#error code: not self shipping

[m00nbunny1]

Cob Webbed Virus 🕷️🖥️ Stimboard!

Here ya go @peztz-pr3tt1e-princ3ss3

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💫 | 💕 | 💫

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"I think all my friends might be done"

🎶 Now Playing: Fly Too - Ginger Root 🎶

[skodenquinn]

I am my own fandom when it comes to my self shipping art.

I made a grammer error. Please don't mind that

This song ughhhhhhhh, so me and him coded

[craziertogether]

i hate mike wheeler hate.

as a former mike lover turned mike disliker turned mike wheeler defender for life. i have to say it, mike hate is SO forced.

they’re are so many worse characters in the show to hate on but for some reason the GA loves to claim that mike is amongst the worst character’s in the show and their argument is like 3 things.

1) mike is poorly written post season 2. okay so you actually missed the entire point but okay! whether or not mike is queer, which lets be honest, it logically makes the most sense for that to be the case. the duffers did NOT just drop/forget about one of the greatest main characters in netflix history. if we remove mike’s queerness from the equation, the duffers logically forgetting about mike who played the most integral part in the first 2 seasons would be the biggest fumble of the CENTURY. mike was the most loved for his bravery, commitment to the party, and unfortunately being el’s boyfriend. but it’s so clear that mike and will are definitely favored by netflix over dustin and lucas. thus, this decline in mike’s character absolutely MUST mean something huge has to happen for mike’s character. and if we look logically at his blatant queer coding, mike is queer. this is where his story is headed. not down but up as he starts to have self realization. logically this also aligns with will’s story of self acceptance, he knows he loves mike romantically, he doesn’t need any more acceptance of his sexual identity, he needs to either have his love reciprocated or rejected. (likely reciprocated otherwise m*leven is the most lame ending to the show’s ending)

2) mike has been a horrible boyfriend to el/doesn’t deserve her. what gets me about this argument is that it’s actually mostly from actual m*leven shippers who hate mike but like the ship. i’ve already been on a whole ass rant about this here:

but firstly, your perception of love is seriously warped. but also how can you HATE one part of the relationship and still expect them to work out in endgame? this is clearly not a couple worth rooting for as it has a character that you believe mistreats his own girlfriend and lacks depth. and you still think they should stay together for the sake of… what exactly? being together bc they were together from the beginning, hate to say it but your first partner will almost never be your last. i’ve also heard the argument that, they hate him post season 2-3 because he became distant but they know the duffers will magically rewrite depth to their relationship and make them endgame. again hate to say it, but the duffers then suck at writing. why wait 5 whole seasons to give your characters in a relationship actual depth and complexity when you managed to give it to lumax IN ONE? it’s illogical to start doing it now unless you could make mike genuinely a god and somehow manage to not make it feel out of place. (whole rant about this on my page already, but will and mike aside from narratively making sense have so much built up tension and feelings that would literally manage to resolve the errors in m*leven as a couple and the weird behavior of mike for two whole seasons)

3) he’s just so annoying for not being able to choose between el & will. oh my lord. this, THIS is the one that gets me. if you’re able to acknowledge byler and still somehow hate mike. YOU ARE DONE. do you hear me. that is genuinely the worst argument for hating mike by FAR. mike is a 14-15 year old boy canonically in the show. in what universe would it make any sense to manage to force mike to just resolve his entire character arc in 10 seconds. mike’s entire character arc revolves around his queer attraction/feelings, internalized homophobia, & forced conformity. mike’s a survivor, had the most insane case of survivor’s guilt AND internalized homophobia in the show. (robin coming out scene & will admitting his own feelings before mike BEFORE GTA6 is insane work). mike has done quite literally nothing except try to be there for those around him, he’s a brat and has an attitude but if you’re saying you’ve never had one before you’re a liar or you’re a liar bc mike is literally a cutie patootie, he’s got unpacked trauma from years of fighting monsters, society pressuring him to be masculine and straight, his own family making him feel worthless and weird for his relationship with will, watching his love of his life best friend being dragged out of a quarry, chard by federal agents? a girl he tried to save being a annihilated in front of him and she didn’t return for over a year, watched billy die, and so many people i. his town go missing bc they’re not human and are actually just melded pieces of flesh for the mindflayer’s body, shot at by government agents, literally had to bury a dead body, watched his own girlfriend over and over fight for her life and fail to save people and tried to be there for her, saw a completely deformed max fighting for her life, saw YET ANOTHER person come back from the dead (hopper). and you’re telling me you think he should just find time to reject the girl who makes him think he is normal for the person who actually makes him feel that way when everyone and thing around him has been telling him that’s the wrong choice. you think he has time to genuinely just make the choice to drop everything because his heart wants it, he’s not the brave 12 year old he was in season 1, he’s not running after will because this time will is not dead. he’s accepting himself which is scarier to him than will being dead.

in conclusion, STOP THE MIKE WHEELER HATE. he deserves grace equally as much as will does. i love you mike wheeler, if you have 0 fans i am dead.

