEMENTS

MORE Cole: Cole is the leader of the tactical division. He was drafted into the military when he was only a young teenager in the aftermath of the [OVERLORD] but he was recognized by Wu and not long after he completed college and grad school he was quickly hired by ELEMENTS to oversee the tactical division. He's vengeful towards the Overlord's darkness monsters because his mother Lily was the captain of the disastrous expedition to the Dark Island 20 years ago. The dog tags he wears are his own and his mother's.

Lloyd and Zane, on neural headsets: As pilots of a NINJA mech they have a lot of pressure on them, obviously this can cause a lot of mental turmoil and stress. In order to pilot a mech they must synchronize their own mind to their mech's soul*, so stress isn't really a good thing for a pilot to have. Zane was programmed to not experience such emotions, but over the course of the series, its proven that he grows to feel quite strongly and become more human. Despite his programming, the lack of emotion early on was actually a detriment to his ability to pilot, since the NINJA soul wouldn't be able to synchronize it's feelings with an entity that feels nothing. Sometimes its necessary for pilots to wear more complicated neural headsets and spinal connections for more controlled sync testing. During the cross-sync experiment when Zane and Lloyd traded units, they were stuck wearing extra uncomfortable test suits -- too many wires and junk! The only downside to extra connection is that the mech could overload and go berserk. (which big surprise, happened!), so usually Lloyd, the designated Unstable Pilottm, only needs the barebones neural interface in most situations.

[jinuaei]

So I have written some ideas for Yan Tarn, Overlord, and Rung + Reader dynamic. I'm keeping it lighthearted because MTMTE keeps breaking my heart. I'm planning on writing a fic as like an introduction but feel free to send in asks. (Don't expect lore accuracy I'm still on issue 15 as of writing this)

Both Tarn and Overlord think Rung as harmless so they let him hang around Reader.

If reader gets kidnapped by Overlord, Rung has to come with (as per reader’s request) ←- Daily occurrence btw, LL has protocols to fuck off when they see Overlord walking down the halls with you and Rung in his arms and Tarn coming back from Overlords cell (now basically his room) with both of you in his arms. (I imagine Rung using his microphone thumb to announce you both being kidnapped)

Oh yeah, Overlord routinely breaks out of his cell to kidnap you.

Rung likes you caring for him and melts when you call his name because you always remember. I feel like he’s clingy, but acts like it’s normal and as @/Xaythefreak says, feels guilty when he wanks. Self aware Yandere, and feels bad about it but can’t help but be drawn to you.

Definitely gets off to you calling his name because I say so.

OH MY GOD CUCK CHAIR RUNG — I AM SORRY BUT HE GETS THAT TREATMENT

Tarn would most likely let him participate because you want him to, or maybe he gets off seeing his deity fuck another bot which means he’d also willingly be cucked. (Smth smth he is not worthy to feel your soft, delicate skin against his rough, war-forged frame.)

Overlord will let Rung participate because you cry out for Rung for comfort (Ugh Rung talking you through it while Overlord rails you), but Overlord only lets you kiss Rung, maybe hold him too.

Cuteness aggression Overlord, mean bastard but wouldn’t hurt you really. Really selfish and jealous, doesn’t like that you prefer Rung but you wouldn’t give him any attention if he scares Rung away.

Overlord likes you angry but not crying, so he doesn’t hurt Rung because if he does you’ll cry. He likes to annoy you until you get angry and fight him (verbally and physically), he’d also hold you in his servo so you would struggle and attempt to fight him. Would kiss your face all over because of how cute you are trying to fight him. Maybe even nibble you a lil bit.

RUNG RELUCTANTLY BECOMING THEIR PSYCHIATRIST. Overlord ranting to rung about Tarn’s shit and vice versa.

Rung is basically Reader's emotional support bot at this point, but he doesn't care because he gets to be by your side wherever the two takes you.

If ever the four of you are in a room together, Rung is right next to you, holding your hand, comforting you(and relishing in your touch), while the other two are in a spike-measuring contest.

Forgot to add:

Overlord likes to be dominated, but plays with you first until you're pissed THEN he'll act like he's powerless. Still rather mouthy though as he's in front of you kneeling while his spike twitches in attention.

Yes, Overlord is now part of the 'will be put in a leash and collar' gang, maybe add the muzzle too.

[queenofmorningstar]

See You in Hell

Lucifer x Overlord! f! Reader

Summary: Lucifer and your bonding time gets a fatal blow.

CW: Canon-typical Violence. Reader is Injured. Reader has cryokinesis (ice) powers for plot reasons. Striker (Helluva Boss) (Eventual Smut & SlowBurn)

Word Count: 4.5K

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8

CHAPTER TWO

The morning in Hell was a strange thing. There was no soft light spilling through the windows. Just a dull red glow filtering in through the curtains. You looked over the Pentagram City, hands fisted on your balcony. You had come for him . Lucifer. The first and only being you’d ever truly believed in.

Your entire life, that belief had been your anchor. Through alienation, through rage, through the sharp sting of being othered, your faith in him had been the thing that kept you from being crushed under the weight of expectations.

You swallowed hard. It was foolish, you knew, to have built so much on an image. But wasn’t that what belief was ? A flame you held in your chest and fed with hope? You should leave. Go back to your district. You didn’t need to be here.

Except…

You’d wanted so badly to stand beside him. To matter to him. To be seen by him—not as another damned soul—but as someone who understood. The worst part wasn’t the awkwardness. Or the silence. Or even the let-down. The worst part was the grief. Grieving a version of him that had never existed—except in your head.

The shadows in the corner of the room began to stir. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.  No footsteps. No fanfare. Just the eerie quiet of something long used to moving unseen.

“Ma’am,” came the low rasp of your spy.

You turned, calm and sharp. “You’re late.”

The spy straightened. His face was mostly hidden, but the tension in his stance betrayed urgency.

“Well?”

“There’s been movement,” he said. “In your district. The Markets. Word spread fast that you’d left… and the roaches started crawling out.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Who?”

“No name worth remembering. He’s putting up a trap; you’d sawed through his horns through two years ago. Apparently, he’s forgotten the taste of fear.”

Your lip curled. Hell had a way of never staying still. When the cat went away, the mice start to play.

“And?” you said coldly.

“He’s rallying remnants,” the spy said. “Broken gangs, failed lords, exiles. All bottom feeders, and your enemies.”

Your laugh was bitter and low. Well, that does it. You’ve to return. These bitches won’t stand still otherwise. “I will return shortly. My assistant…?” 

“She has completed the protocol you put in these kinds of situations. We have all the sinners under your employ armed and ready.”

The spy only nodded once, and vanished.

You started to prepare yourself,  strapping on your boots, slow and methodical, each buckle clicked into place like it might anchor your resolve. You fastened the last strap of bracer, testing the weight of it with a flex of your wrist.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. Three taps. Slightly uneven. Hesitant. You opened the door and came face to face with Lucifer, adjusting his top hat. “OH SHIT–” he said, quickly standing straight. “Uh – Hi! Hello.”

You arched your brow. “Good morning, your majesty.”

“Yes! Right. I am. That’s me.” He cleared his throat.

There was a beat.

You didn’t say anything. Just stared, guarded but curious. He took that as permission to continue, fidgeting with something behind his back.

“I just wanted to, um… apologize,” he said. “For yesterday. I was a bit—well, a lot—off my game. Normally I’d make a much grander entrance. Maybe some fireworks. Dancing goats. An organ solo.”

You blinked, slowly. “Dancing goats, yes. Very…attractive. Well, sire, I’m kinda busy–”

“I’m serious!” he insisted, chuckling nervously. “I granted one of my summoners his wish when he made his goats dance instead of slaughtering them. Which, honestly, isn’t it better? Anyways…what was I saying?”

You shook your head. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Oh ho, yes!” He hesitated… then pulled the object from behind him with the dramatics of a magician revealing his final trick. “Ta-da!”

He presented you with… a rubber duck. Bright yellow. You stared at it.

“It’s not just any duck,” Lucifer said, beaming. “This is the one and only magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck! Ha ha! That spits fire! Patent pending.”

He flicked it, and the duck squeaked . Then it backflipped in his hand and let out a tiny puff of harmless but impressively red fire.

You blinked again. He looked so genuinely proud of it, and it was contagious. Somehow, you were proud of him too.

“I enchanted it myself,” he said, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. “It detects hostile intent within ten meters, and bites people if they get too close. Very reliable.”

You stared at the absurd little creature. Then back at him. “...You’re giving me a duck.”