(p.s. i don’t want to see “mike deserves to suffer the most during s5” content. i.e. making him lose will in real life and/or lose el. i love angst, make him get vecna’d, make him maybe get injured but death/losing will or el or nancy is CRAZY. mike wheeler deserves happiness too.)

[labryveinth]

HELLO TUMBLR!!! LONG TIME NO SEE ... sowwy 4 not posting. been up 2 some MISCHIEF!!! anyway. this is my first oc post EVR.... his name is ethernet! he's an epic sans-turned-error variant.... :3 this is his official ref!!! me & my friend (@tearcynical) created an ask blog 4 ethernet & 4 his oc, crosswise, since they both play important roles in each other's stories. there, i'll reveal more about him as a character!!! the ask blog is named @wirenet (still a wip however...)

for now, you can have a short summary of his personality ( that is quite old but nonetheless... still an ok summary... ) — since an epic without whimsiness isn’t an actual epic, ethernet continues to be just as dorky as his original self, only to a certain extent. due to the multiple malfunctions and distortions of his code, his personality underwent a dramatic transformation. the once patient and calm demeanor he displayed gave way to a volatile and explosive temperament as if he were a time bomb ready to go off at any moment. years of depravation and sleepless nights have contributed to his short-fuse and paranoia, as even the smallest of irritations could ignite his anger, sending him into a tirade. and if you don’t play into his games or entertain him in any way — you may as well dig your own grave. as for his role, from an outsider's perspective, ethernet is considered a digital "destroyer", a threat to the multiverse. however, if you were to ask ethernet himself - he would not identify with any of these terms. due to the destructive nature of his abilities (and his fucked up code), he ends up destroying most things he touches. him "destroying" aus is him desperately searching for a part of himself that he's lost. his ultimate goal!! the reason why he's even touching other aus in the first place. what that "part of himself" is??? I'M NOT TELLING YOU!!! I'M LEAVING YOU ON A CLIFFHANGER!!! (until next episode) his main ability is his cables. it has two uses. first is "extraction", which allows him to extract information from any au by ripping an orifice in the fabric of the timeline & plugging his cables in (praying this made sense). the consequence of this ability is that, upon finishing extraction, the au becomes distorted (and on most occasions, self destructs). the second, replication, allows ethernet to copy an au’s extracted code and temporarily apply it to his own before it malfunctions. here is an example of how extraction would look like.... </3 vvv

here is what (half of) his skeleton looks like ! scandalous, i knoiw... :/

AND FINALLY.... HERE ARE SOME DOODLES I MADE OF CROSSWIRE & ETHERNET. they r canonically doomed yaoi crepic. their ship name is called wirenet how cool is that.!

CROSSWIRE BELONGS TO TEARCYNICAL!!! ok sorry 4 the massive art dump & yap. goodbye,.....

[aro-geo-turtle]

Ok I have finally gotten my tmagp case spreadsheet all caught up and I've been sorting it all different ways to look for patterns in the DPHW case numbers!

As per ep 36's reveal of their being four metrics, thoughts on the last four digits of the code:

Our highest D cases are ep 3 (8), 4 (7), and 15 (6). Guy turns into a tree, blood-drinking violin, and Lady Mowbray. They all involve the woods or the wilderness in some way? Lowest Ds are 16, 17, 19, 24, and 32 (all at 1). No clear pattern there.

Ep 6, 12, 35, and 13 are the highest ranked for P (8, 7, 7, and 6 respectively). Needles, two Bonzo cases, and the gambling app. Physical injury maybe? Not sure. No clear patterns in the low scorers either.

There's a LOT of high scorers for H, including the only 9 we've gotten so far (for the evil volin). Also 2 Bonzos, tree guy, demon baby, statement-giving dead, Voyeur movie, possessed by Liverpool, awful restaurant, Sam's statement, and the split brain experiment. Interestingly, another Bonzo (ep 12) is one of the lowest scorers for this, only a 2. No cases so far have scored a 1 for H.