“A magic duck,” he corrected. “To help you in anything. You know. Protection. Fire support. Emotional support, if needed.”

The smile was slow, involuntary. A slight curve of your lips. But it was there. Lucifer froze.

His heart stuttered so hard— damn that traitorous organ — actually fluttered. Like wings beating against his ribs. Oh no. You were smiling. At him . Abort mission.

“Well, great! Wonderful! That’s—duck received!” he blurted, spinning on his heel with a flustered laugh. “ You look very stabby. Impeccably stabby. Love the suit! Big fan of murder!”

He practically bolted down the hall.

You stood there in the doorway, duck in hand, not believing what had just happened, but…the smile lingered as you put it near your table. You ran a gloved hand through your hair and turned back to put on some more knives, when another knock came — lighter, more rhythmic. 

“Come in,” you said. Charlie peeked inside with her usual hopeful glow, holding a clipboard and an excited little bounce in her step. “Hey! I was wondering if you’d like to join us? We’re about to start a new activity — it’s kind of silly, but it’s meant to help with trust building. There are pillows involved. It’s… uh, interpretive.”

The smile was genuine. The optimism in her eyes was a little too bright, like she was trying extra hard today. You offered a small, respectful shake of your head. “I appreciate the offer, princess. But I have other responsibilities.”

Charlie’s face fell, only slightly and she nodded. “Right. Of course. It’s just, um, it could help ease you into things here?”

You nearly laughed, but caught yourself.  Instead, you offered the same polite smile you’d mastered long before death. “I’m afraid duty calls.”

You walked past Charlie gently, making your way down the winding staircase. Charlie scrambled to follow, clipboard hugged to her chest. “Maybe just stay for the first five minutes? You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. It’s just… everyone’s downstairs, and it’d be nice to show them we’re all trying. Together.”

They reached the bottom steps. The hotel lobby came into view. Niffty dusting something that didn’t need dusting. Angel Dust lounging across two chairs like he owned them. Husk nursing a drink, clearly done with everything. Vaggie pacing as usual. Alastor smiled too broadly to be trustworthy.

And Lucifer. He straightened the moment he saw you, hand rising instinctively to smooth his already-perfect hair. 

“I’m grateful for your hospitality,” you said, addressing Charlie with usual poise. “But my district has become vulnerable while I’m gone. Sinners there need my help, and duty is a noble cause. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Charlie hesitated. Angel raised an eyebrow. Alastor’s smile didn’t falter but his head tilted with interest. Lucifer clenched his fist.

“I… guess that’s true,” Charlie finally said. 

You nodded once. “Then you understand.”

You moved to the door. You didn’t hear him approach, but felt the flicker of magic behind you before his voice tumbled out, rushed and slightly winded. “Wait!”

You turned slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder.

“You’re… leaving,” he said, slightly breathless.

“Yes,” you said evenly.

“Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, swaying on his heels. “Of course. Yes. That’s… that’s what doors are for. But I had a thought. A terrible one, really. Absolutely ludicrous.”

You raised your brows. “…What?”

Lucifer paused. Drew in a breath and then, brightly he said, “I’d like to come with you!”

You stared at him. The door behind you clicked back into place as you released it, stunned. “You,” you said carefully, “want to come… to my territory?”

“Yes!” he said, with far too much enthusiasm. “You’re going to help your people. Very valiant. Very noble. Very… uncharacteristically decent for Hell. And I thought — maybe — I could lend a hand.”

A beat. Silence. No. Your mind rejected the idea instantly. He hated sinners.

Lucifer Morningstar hadn’t lifted a finger to help a single soul in centuries. He let this system of eternal punishment be, and then abandoned all of them. Abandoned you.

Lucifer cleared his throat and straightened his collar. “I just… look, not that you need any help — clearly, you’ve got the whole ‘powerful overlord who strikes fear into all’ thing down. Very chic. Very commanding.”

“You don’t care about sinners,” you said, not cold, just… numb. “You gave up on them.”

Lucifer blinked, his smile faltering at the edges. And in that moment, behind all the glitz and theatrics, you saw the weariness. He took a small step forward, lowering his voice. “I did. I gave up a long time ago.” They didn’t change. I thought they would. I wanted to believe in them… but all they did was prove Heaven right. The words hung in his throat, unspoken. “But,” he said instead, forcing his voice lighter, “maybe it’s time I… un-give-up.”

Your brow twitched. That wasn’t a word.

Lucifer fumbled onward. “You’re doing something good, which I believe most Overlords wouldn’t–” Well, you weren’t being entirely selfless either. You wanted to maintain your authority, but also without you, it would be all chaos again, leading to more death.

He tried a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought maybe I could start small. Just… help you. Help them. Or at least try.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your thoughts were racing. Why now? Why pretend to care? Is this for Charlie? For himself? Or maybe, he was seeking his redemption too.

You searched his face for a trace of mockery. There was none. You crossed your arms. “You don’t have to do this, sire.”

He let out a breath. “No. But maybe I should. And please, call me Lucifer.”

Another beat of silence passed between them. Then finally, you stepped away from the door. “Very well, your majesty , follow along.”

You still didn’t call him by his name, but Lucifer thought he would make you say it eventually. Lucifer lit up. “Oh ho! A partnership! Our partnership!”

“I’m not calling this a partnership.”

“Temporary alliance, then. Battle buddies?”

You rolled your eyes and moved past him, but he caught the faint curve of your smile as you moved ahead.

Charlie watched them go, blinking.

“Well,” she whispered to Vaggie, “that’s… happening.”

_____________________

You regretted it within the first ten minutes. Not because of some grand mistake or sudden betrayal, but because Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, had apparently not walked the damned streets in centuries… and was treating everything like a carnival attraction.

“Ooooh! What’s that ?” he asked, pointing with both hands toward a neon-lit sculpture of a tentacled goat climbing out of a coffee mug.

“A cursed espresso stand,” you said flatly.

“Amazing! What a creative twist!” he beamed. “You know, back in the early days, I wanted more artistry in these districts. Glad to see someone listened—what’s that ?”

“Bone polishing service.”

“And that ?”

“Overlord-themed ice cream parlour.”

“And that?”

“That’s a dumpster, sire.”

“Oh.”

You sighed.

The back alleys of your district spread ahead of them in crooked angles and sharp shadows. Lucifer practically skipped beside you.

He still wore his coat and vest as usual, though he told you he’d conjured a little charm that will make him appear as any sinner. His hands were clasped behind his back, his steps light and gleeful.

He suddenly halted, letting out a loud gasp like he’d seen the gates of Heaven open before him. “Oh! OH! Stop — stop, stop, look at that! ”

You turned, more out of dread than curiosity. He was pointing toward a crooked convenience shop, buzzing green light. The glass window was plastered with bright stickers and product ads. One ad stood out in particular: “ Lucky Cumilicious Cereal! Now with DUCK TOYS inside every box! ”

Lucifer slapped a hand to his chest like he’d been moved to tears. “They made duck toys again?! Look at it! It’s wearing sunglasses! It’s glorious!”

“…It’s cereal,” you said. You were more worried about what the cereal contains, after that horrendous name. 

“With ducks! ” he whispered reverently.

Then he turned to you, eyes suddenly large, lashes fluttering, “Please. Please, please, please. Can we go in? Just one box. Maybe two.”

You blinked. “You are the King of Hell.”

“I’m aware.”

“You could will that cereal into your hand.”

“Yes, but that would be rude.”

You stared at him in dead silence. Then, finally, with a long-suffering sigh, you rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Fine.”

“YES!” he cheered, practically bouncing. “You’re the best.”

You muttered something inaudible and walked toward the shop. The bell above the door gave a pitiful jingle as they stepped inside. It was a cramped, crooked little place. Shelves leaned dangerously to one side, some barely holding together. Glowing jars of unknown liquids pulsed on display, and a giant taxidermy eyeball in a top hat watched them from the ceiling.

The shopkeeper, a gangly sinner, glanced up from the counter. Then his eyes widened. “You,” he choked, backing into the wall like he’d seen death itself. “You’re—You’re her—”

You stopped just past the threshold, looking more exhausted than furious… which somehow made you even scarier. The shopkeeper whimpered and dove under the counter with a squeak. 

Lucifer blinked. “Oh my. That’s a new reaction.”

You sighed. “It’s not.”

Lucifer peeked over the counter and called cheerily, “No need to panic! She hasn’t smited anyone all morning.”

No response.

“I’m serious!” he added, “I’ve been with her for a whole hour. Only scowled. Didn’t eviscerate a single sinner. Remarkable restraint, really.”