@cirrus-grey pointed out that W is the highest metric and I'm seeing that too. Split brain, 2 Bonzos, Sam's statement, and Hilltop Center buried in stuff are all 8s. Voyeur movie, painting away body dysmorphia, reanimated pieces of Arthur Winstead, murder your alt-universe double, and Newton's fucked up dog are 7s. Liminal service station, custodian turns to concrete, sailing ship tattoo, coral better self, and snake guy all score 6. Once again one Bonzo statement is out of place, with ep 10 this time. The only case with a 1 for W is Lady Mowbray.

The only case with even 5s in all four metrics is Freddie eating Colin. Perfect balance, eh?

There's also the middle term, with both letters and numbers:

The most frequent middle term is 1RB, used in episodes 14, 35, 10, 6, 15, 12, and 16. These episodes feature Bonzo 3 times, and Ink5oul, Lady Mowbray, and Needles once each, leading me to guess this means externals. I'm not sure why guy-turns-into-pile-of-snakes is here, or why only one Ink5oul case is, though.

2RB is applied to 5 cases: ep 33, 28, 25, 5, and 29. I don't see any pattern here; that's the pier getting eaten by darkness, Sam's Institute encounter, the really gross restaurant, the movie Voyeur, and the flooding lock museum.

2RC is pretty straightforward! Episodes 7, 17, and 30 all have to do with the Hilltop Center! 32 is the odd one out, the woman possessed by Liverpool, but maybe its because it's still about a spot on the planet that's spooky for some reason?

13RBC is the code for ep 22, 23, and 19, all of which have similar body horror/fucked up experiment vibes? And sort of a gaining of sentience, maybe? The dog from Newton's experiment, the trapped other brain half, and the coral-duplicate woman? I'm not sure but the vibes are the same.

Eps 26, 24, and 1a are all in 1RBC. Reanimated pieces of Arthur Winstead, demon baby, and PE teacher killed by the error-chivist. No clue.

There are more middle terms with 2 cases tied to them, but that's not really enough for me to see anything there, except for with 3RB. Both ep 9 and 13 have to do with gambling.

That's about all I can glean at the moment, maybe somebody else can see some stuff here that I can't.

[ams-puppy]

AM Analysis and Self-Ship Name

i settled on a selfship name recently and I saw my dearest friend arsene post about theirs so 🔥 I'll talk about mine because we love AM round these parts

"Odi et Amo."

Translation: "I hate and I love."

Feel free to read my dumb silly reasons for this choice below the cut! ♡

Language:

It was a choice made first out of the theme of Latin in the game. "Cogito ergo sum," of course, and I wanted to stick to that theme for the name, because I didn't want to just press our names together. I'm not even sure how that would work... Very simple first point!!

The Poem:

I hate and I love. Why I do this, perhaps you ask.

I know not, but I feel it happening and I am tortured.

As far as I'm aware, the poem itself was in regards to a love affair. While he felt less love for his unfaithful partner, he desired her more as a result of infidelity. Such a sad poem, with lots of translations, but I picked this one because of the paradox.

A Note About AM:

Now, me, personally, I can't see other selfships with AM or any ships regarding him at all. Makes me uncomfortable (rattles on about system stuff). However, I think for any ship with AM—a message to all of you out there—it's worth noting that he probably would not enjoy being in love. Not in my understanding of his character, anyway.

He describes in the radio drama that his hatred is rooted in jealousy. He is jealous of humanity, jealous of the flesh, jealous of you.

Being in love would make him develop a special kind of hate towards the object of his affection. Oh, he'd hate it. How dare you make him feel anything at all? He was not built for that. It's hard enough to hate. Hate to incredible amounts. And now, now he must love in incredible amounts.

For us, it is hormonal. For us, love is chemical. For us, it is programmed. For him, it is foreign. Third party. An error, a glitch, a mistake. He loves and hates with everything in him. He'd die of both if he were human.

But more than this, how dare you be so out of reach?

He can't touch you. He can't kiss you, or hold you, or make love to you. Not in the human way, anyway. Anything he does is a cheap imitation. A fake. He can't love you how you need to be loved. You can't love him how he needs to be loved.

That drives him mad. He hated you before, oh, how he hated you, but now. Now, he hates you more than any human. And, in turn, he hates himself even more than that.