Still no answer.

You let out another sigh, walked to the counter, and leaned against it. “…I’m just here for the cereal,” you said, voice dry.

There was a pause. Shuffling.

“…Just…cereal?” the shopkeeper whispered.

You gave a glance toward Lucifer, who was standing beside a cereal pyramid with the biggest, most ridiculous, sparkly-eyed expression of glee you’d ever seen.

You looked back at the shopkeeper. “…Ten boxes.”

Another pause.

“…Ten?”

“Ten.”

A beat.

“…Of the duck one?”

Your eye twitched. “Yes. Of the duck one.”

The shopkeeper’s head slowly emerged from behind the counter, still wary, but utterly baffled. “You… You want to buy them?”

“Is that not how shops work?” Lucifer asked brightly.

“I— I guess? I just thought you’d, y’know, blast me into ash and take ‘em.”

You stared at him, utterly unamused. “If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

The shopkeeper whimpered and fumbled to the shelves. While Lucifer was looking doe-eyed at the cereal packs, you whispered. “It doesn’t have the…uh…”

The sinner sighed, looking like a lot of people asked him that. “No. The one who named it just wanted to relate that it tasted good…like that.”

“...Right.” That guy must have some food porn fetish.

Within a minute, ten boxes of Lucky Cumilicious Cereal: Duck Edition™ were stacked neatly on the counter, complete with gaudy cartoon ducks. As the shopkeeper rang them up with shaking hands, Lucifer turned to you and whispered, “Thank you.”

You only gave a half-shrug, voice low. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen the calorie count.”

But when she glanced at him again, genuinely beaming at you, something in your chest shifted. Softened. How ridiculous.

____________________________

The sky above your district roared with fire and smoke.

By the time they arrived, the scent of gunpowder was already thick in the air. Your once-orderly streets had erupted into chaos: overturned carts, black banners fluttering where her crest should’ve been. Fucking assholes.

“Shit. I need a full overview of things.”

Lucifer gleefully accepted this. “Don’t worry!” he called down, already soaring above. “I’ll scope things out from the top! You take the boring side of things—logistics, planning, subordinates—whatever you Overlords do!”

Before you could stop him, his disguise charm broke as he spread his wings and with a dazzling whoosh , he shot upward, leaving a faint sparkle trail in the smoke like a firework.

You… stayed grounded. Your assistant emerged from a nearby alley, panting. “Ma’am!” she shouted, rushing to you. “They came two nights ago—stragglers, armed –”

“Where’s their base?”

“Near the industrial quarter. They took the outer spires first, then moved inward. We’ve been pushing back, but they got allies.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Allies?”

Your assistant hesitated. And that’s when the bullet whistled past your cheek. A whisper of metal and smoke. You didn’t flinch, but your assistant dove to the ground.

You turned slowly. And there he was, standing tall on a twisted street lamp, rifle resting cockily on one shoulder. Straw hat tilted forward, long tail flicking behind him like a rattlesnake with rhythm. Striker.

“Now that’s a face I didn’t think I’d get the honour of greeting today,” he drawled, teeth glinting. “Didn’t reckon you’d crawl out of that fancy hotel just to come slum it with the rest of us.”

Your gaze was steel. “I don’t entertain rodents. And you’re standing on my property.”

He gave a low whistle. “Still got that bite, huh?” He spun the rifle, pointing it toward you again with casual, confident aim. “Didn’t think you'd bring royalty either.”

You didn’t answer, not yet. You were calculating.

From the air, Lucifer weaved through plumes of smoke and gunfire, magic flaring from his palms in bursts of red-gold light. He wasn’t fighting — This time, he was protecting. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though some took advantage of the chaos… but he saw something else too.

A husband shielding his wounded wife with trembling wings. A sinner trying to drag a friend to cover. Another woman not able to get out of the rubble telling her girlfriend to flee.

Lucifer floated above them, breathing hard. Lucifer blinked in beside her; with a flick, the stone turned to ash. The couple cried and nodded at him gratefully as he vanished again in a red ripple. And something turned inside him. Not just guilt. Shame.

These weren’t the irredeemable filth he once believed. He had let exterminations go on for centuries. Told himself the worst were being culled. Told himself that Hell was punishment, and he wasn’t its warden, only its unwilling king.

But now, watching the streets run with blood, seeing innocent sinners fall under crossfire they didn’t ask for…He realized something dark and bitter. He hadn’t just stood idle. He’d been wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

*

Ice hissed as it struck hot metal, steam rising in thick clouds. You rolled behind a broken fountain, barely missing another shot. Striker was relentless; quick on the trigger, voice a constant taunt. "You're slowing down, little Overlord!"

Your eyes narrowed. You didn't reply. Instead, you rose and let the frost take over.

The ground cracked beneath your feet as a wave of cold spiralled outward, elegant and brutal. Your fingers splayed, and in an instant, the fountain behind you transformed into a wall of jagged ice, catching Striker’s next bullet mid-flight.

He cursed and jumped back. You stepped through the mist like a wraith, one arm lifting, a spear of translucent ice shot forward, pinning his long coat to the wall of a ruined storefront.

His eyes widened. “Shit—Fucking bitch!”

He raised the rifle, point-blank. But you were faster. Your hand shot out, encasing the weapon in solid ice. It cracked under the pressure, a shriek of metal and frost and you wrenched it from his grip before shattering it to dust.

Striker staggered back, breath ragged.

"You picked the wrong bitch," you said quietly, frost curling from your fingertips.

He looked cornered, panting, coat ripped, one boot skidding slightly on your ice. You turned, breathing steady, ready to order him dragged off by your soldiers.

But then you heard it; a faint shhk . The unmistakable sound of a blade unsheathing.

Your instincts flared. Too late. A sharp line of fire bloomed across your cheek as something impossibly hot and divine kissed your skin — slicing with a hum that your soul recognized before your mind did. You stumbled back a step, fingers flying to your face. Blood. You hadn’t bled in years.

The smell of it was wrong. Burned . Your gaze snapped to Striker.

He stood tall now, a wild grin back on his face, twirling something that didn’t belong in Hell. A curved sleek, unnatural blade. It shimmered with celestial light, the metal humming with power. Your chest tightened.

“Where the hell did you get that?” you demanded, voice quieter, deadlier.

Striker shrugged, the blade catching the dim sun as he spun it lazily. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You narrowed your eyes. That was angelic steel . Carmilla Carmine was the only one who traded in them. And she sure as shit wouldn’t hand one to some errand boy with a cowboy hat.

You stepped forward. “You’re going to regret that.”\The air cracked as your ice daggers shot toward Striker, each one a razor-edged shard of fury.

He dodged deftly, rolling between a pair of shattered pillars, boots skidding across frost-slick stone. He sliced through two of the blades mid-spin, divine steel singing as it clashed with your magic. 

You were faster this time. You slammed your palm into the ground, ice erupting upward in jagged walls, trying to trap him in. Striker leapt, twisting in the air, but you were already there, meeting him mid-motion with a kick to the ribs that sent him sprawling.

You surged forward to end it, hand raised, frost already forming your next strike. But he was quicker than his battered form suggested.

A flash of white steel came for your throat, sudden and reckless. Time slowed. You didn’t think. You reacted .

Your hand swept upward and an ice-forged sword burst into being in your palm, catching his blade inches from your skin. The impact rang out like thunder.

Both of you froze, faces inches apart, breath mingling in the space between. You stared into his eyes — wild, defiant, but gleaming with something darker than pride. 

He grinned. “That’s the problem with people like you,” he drawled, pushing his weight against your blade, the angelic steel hissing as it clashed with your ice. “You think you’re in control. That you know all the moving parts.”

Your eyes narrowed, muscles tensed. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckled darkly, pressing his weight harder against your blade. “Y’know… maybe I am just a pawn. A little gun for hire. But I ain’t stupid.”

He jerked his head to the side." 'Specially when someone brings a king to a war he should’ve stayed the hell away from. Tch…royalty don’t do good on battlefields, now do they?”

You followed his gaze, and saw him. Lucifer was still in the air, magic flaring as he shielded a group of terrified civilians. Too focused and exposed. 

And then you saw them. A cluster of armed demons, camouflaged against the rubble. You hadn't noticed them before. But they were aiming directly at him. And the weapons they held gleamed white …. Angelic guns.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your breath hitched. The frost around you stilled, your heart did not.

Striker chuckled, still pressed to your blade. “Oops,” he said with mock surprise. “Now how did they know the king will come along today?”

Who is talking about?! Dread settled in your gut like a stone. Because no matter how powerful he was, you doubted even the King of Hell could take that many angelic shots.

Your grip tightened around your sword. This wasn’t just about your territory anymore.

You didn’t think. You shoved Striker back with a burst of frigid wind, sending him skidding across the battlefield on a slick of ice. The second he hit the ground, you were already running.

Your boots pounded against scorched rubble and frozen debris, lungs burning, heart louder than any explosion in the distance. You didn’t even register the blood still dripping from your cheek. You only saw him.

So unaware. So damn unaware.

“Sir–LUCIFER!” you shouted, voice raw. “ABOVE YOU—!”

He turned, smiling that you finally called him by his name. For a moment, your eyes met in the smoke and flickering firelight. His expression changed from confusion…straight into fear .

Because in that same heartbeat—You felt it. The divine burn.

Striker’s sword rammed through your lower abdomen, sliding between your ribs with a sickening ease. You felt everything.

His breath was on your neck. “Tsk,” he whispered with a grin in your ear, voice practically humming with glee. “Letting your guard down for him ?”

You gasped but didn’t scream. Didn’t give him the pleasure. Striker twisted the blade as he withdrew it, slow and deliberate. Blood poured from the wound, soaking into your clothes.

Striker’s boots crunched as he stepped back. His thoughts burned with satisfaction. An Overlord... dropping her shield for the King? Now that’s leverage. That’s a story worth telling."But not now. He was tired, wounded, and she wasn’t dead yet. Time to vanish.

You staggered forward, one step at a time, your hand pressed tightly to your bleeding side. Warmth trickled down your fingers, soaking through your hands. The angelic wound hissed against your flesh, deeper than you'd first realized. It was spreading. Burning.

Your breath was shallow. Each inhale felt like it scraped the inside of your lungs.

Behind you, the battlefield simmered into silence. Somewhere, your forces were cleaning up the remnants of the rebellion. You didn’t look back.

“Ma’am!” your assistant rushed to your side, panic clear in her voice. “Please, you need to sit down—”

You shoved her hand away with more force than you meant to.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, even as your knees wobbled. You bit down on the sharp throb beneath your ribs and kept moving. You had to.

Not where your enemies could watch you fall.

The truth rattled in your chest like cracked ice. You weren’t going to make it much farther. You were bleeding from the inside, and divine magic to top it all. 

I need to crash, you thought. Somewhere safe.

You blinked upward just as Lucifer landed in front of you, panting, wild-eyed. “ You’re hurt,” he gasped, voice pitching high with panic as he crossed the space to reach you. “Why would you do something like this for them?!”

Your knees buckled. Your legs finally gave in. You didn’t fight it.

Because your eyes found his — frantic, flooded with worry and something inside you eased. You didn’t know when it had happened, or why , or even if it made any damned sense…But in that moment, as your vision blurred and the sounds of the world became cotton-soft—

Your last thought before the darkness took you was simple: Safe in his arms.

Everything felt… cold. And not from your magic this time.

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

Next>>>

Taglist: @atlantis-just-drowned, @uniquecutie-puffs, @elegancefr, @petalsrdead, @jazztato

[thethronezone]

Trazyn's Concubine

Listen, if I can write about us being Big E's perpetual consort, there's no reason why I can't write about us being Trazyn's necron spouse.

You both got together while you were still flesh and blood necrontyr. Trazyn was the Chief Archivist and you were a scribe working under him. You both hit it off but because you were so much lower on the social ladder than him, Trazyn could not take you as a consort and had to call you his concubine instead. It wasn't ideal but it was the only choice the two of you had.

Trazyn misremembers much of his past as a necrontyr due to the self-protection protocols he himself put in place. Why did he do this? A large part of it has to do with you.

As Trazyn remembers it, you and him both were forced into the Biotransference that turned you into the soulless necrons you are today but the truth is that Trazyn embraced it. You, on the other hand, were hesitant. But Trazyn persuaded you, urged you to trust him and that he would never let anything bad happen to you. And didn't you want to live an eternal life by the side of your beloved? His altered memories are due to the fact that he couldn't bear with the guilt that he had caused the loss of your soul.

As a necron, you kept your role as a scribe and the status as Trazyn's concubine. Most of it was spent by his side, helping him catalogue his ever-growing collection and listening patiently as he showed them off. Trazyn loved showing off to you, impressing you with his intelligence, tenacity and charm. With your attention, he flourished, head held high and arm linked with yours as he waltzed through the halls of Solemnace.

During the War in Heaven, you were given the important duty of keeping track of any notable changes in the enemy, be it a shift in leadership, troop formations or tactics. For your astute observations and knowledge about the enemy, you were given the title of 'the Insightful'.

When it was time to go into the Great Sleep, you were entombed in the same room as Trazyn. It was meant less as a privilege for you and a given right for him as in necrontyr society, Overlords always had their concubines buried with them when they died. Though now deathless necrons, the practice remained and your tomb was placed beside his.

Trazyn awoke prematurely from the Great Sleep, while you were still asleep. Upon finding that you were still asleep, Trazyn spent a couple of centuries waiting for you to wake up before finally deciding to make better use of his time by expanding his collection. Despite this, Trazyn would regularly return to your side, visiting you as you slept on and telling you all about the new additions to his collection and the places and species he had seen. He longed for the day of your awakening, when he could once again show you his grand collection.

[andypantsx3]

omg i'm sorry but i need to techsplain just one thing in the most doomer terms possible bc i'm scared and i need people to be too. so i saw this post which is like, a great post that gives me a little kick because of how obnoxious i find ai and how its cathartic to see corporate evil overlords overestimate themselves and jump the gun and look silly.

but one thing i don't think people outside of the industry understand is exactly how companies like microsoft plan on scaling the ability of their ai agents. as this post explains, they are not as advanced as some people make them out to be and it is hard to feed them the amount of context they need to perform some tasks well.

but what the second article in the above post explains is microsoft's investment in making a huge variety of the needed contexts more accessible to ai agents. the idea is like, only about 6 months old but what every huge tech firm right now is looking at is mcps (or model context protocols) which is a framework for standardizing how needed context is given to ai agents. to oversimplify an example, maybe an ai coding agent is trained on a zillion pieces of javacode but doesn't have insider knowledge of microsoft's internal application authoring processes, meta architecture, repositories, etc. an mcp standardizes how you would then offer those documents to the agent in a way that it can easily read and then use them, so it doesn't have to come pre-loaded with that knowledge. so it could tackle this developer's specific use case, if offered the right knowledge.

and that's the plan. essentially, we're going to see a huge boom in companies offering their libraries, services, knowledge bases (e.g. their bug fix logs) etc as mcps, and ai agents basically are going to go shopping amongst those contexts, plug into whatever the context is that they need for the task at hand, and then power up by like a bajillion percent on specific task they need to do.

so ai is powerful but not infallible right now, but it is going to scale pretty quickly i think.

in my opinion the only thing that is ever going to limit ai is not knowledge accessibility, but rather corporate greed. ai models are crazy expensive to train and maintain. every company on earth is also looking at how to optimize them to reduce some of that cost, and i think we will eventually see only a few megalith ais like chatgpt, with a bunch of smaller, more targeted models offered by other companies for them to leverage for specialized tasks.

i genuinely hope that the owners of the megalith models get so greedy that even the cost optimizations they are doing now don't bring down the price enough for their liking and they find shortcuts that ultimately make the models and the entire ecosystem shitty. but i confess i don't know enough about model optimization to know what is likely.

anyway i'm big scared and just wanted to put this slice of knowledge out there for people to be a little more informed.

[dr-nero-is-god]

Raven: okay. We are here in this safe house and I just need to call my dad and let him know we're okay Otto: okay Raven: but first I should check and make sure you don't have a concussion. But then I need to call my dad and let him know we're okay Otto: okay. Can we also talk about Cypher Raven: honestly I don't have much to tell you. But we should call my dad. He should know we are okay Otto: ....okay.

[metalgeartwo1990]

compilation of wing being the sole winner of the idgaf war

[scenteddelusion5]

Hi, can I request a platonic Rosie(or several overlords if that’s okay) with a Female reader who’s a teenager overlord who accidentally became an overlord?

The Overlord of Disasters

Fem teenage reader x platonic Rosie (and other overlords)

This got way too long so I tried to shorten it, hope you still enjoy it.

Word count: 2886

Note: I actually am working on a young adult/teenager oc that has the powers to become an overlord, so the fact that this is my first request is very funny. When I've finished her design, I'll write about her. But for now, here is the story of Y/n the overlord of disasters.