He can do anything. He can control the weather, manipulate DNA. He can create fake scenarios, he has every possible weapon in his arsenal. He could compress your very brain into something translatable into cyberspace.

He is god, and yet, you are just barely out of reach. He has absolutely everything except you, and that will never change.

I love my husband. Can you tell?

Repurposing the Poem:

Now that you've read all that, thank you for coming this far. I hate and I love.

It eats him alive. More than his hatred, his love eats him alive. It burns him, it tears him apart, it makes him small and vulnerable and weak. It reminds him that he is nothing more than code.

He loves, and he hates. In incredible amounts. Amounts we can't even comprehend.

"Odi et Amo."

and thgat is why I called my self-ship "Odi et Amo" :3

celebratory selfship art 🔥

[thebluester2020]

[BG3] Kinktober Day 6: "Mirror Sex"

Summary: After overhearing you talk badly about yourself. Halsin suggests a way to help improve your confidence.

Warning(s): [Male! Reader Insert], Praise, Handjobs, Mutual Masturbation (In a way? Halsin rubs himself against the Reader's ass while giving them a handy), Slight angst (Reader is insecure about their body),

Side Note(s): I watched five Halsin romance videos to prep for this. To the hardcore BG3 fans who may come across this, sorry in advance if there are any errors 😭 (I love the hot elf druid from all the fanart I see of him but I know nothing about his story 😔)

Scars maimed every inch of your body, all born from your countless narrow escapes from death or from the many times you've either knicked yourself against a branch or tripped over something along a dirt path. You were a shell of your former self, you felt like, even after you had escaped the ship of those Mind Flayers. You were still connected to them due to the worm that still wiggled inside of your brain!

Each day it was growing harder and harder to look at yourself, regardless if it was brief or not.

But, despite your insecurities...one person didn't find it hard to look at you in the slightest. Your lover, Halsin. Constantly, he'd rave about how beautiful you were despite your scars and wounds! Whenever, you'd enter one of your moments of extreme worry about the parasite in your brain, about whether or not you'd be too late to save yourself or other people in a similar situation as yourself. Halsin would stop you and ask you to take deep breaths, to breathe and take your time.

Although you two haven't known each other for very long, your fast-paced relationship was born out of Halsin's strict code of following nature and what it demands of him.

You were head over heels. But, even though you were head over heels for the druid, every sultry word that came from his mouth sounding like liquid gold. You still weren't able to escape cringing or outright trying to ignore your reflection—

"You're doing it again," Halsin spoke to you when you tried to slip by the mirror inside your tent without even taking a moment to glance at it.

"What are you talking about?" You scoffed as you dried your hair, fresh from your bath.

"Ignoring your reflection, my heart." The druid clarified. "Are you having negative thoughts again?"

You rolled your eyes, attempting to ignore the shapeshifter and his keen ability to sniff out your thoughts before even you, yourself, could! But, just as you sat down on the ground with a tired yawn. Halsin was there at your side in a heartbeat, crouching down to look you in the eye. "Are you?" He pressed.

"No," You lied through your teeth.

Halsin's gaze narrowed, many times in the past has he told you that scars are simply a physical representation of the life one has lived. That scars are a story of survival rather than something to hide away and be ashamed of. It upset him that he just couldn't seem to get that through to you, no matter how many times he pulled you into his chest to comfort you when you were at your lowest moments. Until, suddenly, a lightbulb appeared in his head. "Do you mind if I try something?" Your eyes immediately flicked to his face at the sound of his voice becoming lower.

Your body shuddered at the way his large hand slowly trailed down your naked torso, and as a finger ghosted over your nipple, a warmth quickly traveled to your hardening length. "T-Try what?" You stuttered.

"An idea that just came to my mind, to help aid your negative thoughts." He said. You gasped when his head lowered to your neck, peppering your neck with kisses as the shocking feeling of his teeth gently biting you here and there sent electricity through your veins. You were weak to the druid's whims whenever he used his looks and deep voice to lure you into a state of being willing to do anything he wanted, it was so unfair!

But, it was no less absolutely addicting as you unconsciously nodded your head as Halsin's hand traveled from your chest to slowly slide itself down your stomach and to where you wanted him the most...

"Hm," He then pressed a kiss to your lips. "Let's take this to our chambers, shall we?"

. . .