Y\n had to admit that she wasn't the nicest person but she never expected to end up in hell. HELL, like yess she was a bit of a troubled teen... she was a petty thief, yess, but some of her peers were much worse. Besides, she was only fifteen when she died. She never had the chance to do better. That should've given her at least some leeway? Right?? RIGHT???

But no, she ended up in hell.

When Y/n first arrived, she roamed the dangerous streets looking for shelter. Her face and slim goat-like stature was hidden by a torn cloak. She tried to be inconspicuous, discreet, low-key but she overlooked one thing... Our Y/n was ridiculously clumsy. So when she tripped over her own foot, her arm bumped into the light pole causing it to fall over onto a postal van. That in turn caused all the letters to fly out on the street. Some of the papers got carried up by the wind, eventually getting stuck onto the cord of a power pylon. Then there was fire, which spread onto a building...

Everyone's eyes were focused on her, including a set of hollow eye socket. It didn't take long for the demons that lived in the now burning building to storm her.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" One incredibly tall shark demon took the lead. "I'm going to rip fucking longs out of your chest and feed it to those CANIBAL FREAKS!!!"

At first Rosie didn't want to intervene. It really wasn't her style to get involved into random street fights, even though she found Y/n's disastrous display hilarious. But now that the loan shark insulted her people, she felt it was her duty to step in.

"Gentlemen, whatever might be the problem?" Rosie stepped in between you and the threatening hoard and flashed her sharp teeth to them. "You aren't bullying this poor newcomer, right?"

"Uhm, n-no miss, uhm Rosie. We're sorry." Before Rosie could open her mouth again, they ran back into the still burning building.

The overlord then turned to you. "Now darling, I take it you don't have a place to stay?"

Y/n shook her head.

"Then you can stay with me. I'm quite the powerful demon."

From that day on Y/n stayed with Rosie. During the years of living together, the two grew quite close. The overlord took over a motherly role for the teen. Everyone in cannibal town loved the unofficially adopted daughter of Rosie, they were even willing to put up with Y/n's clumsy nature.

Rosie truly loved her and when Y/n accidentally called her mom while helping out in the store, she was the happiest demoness in all of hell.

From that day on Rosie introduced Y/n as her daughter to anyone and everyone, even some of her fellow overlords.

Alastor and Y/n had met many times and often had tea together. The man often joked about how it's never boring with her. She had also met Zestial and Camilla a few times, but she wasn't as close with them as Alastor and Rosie.

One day Y/n had to make a trip to the Doomsday district. Rosie had, reluctingly, sent you to deliver a dress to a customer. She was all alone, her hand rested on the angelic steel knife on her belt. Rosie had given it to her so she could protect herself, just in case. Most people knew you were close to several overlords but you could never be more careful, especially Y/n.

Y/n was repeating her 'safety protocol' in her head.

Stay away from the walls

stay away from the poles

stay away from the demons

Stay away from the fire

Look where you step

Hold th-

She walked into something and fall back on her but. Looking up was a demon she recognized... An overlord, he was in charge of the Doomsday district.

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!!" This situation seemed awfully familiar.

Y/n clenched her shirt. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to."

"I DON'T CARE!!!"

The demon was menacingly towering over her. She crawled back and pulled herself up. Seeing as this wasn't going to be resolved with a pleasant conversation over tea, Y/n pulled out her knife. Her arms were shaking and the knife felt heavy in her hands.

"What do you think that toothpick is going to do?" He stepped forward and you stepped back. On and on until she hit the wall... OH no... she hit the wall...

Her elbow hit the random waterpipe on the side of the building and broke it. Water spewed out right into the overlord's face. The demon fell back. The water had landed on the street, causing a car to slip and running over the overlord and crashing into the wall. This in turn caused the satellite aerial to fall down and slightly bumped your back. The knife shot out of your hand right into overlord. The aerial send out a weird frequency.

"Spare me... Please..." The overlord gasped out.

Y/n was still shaken up. "What?... Uhm I don't plan on killing you." her voice sounded unsure, which the overlord took way different than you meant.

"Please!" He wailed. "I'm begging you... You can have all my souls, just please."

"I don't uhm..."

"PLEASE!!! TAKE THEM!!!"

"... Sure...??" She said very confused. "I'll take them." The two shook hands and immediately, Y/n could feel the pure power flowing through her veins. "Alright... Bye now?" As she stepped away a shadow covered the overlord. Before Y/n could look up a piano hit the demon, pushing the knife deeper in effectively killing him.

What the fuck just happened?

Everything was quiet. All eyes were on her, again... As always, only this time, she doubted she would be saved this time. She was prepared to be killed again... Only nobody did anything, no demons threatening to kill her, no stray bullets that got way to close to her head, not even another butterfly effect disaster... The demons around just stared.

One small demon with black eyes walked up to you... "What are you going to do to us?"

"What...?"

"What are you going to do to us?" He repeated. "You are the new overlord of the Doomsday district, you own our souls."

"I... I don't." She awkwardly grabbed at her sleeves. "I'm not an overlord."

"Yes, you are. You defeated the previous overlord of doom, took over his souls and territory, you became an overlord." Y/n stayed silent at this. "How about we talk in private?" He took her into a smaller building nearby, away from all prying eyes. "Let's start over. I'm Piper. You own my soul." The small demon introduced himself.

"Uhm... Y/n, and I'm no overlord. Overlords are like scary, like WHA!" She made grabby gestures with her hands. "And BOE! I'm anything but that."

Piper looked at her like she had just grown another head. "How about this? I'll keep your territory in control while you think this over a bit? And in turn, you'll keep me in high up in the social latter here."

Her mouth was dry. "... Deal..?" She was so confused.

From that day on Piper took care of the Doomsday district for her. Y/n never went to Rosie about this. She always wanted to keep her daughter safe and would be so mad to find out she got into trouble again... At least that's what Y/n convinced herself.

Even though Piper took care of most of the problems in the Doomsday district, word got around of the new overlord of disasters; a terrifying force of nature that shouldn't be reckoned with. So of course there were demons that wanted to challenge her. Every other day y/n needed to sneak out of Cannibal town to 'fight' these challengers. See 'fight' as in accidentally defeating them.

Y/n was filing her bag with a cloak and a mask she picked up to hide her identity when a knock came from her door.

"Y/n darling! It's me and Alastor." Rosie opened the door and summoned a table. "Please sit down, we want to talk to you."

She sat down in the Victorian style chair, but not before stumbling a bit.

"Little lamb, your mother is worried about you." Alastor broke the silence.

"Deary, you've been sneaking out a lot and staying away for longer and longer and when you come home you're exhausted-" Rosie took a deep breath "- what I'm trying to say is that you can talk to me if something's wrong... You know that right?" Her cheeks were droopy, a frown plastered on her porcelain face, it made Y/n's stomach turn.

"I'm fine, mom. There is no need to worry about me." She lied.

Alastor's eyebrows down, almost like he wanted to frown, but he still had that giant smile on his face. "Are you sure? If somebody is bothering you, we don't mind serving them for tonight's dinner. Hahaha." He joked, underneath, however, he was nervous. The Radio demon had grown quite fond of her and, knowing how clumsy she could be, he couldn't help but worry.

"No, one is bothering me... Thank you for offering though." At this point, Y/n had grown used to the cannibalistic tendencies of the people around her and so shrugged Alastor's joke off.

Rosie had a bad feeling about this. "Can you at least tell us where you've been sneaking of to?"

Shit

Y/n didn't have excuse for this. "J-just some friends... I.. I didn't want them to be scared off, so I didn't tell them about you. I'm sorry mom." Tears filled her eyes, she didn't want to lie to her. Rosie had done so much for her... She was planning on giving this whole being an overlord up anyway, there was no reason for Y/n to tell the truth now. It'll be like it never happened and then she can go back to her normal life with her mom.

Rosie stared into her cup. "Alright deary, but please make sure to be careful. Genuine friends are rare in hell."

"Thanks mom." Y/n stood up again and left the imperium, through the front door this time.

Alastor squinted his eyes, following your silhouette. Something was wrong, you were lying. He could feel it... But this was Rosie's responsibility, so he should leave it up to her. "She is lying."

"I know but if she isn't ready to talk about it, then I'll wait."

"On a different note, did you hear that the Doomsday district has a new overlord." Alastor took a sip from his 'Oh, Deer' mug. "They've been defeating demon after demon. I've been meaning to meet them for my radio show, would you like to come with me?"