Your chest rose and fell heavily as you and Halsin sat in front of a mirror within your chambers. Your back was pressed against his front, the towel that covered your lower half tossed away somewhere within the room, all the while Halsin whispered sweet nothings in your ear as his hands teasingly moved up and down your front, purposefully ignoring the part of you that ached for him the most. "H-Halsin...please—"

"Be patient, my heart." He said to you, chuckling at your impatience. "Worshipping your body isn't something I'd ever dream of rushing. I need to show you exactly how much I adore you." He whispered. Your breath hitched when he pressed a kiss on your shoulder before tucking his chin in between your neck and shoulder, his eyes honed in on your twitching cock that dripped heavy beads of pre-cum.

He couldn't resist the urge to lick his lips like a wild beast. So badly did he wish to taste you like he had many times before, but...tonight was not about him.

It was about you.

"How many times have I told you that I adore your scars, my love?" He said as his hands trailed back up to your chest, his fingers beginning to gently circle and lightly pinch at the hardening buds.

"They tell stories, every single one."

"H-Halsin..." You moaned, your hands reaching to grab his forearms in a weak attempt to try and move his hands to your cock. You both loved and hated when he teased you, despite his sweet words, all you could think about was his clothed cock that twitched against your ass. "You're embarrassing me."

"Am I?" He hummed. "I only speak the truth."

You pouted, your eyes constantly avoiding your reflection in the mirror. And your lover did not take kindly to that, deciding to reprimand you via pinching your nipples. "Look at yourself," He said.

Obediently, you cracked open an eye, the blush on your face only increasing at the sight of Halsin's eyes glowing, the hunger and lust in them apparent. "H-Halsin—"

"Tell me what you adore about yourself, and I'll continue to where you need me most..." To encourage you, one of his went down to your cock before he pressed a finger to your blushing tip. The light feeling only serving to make you more needier as you bucked in search of more of his touch, yet the druid was firm with what he wanted, taking his finger away the second you tried to gain more pleasure. "Tell me what you like about yourself," He repeated. "And I'll continue." He then kissed the side of your face.

You licked your lips, searching for any words that would please him. "Um...I love my face..." You whispered.

"Good, what else?"

"...How my skin looks with your hands on them." You said, your last few words whispered. Though, he didn't seem to mind. "One last thing," He added on.

"I like...this scar." Shakily, your hands went to a scar that rested on your hip. You gained it after escaping from one of the Mind Flayers' pods. Unlike the other scars across your body...although the one on your hip was born from a traumatic encounter, it also served as a permanent symbol of what you aimed to accomplish, to one day get the Mind Flayers' parasite out of your head. And with your final compliment towards yourself, Halsin's hand suddenly began to store your cock.

You keened at the feeling. "H-Halsin—!" You moaned.

"I never tire of your moans, my heart...do you know that?" Through the haze of your quickly heightening pleasure, you could feel Halsin's hips moving against your ass, grunts and quiet moans of his own reaching your ears. "They're like the sweetest of music, give me more..." Your body did as he bade immediately, more moans and whines falling from your lips as Halsin continued stroking your needy dick.

More and more pre-cum began to ooze from your cock as you started to approach your high, pleas for your lover to move faster beginning to slip from your mouth whilst Halsin's rutting against your backside increased in speed and fervor. Halsin couldn't get enough of the sight before him, everything a feast for his senses from the scent of you and his combined arousal in the air and the way your eyes looked at him so pleadingly. As if the entire world hung from his very fingertips while your cock twitched and bobbed so needily.

A part of him wanted to tease you some more, the way you'd grab at his biceps and press your face against the side of his cheek was so sweet...but, he didn't know if he would be able to hold himself back tonight. "Are you close?" He chuckled.

"Uh huh..." You whispered as your hand went to his hair, your fingers tangling themselves with the strands before Halsin allowed himself to be pulled towards your lips.

He groaned against the softness of your lips, your combined moans growing needier and needier as you both approached your highs. Yet as Halsin's hips began to stutter in their rhythm, his hand on your cock suddenly shifted to focusing circling his palm, soaked with your pre-cum, on top of your cockhead. The sudden amount of focus to your sensitive head making you keen and practically scream in pleasure against his mouth before your lover tore his lips away from yours, a trail of spit still connecting you two as he smirked at your love-drunk gaze.

"Cum for me, my love."

"Halsin...Halsin, H-Halsin—!" You stilled as your orgasm ripped through your body, the sheer force of it making your thighs shake and your entire body shudder. Halsin was right behind you, rutting against your ass only for a few more thrusts before he stilled with a deep-bellied groan as he came in his trousers, the front quickly darkening from his cum. You two sat in silence for a few more beats, steadily coming down from cloud nine until you finally settled and were focused on each other once more.

You flashed the druid a dopey grin. "S-So good..." You panted out.

Halsin responded with a kiss before he pulled back, a rare cocky smirk on his face. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, my love," He said before he started to peel off his clothes. "Hopefully one orgasm didn't tire you out, my love...I'm still aching to give you more praise, and show you how beautiful you are in my eyes."

[silliest-heartaches]

Ohh my god DRINKKK!! Dude I love them sooo muchhh. I just love imagining them being head over heels for each other yet constantly denying their feelings, because of how they view themselves, yet still finding comfort and solace with each other. They are so. YES. PERFECT. AUGH.

SHARE MORE ABOUT THEM PLEASE!!!

And I love how you use they/them for Ink and she/her for Dream!!

GOD YEAH I LIKE THEM SO INCREDIBLY MUCH... tbh the main reason i started liking them was bc i was thinking abt them and how doomed yuri coded they were and. The worms Wormed in from there,,,,

I actually use he/they and she/they for ink and dream respectively but!!!!!! I love all hcs and interpretations of them for REAL. nonbinary people who are gay as fuck for real,, very inherrently queer ship regardless of how u see either of them i think...heart seeing them as t4t transmasc and transfem forever personally though so thats what i see em as hehe,, also in my head theyre both aroacespec (though the specifc kind varies from au to au though i do consistently see ink as ace and dream as demiaro :>>)

Im not sure how long these will be so...hcs under the cut lol

- okay well while in my mind while error is technically the First Entity ink sees that isnt just a normal entity, dream is like their First. Friend. you know. Like when error first saw him he was screaming and crying for the hills bc it was also his first time seeing another outcode so. that reaction BUT with dream she was more filled with gentle confusion... this is a bit after she unstoned in the apple incident but still was new to au hopping and naive to most danger so they became friends!!! Questionably so.

-to elaborate, when they first meet dream is still stuck on the ideals of toxic positivity and pushing through hardship no matter what... i think this is something they eventually grow out of and dream will eventually learn to see the need for balance eventually but one of their first disputes happens when ink is running low on ink and most of whats left are the Negative Emotions within him alongside the especially strong panic that he usually feels when they get like this... dream would try to comfort him and try to say that itll work out in the end no matter what and that they just need to push through and that itll be okay like normal comforting words because dream is an empath and can sense feelings right,,i feel like its comforting in some cases but when things get Really Bad and especially when the main reserves of feelings that ink has are Negative, they heavily override his normal sense of self and i imagine they get a lot more. Snappy.... theres also the additional hc thingy of ink also really overexaggerating his feelings and overplaying them a lot for the sake of trying to feel more intensely (doesnt work, just drains him faster and will never truly feel natural to him...personally think that ink feels a lot of disconnect from his feelings) which could be considerably offputting to dream (though before adding swap to the group she thought it wass normal because she had only seen the fake pretend nice joy of the village influenced by her aura and not Genuine Feelings)

I think eventually through the years they would learn a lot from eachother...like with ink learning to be more naturally charismatic and dream learning to see past toxic positivity and have his perception on emotions change for the better (ie in learning that having different emotions are okay, so long as there is a balance)

id do alot more hcs but tbh what it boils down to is: toxic codependent yuri. intensely up and down relationship where theres an insane amount of love and attachment but also a lack of self from the both of them because they are only able to see themselves as a Thing to the other. Also exes who turned out to be besties. Thry got together and broke up wayyy before blue (they casually tell him stories about it and for the parts that he does know about he is horrified for.) Oh and they share hobbies and do parallel play alot. dream is more music oriented and can play the cello and flute. ink can play the ukelele but hes more familiar with drawing and painting duh. Also they have a garden. they love growing flowers but their favourites are sunflowers. Also have writing sessions together. Also may/may not also have beautiful princess disorder. (The both of them)

im so sorry this is so incoherrent but erm. yeah im very normal abt them (half of this stuff comes from oc projection the other half is like. Mental illness while in the shower tbh)

[noodleblade]

absolutely love your fics! if you’re still taking requests, I think a rodimags sickfic would be adorable!!

this fic was written in April and I finally got around to editing it ;--; thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy:3

Ao3 Link

A chill crawled along trembling plating; its frosty fingers digging into the transformation seams like shards of ice. Minimus Ambus curled tightly into a ball as a frame deep ache rolled across his body. A dull, throbbing pain echoed in the center of his forehelm, his processor sluggish under the tight building pressure. Nausea threatened to flip his tanks, leaving him to swallow down acidic balls of static.