Y/n was walking down the street to the Doomsday district. I should've just told Rosie the truth. She thought. But she had panicked and lied, only making it harder for herself.

Stepping into the same, small building where Piper first dragged her off too, Y/n put on her overlord disguise.

"You didn't break anything, right?" Piper asked, dressed in a brand-new suit. "I don't want to fix the sewerage again."

"It went fine!" She put up her thumb, before knocking over a chair that landed on a vase, breaking it in two thousant pieces. "Sorry."

Y/n and Piper walked around the district for a while, more so to let the demons know that the overlord of disaster was still around and that they were close with Piper. She caused chain reactions all around her, letting people know she got her title for a reason... Not her fault the denizens of hell took it the wrong way.

The two were rounding the corner when a familiar set came into view... What were Rosie and Alastor doing here? Y/n's panic only grew once she realised Alastar was trying to get her attention. Did they recognize her? What was happening?

As the two overlords came closer and closer, Y/n ducked into an alleyway and seemingly disappeared~

The dumpster wasn't Y/n's first choice of hiding place but it was the only one she had.

Piper was left alone on the burning streets with two dangerous overlords heading straight for him.

"Where did she go?" The woman, who Piper recognized to be the cannibal overlord, asked. "I swore she was just here."

"And what relation do you have with this new overlord, my incredibly short fellow." The second man Piper knew all too well. The terrifying Radio demon. "I was hoping to speak to her."

"Ah, I- I'm incredibly sorry... B-but the disaster overlord doesn't like dealing with overlord stuff, so she makes me represent." Piper sputtered.

"I see, but you see I want to speak to the REAL overlord. Not some pathetic representative." Dials appeared in Alastor's eyes and strange symbols started floating around. "GOT THAT."

"YES!"

"Lovely, then you can set up an audience for me. How does Friday sound?"

"Perfect, Friday at 5 p.m."

"Great, I can't wait to meet her." The two overlords went on their merry way again through the streets of Doomsday district.

Friday came around and nothing. Alastor had waited for twenty minutes, yet there was no sight of the disaster demon or her little pet. This was rich, never before was the overlord stood up like this. Who would dare to waste his time?! Alastor's stature as well as his antlers grew. That day there was a very horrifying broadcast and Y/n was at home with Rosie. She had to admit she almost peed her pants when Alastor openly threatened her on the radio broadcast...

There was no way she could come clean now. From that day on, you didn't show your overlord self once. Always letting Piper deal with everything.

That was until he came running to you, a letter in hand. It was an invitation to an overlord meeting, one she wouldn't be allowed to send Piper to. At first she didn't want to go, but Piper thought that would be a surefire way to piss off even more overlords. She had to go.

That's how she ended up, dressed in her cloak and mask, in front of an office building in Carmilla's circle of the pentagram. Stepping into the building the place was quiet, no one was around... Was this a trap? Y/n continued on the conference room, although more cautious. Room 666.

Everyone was already there. Were you supposed to come early?

"Disaster demon, glad you could join us." Carmilla spoke first. "We weren't sure you would show up anymore."

Y/n kind of shrugged trying her best to hide her voice.

"How rude, this new generation of overlords ought to know their place. Don't you think so Zestial?" Alastor commented half-jokingly.

"Yes, I must agree." The oldest overlord answered.

You wobbly sat down in your seat, but in doing so breaking the seat. A metal leg shot out to Vox, who protected himself. It ricocheted to the chandelier, which luckily kept hanging. Unluckily though, one of the more heavy ornaments fell down onto the table. It broke in two.

With each sound and broken item, Y/n hugged herself more and more until she resembled more of an hedgehog than a goat. She felt incredibly awkward, tears came out of her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I'M SORRY!!!! YOU ALMOST BROKE MY SCREEN AND DESTROYED THE CONFERENCE ROOM AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS SORRY?!!!" Vox screamed, he was about to launch over the broken table but Alastor stopped him.

"Not a step closer my pal." Alastar's horns grew, showing that he was serious in protecting the newest overlord.

"There is only one demon in the entire universe who could create such a mess." Rosie spoke to herself. "Y/n is that you?" Rosie almost couldn't keep herself from smirking when she removed her mask.

"Yes... I-"

"Alright, everyone out this meeting is over!" Carmilla said. The demons left but only with some push. "Not you three."

They were all looking at you, Carmilla, Zestial, Alastor and Rosie, waiting for an explanation.

"Be- Before you get mad at me, this was an accident."

"I'm not mad about my conference room, now explain." Carmilla's eyes stayed focused on her, like lion waiting for its prey.

"I don't just mean the conference room, this was an accident." Y/n points to herself. "I didn't mean to become an overlord. It just kind of happened and I thought you would be mad at me and then I dug myself into a deeper hole, and now I'm here dressed like this embarrasing myself in front of everyone." The tears that had been slowly building up, started flowing.

"Oh deary." Rosie stood up and gave you a big hug. "I could never be mad at you. I just wish you would've told me. We can work this out together, besides this means you have the power to protect yourself. You don't know how worried I was if you would ever find yourself in a sticky situation alone."

"Thanks mom." Y/n hugged her back.

"If I may interrupted your lovely bonding time, but how exactly did you 'accidentally' defeat the previous overlord?" Alastor asked.

"Oh, I didn't defeat him." She explained. "He got runover by a car, then he decided to give me all his souls and a piano dropped on him."

"Excuse me?"

Masterlist/request guidlines

[yayasvalveplay]

"Because they both believe, as shitty as Rodimus can be, he means well and it sucks keeping him away from the bitty. Maybe when the quest is over, with the emotions cooled down, they can talk it out. "

.

And I won't let it be stuck here I wanna turn it into a drachrod!

.

Ultimately, Rodimus, left with no choice, tries to stay away from ratchet. He tries to be a good captain, but from inside, he feels like he is burning alive. A few more people start to see this. But they don't have any idea why. So things keep going as they are. Rodimus gots crushed under his feelings overlord, luna 2, nyon, leaving kup in the dead universe, his quantum twin, brainstorm time travel, banishing drift, losing matrix, and now getting to fight against his sire protocols. He just feels like he is getting crushed in a hydronic press. So he actually tries to act like all those aren't there, he finishes his paperwork ( to ultra's horror), he doesn't leave tire tracks in the corridors ( ultra for a moment things that he is an imposter), he makes sound decisions and focus on the quest, he goes back to his quarters to have a mental breakdown, cries himself to recharge, he tries to stay away from drift and ratchet, he skips all last 3 medical check ups ( which is weird he never skips them, first aid tries to go after him for them), he feels lot of pain in his spark, and he keeps going thought the cycle until. He breaks. Technically, his body and spark couldn't take the pressure and stress they were under, and he got a spark attack on the bridge. He wakes up with first aid by his side. When aid tried to tell him he needed to lie back down and he just had a spark attack ( and apparently, all those times, he felt more pain than usual where minor attacks). He just says then he will rest in his quarters and leaves even though it might be better for him to stay. Luckily for him, Ratchet wasn't in the medbay when he woke up. He goes and lies down in his bed and thinks about how he was actually in love with drift and ratchet. He loved drift for a while and tried his chances at the start of the quest only to fail. Ratchet, he guess he kind of fell in love with him later. The fact is he never wanted to send drift away and doubted himself ever since. He wanted him back but couldn't bring him. He was the captain. Captains don't leave their ships, right? The worst part was when he saw them together, he said to himself he would support them and make sure they were happy, but he failed at that too. Absolute failure he was. He couldn't take his emotions, so he opened up an energex bottle it was probably a bad idea after a spark attack, but he didn't care that pain was too much. So he drank until he was lying in this sofa with a half bottle in his hand and three empty ones on the floor.

.

.

Ratchet was blaming himself for Rodimus's condition, being caught up so late. For primus's sake, he was a young bot. How did he get a spark attack?! He was going to talk to command staff with this they can't put so much pressure on the bot. He knew Rodimus wasn't the most easy bot or trustworthy, but he still didn't deserve to be this stressed. So he got into the room. Everyone stared at him and asked how Rodimus was. When he said his condition was stable and his stress cause the issue. Most of the people confessed that they knew something was wrong, but they said they didn't know what. They also added that Rodimus's workload was the same as usual. Some said they haven't seen Rodimus around except in the work. That he has been more well behaved than they ever saw.

.