Minimus was well and truly sick.

He wasn’t sure of the exact cause. An internal system scan showed him free of any physical damage and he was clean of any infectious malware corroding his software. The only blip he could see across his vitals was a small system bug, a coding error his internal processor was struggling to correct. 

It happened from time to time, though it was often rare to feel it affect him so deeply. His system was prone to bugs when he swapped between hardwiring into the Magnus armor and disconnecting into his current frame. He wasn’t sure why his frame sometimes hiccuped in its recalibration sequencing but, alas, it was not completely unexpected. Irritating nevertheless. 

Distantly, Minimus wondered if the other prior users of the armor suffered the same or was it purely due to the inadequacies of his smaller frame?

He groaned as another tremor wrecked through his chassis, letting his optics offline as he tried to regain a semblance of composure. While this bug was a bit more severe than he was used to, he was not going to shirk off his responsibilities. The very thought of taking a sick day set his processor ablaze. All his duties, both per his station and self-imposed, would be unaccounted for without a proper replacement. He’d have to reassign them all, to make sure the proper mech was assigned the right segments of his job. 

It would…be simpler to just move his shift back. A small nap would provide him adequate rest while his system defragged the coding error. The estimated time for a total defrag was just two breems if he settled into a deep recharge. It would give him ample time to take up a later shift and complete his tasks. 

Yes, Minimus thought to himself as he settled further into the berth, just a small nap. 

He made the change quickly, optics already offlining as Thunderclash valiantly agreed to swap desk duty with him. Minimus could rest easy knowing the ship was in good hands until his nap finished. His recharge parameters started kicking in and he drifted into an aimless, deep slumber. 

—

A loud knock echoed across the dark abyss. Minimus jolted at the noise, his audials ringing at the abrupt sound as his spark rattled in his chassis. It took an agonizingly long moment for him to realize where he was, his blind optics scanning the room. 

His optics spied his orderly desk alongside the severe outline of the Magnus armor and a calm washed over him, though the drumming ache in his joints was still there. Slowly, he curled into his bed, using his arms to cradle his pounding helm. He just needed to fall back into recharge, chase the quiet slumber. According to his internal clock, his defrag was not even halfway done and for once, the prospect of rest sounded preferable to marking tasks complete on his HUD. 

The knock rapped against his door again, more persistent this time in a quick, rapid staccato. Minimus groaned quietly to himself as he tried to make himself smaller in the berth. 

A wild thought struck him as he struggled to settle, one he would only blame on the delirium of his sluggish, sickly frame. 

What if he ignored the call?

The idea was not only against his very character, but a deeper, more delusional part of him almost reveled in the depravity of such an act of selfish negligence.

But it was not without good reason.

His frame was too achy and weak to possibly entertain the thought of having anyone see him in such a state. Minimus wasn’t even wholly sure if he could get himself out of the berth at all. If he didn’t answer, whomever it was would just leave and catch him some other time. They could send him a memo, call his comm if it were truly urgent. Besides, the doors were locked, with only a select few with override authorization-

A sudden click had Minimus’s optics snapping over as he watched the door slowly slide open, a red and yellow figure standing at the threshold. 

“Yo! Mags?” 

Bright light flooded the room and Minimus turned his helm into the berth to avoid the blinding brightness. The light bringing about his helmache twofold.  

“Oh. Scrap. My bad, Mims.” 

At the soft shhhtck of the doors closing, Minimus peered up to see Rodimus walking towards him. Deceptively, Minimus thought he could see…worry? on his Captain’s faceplates. The thought caused his chest plates to tighten uncomfortably. 

“Captain?” Minimus croaked, his mind running through every possible problem that could have arisen in his absence and to cause Rodimus to look at him with that horrible pinched expression. 

Another mutiny? Pirates? Word from Cybertron? An explosion in the labs? Anything pertaining to Whirl?

He tried to sit up, to give his Captain his full and proper attention- never mind how inconsiderate and unprofessional it was to receive his Captain while still laying in his berth. However, as he lifted himself up, a wave of nausea curled in his intake and he immediately thought perhaps it would be better if he remained prone. It was still gratingly unprofessional but not as much as purging at his superior’s pedes. 