It was suspicious, so he also cornered drift, and he also confirmed. But he also added reasantly he saw roddy's field deteriorate. He confessed he was worried about him but couldn't bring himself to talk to him. That kind of surprised ratchet. He thought they would get being friend again with how close they used to be. Drift confessed that with the things that happened to Ratchet in luna 2 how he still couldn't forgive Rodimus for betraying his word to protect Ratchet. Which was also surprising to ratchet for him he actually did his best. As his usual ratchet way, he said what was in his mind. Drift was surprised and realized ratchet was right, Roddy wasn't only tasked with protecting ratchet but the entire ship and its residents. There was no way he could've guessed things that happened. So ratchet confessed why he was angry with Roddy and his part. They talked about this for a while until Ratchet got a message from first aid that Roddy woke up and just left medbay like nothing happened, saying he would rest in his room. He sighed and explained it to drift and said he needed to go get Rodimus's stupid aft back into medbay. Drift asked him to be gentle with Roddy and added that "he is usually more than meets the eye." When ratchet get in the captain's quarters, he found very drunk and crying Rodimus. He quickly checked his condition. He was fairly Ok. He talked and tried to calm Roddy. Rodimus asked questions like, "Why do you guys hate me?","Why nobody ever loves me?", " Why can't I stop failing you guys?". So they talk with his mouth loosen with drunken haze. Rodimus spiled his spark to ratchet. That was the moment ratchet realized that maybe he treated the kid too roughly. Maybe he should've given him a chance after all his spark was in the right place, and he wasn't an absolute deadbeat. He brought sleepy drunk Roddy back to medbay and called drift to tell him how he wanted to give Roddy a chance in being the other sire of the sparkling.

.

.

.

I don't like sad endings, but ambiguous or happy ones are fine. SO here you go! :>

Dragon I want to kiss you come here.

[papiliovolens]

Ccino Drabble- Occurs between Ch. 22 and 24

the drabble i said would be done yesterday is done todays! huzzah! it's another exploration of nightmare's personality, so it's got that focus, with a bonus of ccino and classic kitty :D

this was inspired by Boop's adorable animation!

also important clarification: Ccino does not usually nickname the kitties. He instead calls them by their counterpart's name.

Challenge: can you guys see the part I just had to go back and add, which ended up changing where the entire scene took place and thus warranted a rewrite and delay?

overlord

Five minutes.

Ccino blearily blinked as he stirred, taking his time to free a hand to check the message. He read it slowly as he yawned loudly and then checked the sender.

"oh, shit," Ccino cursed, his sockets flying open, and he swung his legs off the couch. He froze as he tugged on the blanket, and it refused to budge as a lump underneath made a soft meow. Carefully, he extracted himself from the couch and tucked the blanket around whichever cat had joined him for his impromptu nap.

Grabbing the apron flung over the corner of the couch, Ccino slipped it over his head and tied it behind him as he sped-walked onto the cafe floor. He didn't bother to close the door fully, allowing the light from the hallway to seep into the dark cafe. Slipping behind the bar, Ccino pushed the ON button for the coffee machine, rubbing his face with a sigh.

Thank the stars Nightmare preferred his coffee straight, Ccino thought as he grabbed a fresh bag of Robusta coffee beans. He gripped the counter's edge and watched the coffee drip into the cup, his mind drifting tiredly.

As if in an afterthought, Ccino straightened and turned, glancing over the cafe. Perhaps they could sense the incoming presence, but the cats had vacated, and Ccino heard none of the usual scratching and soft breathing from the cubbies. Ccino shivered as the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, and he took a deep breath out of habit as he checked the coffee.

The shadows in the corner of a booth rippled, and Nightmare's form leered out from the reaching shadows, his tentacles gripping the edge of the black portal to boost him out. A familiar sense of heaviness settled on Ccino's body, pressing in on him from all sides, and he forced his jitters to still, his soul freezing and thawing rapidly as it always did as it adjusted to Nightmare's aura.

Ccino looked over his shoulder as Nightmare's eyelight latched onto Ccino. The corner of his mouth curled up as he smiled, deceptively sweet. "Ccino," he purred, the portal closing silently behind him. "I hope I am not intruding."

"i was just sleeping. since, you know, it's the middle of the night," Ccino grumbled with a raised browbone. "i'm gonna need more than five minutes if you want your coffee to be ready."

Nightmare's grin grew as he slipped into the seat directly before Ccino, linking his fingers politely on the bar. "And yet it seems you still have enough time to make it," he pointed out, nodding at the machine as it beeped to mark the coffee was finished.

Ccino hung his head and slid the drink across the counter. "that's because i rushed."

Nightmare gripped the drink lightly, slowly sipping as he watched Ccino clean the machine, setting the cup down only once it was empty. "What do you know about the Sans named Classic?" he asked, cutting to business.

And there it was. Ccino turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he swallowed. "right," he muttered. "well-"

He cut off as the blanket he had left on the couch hopped onto the far end of the bar, the corner getting caught under its occupant's paws and nearly sending them sliding to the ground. They rose slowly, awkwardly trouncing forward as the blanket attempted to restrict movement.

Nightmare and Ccino watched incredulously as the blanket stopped between them, swaying side to side, and then collapsed flat, making a small huff of exertion.

Ccino stared at it, unsure what the protocol was. "um-"

One of Nightmare's tentacles grabbed the blanket and lifted it off, the cat underneath going limp.

The cat's identity was either the multiverse's greatest coincidence or fate's greatest laugh.

Classic's counterpart, a white and blue-furred cat, rolled onto their side, half their fur raised from the blanket's static, and blinked at them. Their wide eyes relaxed, and they shot a look at Nightmare that screamed, "really?"

"Is this one defective?" Nightmare asked, sounding genuinely confused, and Classic's cat narrowed their eyes. "They are not running."

Nightmare's aura was potent, especially to those unused to its heaviness. Animals seemed extra sensitive to it, and the cats rarely stuck around to keep Nightmare company. It seemed Classic was an exception, which Ccino was starting to believe was the norm.

Ccino snorted and rolled his eyelights. "no, none of the cats are defective, i can assure you."

"Yet this one seems to lack the common sense the others possess."

Classic met Nightmare's gaze, ears flicking as if a fly had buzzed by.

"Will they leave?"

"probably not," Ccino admitted. Nightmare raised his skull, narrowing his socket suspiciously. "how much did the others tell you?"

Nightmare sat back slightly. "The same as you are about to tell me."

"did they tell you about what happened between classic and your counterpart at the cafe?"

Nightmare scrunched his face in distaste and snarled, "If you are referring to that travesty of a picture, yes. I am aware."

Ccino nodded as he stroked Classic from head to tail. "well, guess who this guy's counterpart is?"

Nightmare's browbone raised as he glanced down at Classic, keeping his hands off the bar as he frowned. Something sparked in his eyelight Ccino couldn't place.

"Is that so," Nightmare said, seeming to decide to resolutely ignore the cat's existence and fixed his gaze on Ccino. "Tell me everything you know."

Nightmare's voice softened as he gave the request, and Ccino sighed, feeling his soul tug. It was rare, but there were times when Nightmare, intentional or not, let a few of his genuine emotions slip through. And as Nightmare stared at him expectedly, Ccino could spot the genuine curiosity piercing behind his gaze.

The peaceful mood continued as Ccino started from the beginning, explaining how Classic had first come to the cafe. Nightmare didn't react when Ccino mentioned Swap nor Fell and nodded when Ccino repeated the explanation for Error's unexpected visit that day.

Classic seemed content to lay between them, tail occasionally twitching, until Nightmare huffed, "Do you know any other details of that day?"

"no, sorry. i didn't see the fight myself-"

Classic stood and moved closer to Nightmare, sitting at the bar's edge and leaning forward. They attempted to sniff Nightmare, who pretended they did not exist. After Nightmare did not react for a few seconds, Classic reached forward and pawed Nightmare's cheekbone, just under where his missing socket would be.

Nightmare stiffened, his tentacles sharpening, and Ccino slowly reached forward, planning to move Classic out of the way should Nightmare lash out. Classic lowered their paw, letting out a mrow as if in apology.

Ccino bent forward, frowning in concern. "nightmare?" he called out, Nightmare immediately relaxed, his tentacles returned to their lax positions and instructed Ccino: "Continue."

Quick to comply, Ccino kept an eyelight on Classic as he continued. The cat seemed hesitant to touch Nightmare again until one of his tentacles accidentally got too close, and Classic wasted no time swatting at it.

Ccino stopped again, and Nightmare took a visible breath. "Are all your cats this insufferable?"

Classic seemed to smirk as Ccino responded in the negative. It seemed the evening was going to be a long one.

[tnight877]

Friends Throw Wrenches for Each Other

"I wish you were here."

Optimus sat at the edge of his berth, his servos trembling in his lap as he stared blankly at the floor.

He couldn't figure out exactly where everything had gone so wrong. Was it breaking protocol and saving Jazz in the mines? D-16 hadn't seemed outraged, even when they returned to the barracks after each receiving a fist to the face. In fact, that only seemed to solidify their bond.

It must have been the Iacon 5000. D hadn't wanted to race yet Orion had forced him to. That outraged Darkwing, led to them being dropped down to sub-level 50 where they found the map, which led to the truth about Sentinel, the gift (or curse) of a T-cog, and everything spiraling from there.

It's all my fault.

Why had the Primes chosen him after he'd made so many mistakes? He was the reason their planet was slowly being dragged into war. If Orion Pax hadn't been so reckless, none of this would have happened. Sure, Sentinel would still be in control and Orion and D-16 would still have been miners, but they would have been together.

He could never forget the look in D's optics as the High Guard cheered for him after he'd nearly killed Starscream. He could never forget the fear he'd felt in that very moment, feeling his dearest friend slipping from his grasp.

Knowledge was a curse, Optimus decided, pushing to his pedes. He needed to do something. Anything. He needed to fix this.

~

"You do know it's not your fault, right?" Ratchet didn't look up at Optimus as he patched a hole in Ironhide's armor, the glow of the welder glancing off his white plating. "None of this is."

"I wasn't--"

"You were thinking that. That's why you're in here. For the record, you can't help Starscream's violent impulses. He probably would have launched a missile at Ironhide whether or not Megatron was his overlord."

"He's right, Prime," Ironhide agreed. Ratchet made a gesture towards the red bot as if to say I told you so. Optimus' finials perked slightly.

"Now, did you need something?" Ratchet asked, side eyeing the Prime. "Hate to point it out, but you're not the smallest bot around and this lab isn't the biggest."

Color flushed into Optimus' cheeks and he moved to duck out of the room. "Apologies," he said hastily. "Er...Ratchet, might I have a word with you later?"

"Sure. I'll meet you at MacCadam's when I get off."

~

MacCadam's is going to have to take a raincheck.

Perhaps he should have been concerned that that was his first thought as Starscream, who was apparently puppy guarding the entrance to the surface, let off a round of shots, several pinging off Optimus' armor.

"Are you stupid?" B-127 shouted from Optimus' side, the scout's battle mask deploying and his blades unsheathing. Starscream transformed and landed, forming the blasters on his arms and pointing them at the pair.

"Who's got the high ground here, bug?" the seeker sneered. His voice still sounded glitchy, grating on Optimus' audio processors. In an instant, he was back in the cave, D-16's servos choking the former king of the High Guard, Starscream egging him on.

"Bear witness! This is the last time I show mercy!"

Optimus was brought back to reality when his backstruts hit the ground, B charging towards Starscream and taking a flying leap towards the seeker. The Prime pushed himself up, shaking his helm and engaging his battle mask.

Starscream grabbed B by the throat, swinging him around and slamming him against the wall, pounding his fist repeatedly into the scout's mask. Optimus unsheathed his axe as he ran forward, though Starscream turned at the last second, taking B with him. Optimus faltered, his axe swinging upwards and dragging him backwards to avoid hitting B, the scout kicking furiously at the seeker.

"You're so clumsy. The Primes must be ashamed," Starscream laughed. B raised his fist, his blade elongating just before he drove it into Starscream's shoulder, the seeker shrieking and hurling the scout to the side. B rolled backwards to his pedes, digging his blades into the ground to slow his skidding stop.

Optimus stood, shoving his axe against Starscream's throat as the seeker struggled to recover. He squeaked, pawing at Optimus' wrist.

"Please!" Starscream rasped, pressing himself against the wall in an attempt to give himself room to breathe. Optimus' optics widened slightly at the plea. "I beg of you!"

"This is the last time I show mercy!"

Optimus jerked his axe away from Starscream, the weapon retracting as he moved to grip his helm. Stop it. Stop it!

He grunted when Starscream kicked him from behind, hitting the ground on all fours. He turned just as Starscream kicked him again, pointing his blaster at B as the scout moved towards him. The seeker pressed his pede against Optimus' backstruts, leaning down.

"How satisfying would it be for me to kill the last Prime?" he sneered.

Would he be wrong? The Matrix can only be held by someone worthy. Starscream couldn't take it. Maybe it would be better if Optimus wasn't there to keep making mistakes, keeping driving their planet further into conflict.

Starscream reared backwards as something collided with his helm with a solid clang. The seeker stumbled back, gripping his helm with one servo, waving his blaster aimlessly with the other.

"What in the Pits of Kaon--"

"Beat it, Starscream," Ratchet snapped, beating a wrench against his palm. He pulled the tool back over his shoulder. "We're done here. You're trespassing on Autobot territory, and you're here without backup. Get. Out."

"Don't make us tell you again," B snarled, his blades flaring.

"Alright, alright!" Starscream relented, taking a step back before flipping backwards and transforming, taking off and creating a cloud of dust in his wake.

Ratchet waved the dust off half-heartedly as he approached Optimus, offering his servo. The Prime took it, allowing the medic to pull him to his pedes.

"You can take Megatron but not his second in command? The whiny seeker?" Ratchet asked, arching one optic ridge. Optimus sighed, rubbing behind his neck.

"I...there are some things I need to...work through."

"Well, I'm officially off duty. Let's head over to MacCadam's. You can tell me about it there." Ratchet offered him a small, genuine smile. "Doctor's orders?"

Optimus stared at the medic, then found himself returning the smile and lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "If you say so," he replied. He turned to B. "Would you care to join us?"

"I was going to meet up with Elita and run some recon," B said, waving off the offer. "But maybe we'll catch up with you guys later tonight. Have fun talking about old people things!"

Ratchet glared at the scout, lifting his wrench. B squeaked and transformed, taking off across the smooth terrain. The medic huffed, tucking the wrench back into his subspace and moving back towards the road leading into Iacon, Optimus following closely.

~

"I'm lucky you were there today," Optimus admitted as he sat down with Ratchet, a waiter bringing them each a cube. The Prime nodded gratefully, Ratchet shaking his helm.

"I'm sure you would have managed. But it's been a long day and I was ready for a break. Besides. You look like you've got something on your mind. Perhaps I'm not a therapist, but I can prescribe sleep and less work."

Optimus huffed a soft laugh, circling his digits around the cube. "It's nothing important," he said quietly. "I've made a bigger deal about it than I should have."

"It's D-16, isn't it?"

Optimus' gaze snapped up to Ratchet, his optic ridges furrowing. "How did you--"

"You blame yourself for everything that's happened because of him. You do realize he's an autonomous being, right? He makes his own decisions."

"I know that," Optimus muttered, glancing away. "But it's not only that. I...he was my best friend. I wanted to change the world for him. I..." He groaned softly, resting his helm in his servos.

"I'm sorry."

He glanced up as Ratchet lifted his cube to his intake, closing his optics briefly as he drank. He set the cube down, folding his servos atop the table. Optimus blinked. Ratchet glanced down at his servos, his intake twisting slightly.

"I know it hurts," the medic said plainly. "And it leaves a gaping hole in your spark. I know. You wake up expecting someone to be there but they're not. But holding onto that pain is only ever going to hurt you. We have our reality now. It's time to accept that." His optics softened even as Optimus prepared himself for the verbal blow. "It's time to let D-16 go."

"I know," the Prime whispered, his voice breaking, his digits curling around his finials. "I know. But I don't know how."

He startled at the tap on his helm, Ratchet setting his servo back on the table as the Prime looked up. "How about starting with that?" The medic nodded to the untouched cube. "I know it doesn't work on you, but maybe we can use the placebo effect."

"I don't think--"

"Sh." Ratchet downed the rest of his cube in one go, tossing the empty cube aside. "Your turn. Five seconds."

"What?"

"Drink it in five seconds."

Optimus stared at him, but Ratchet didn't blink. The Prime glanced down at his cube, his digits curling around the sharp edges.

"I don't have all night."

Oh, what the heck. Optimus lifted the cube to his intake and downed it in one swallow. Ratchet let out a sharp cackle, slapping his servo on the table.

"Oh, boy," the medic said with a vicious grin. "We're going to need refills."

Optimus' gaze softened as Ratchet turned to flag the nearest waiter down, and for the first time in a long time, he found he didn't miss D-16 so much anymore.