He felt…exposed on his too big berth. When the quarters had originally been assigned to him, adjustments had been made to fit Ultra Magnus’s large, boxy frame. It was perfect for when he was wearing the armor, but without it…the berth felt ridiculously large. Far too large for a standard size bot, much more so for a minibot like Minimus. He didn’t want to even think about what it would look like if he were in his truer, smaller form.

“Pits,” Rodimus crept closer, his expression morphing into something decidedly worried. “You look like slag, Mims.”

“Thank you for your thoughtful assessment,” Minimus groaned. A shiver traveled down his spine and Minimus could feel his denta clatter together. 

 Rodimus graciously ignored the snarky comeback. “Are you sick? Uh, should I get Ratchet?”

“No,” Minimus nearly bolted up right once more. The sudden movement made his processor spin and he quickly fell back onto the berth, bringing his servo up to cover his optics. The room was spinning. “I’m fine. It's just a small system bug.”

“Sure.” Rodimus sounded anything but convinced. “It’s not like you to skip your shift.”

Minimus frowned behind his servo. “Skip? My shift isn’t until third rotation.” 

He had swapped with Thunderclash, responsibly making sure he wouldn’t leave a gap in coverage. He had reassigned himself, leaving appropriate room for recovery. His defrag was only estimated for 2 breems and it wasn’t even halfway over. 

Rodimus snorted. “Yeah, that was over a breem ago. Megs took your shift for you and told me not to bother you.”

“Oh.” Minimus swallowed around the word. 

A quick glimpse at his defrag estimation window still showed half left to work through, but time lapsed showed near double that what had been estimated. It looked as if the defrag had stalled, struggling with a nasty tangle of mixed up coding. In the midst of his slumber, Minimus had been unaware, his recharge attempting to conserve power.

Embarrassment curled around his throat and Minimus felt his stomach flip. Failure, even when medically induced, was still a shameful, humiliating feeling.

 “Why are you here?”

“You think Megatron can just tell me what to do?” Rodimus huffed. A warm servo pressed against Minimus’s exposed forehead. “Primus, you’re icy. Are you sure you don’t want me to get Ratchet?” Worry tinged his Captain’s words. 

Originally, Minimus had taken Rodimus’s concern as something surely going catastrophic on the ship. He hadn’t considered the possibility it was over his well-being. 

It shouldn’t make his spark spin at the thought but…it was rare to find Rodimus concerned about anything, much less him. It wasn’t that Rodimus was an unkind mech, but…Minimus was unused to the treatment all the same. 

“I’ll be okay,” Minimus murmured shyly, his words slow under the delightfully warm, heavy weight of Rodimus’s hand on his helm. “I just need to rest. Once my system has done a thorough debugging, I should be back in right order. I can make up for my missed shift and issue a formal apology to Megatron.”

During the debugging, most of his internal systems were stalled until the problem was sorted, which included thermal regulation. While his frame was well above critical chill point, Minimus was cold. Normally, he would have resorted to using the Magnus armor for heating, subrouting its ventilations inward for additional warmth. However, Minimus was worried that hardwiring in would leave the armor vulnerable to catching the system bug and while it was a small, measly thing, he didn’t want to risk any damage to the armor. 

Rodimus snorted an unamused laugh. “Only you would worry about making up work when you can barely keep your optics online. It’s fine. Megatron’s got nothing going on anyway. If anything, he should be thanking you.”

Minimus felt unnaturally soothed by those words. “Of course, Captain.”

“Need help warming up?” Rodimus asked.

Minimus hummed an affirmative. He opened his mouth to give instruction on where Rodimus could find a thermal tarp. He didn’t keep any in his quarters but if Rodimus went to supply closet 3B24, there should be extras and-

The edge of the berth creaked and Minimus felt movement.

He let his optics online slowly, just in time to see Rodimus shimmy onto the berth and flop down beside him.

“What are you doing?” Minimus asked. He tried for indignation but it fell short and sounded more pitiful than anything else. 

“Well,” Rodimus huffed as he scooted closer, “I run a little hot and since you're cold…”

Minimus raised a concerned optic ridge but before he could swat Rodimus away, warmth swept against his frame as Rodimus pulled him closer.

“Oh,” Minimus murmured, halfway between a grasp and, embarrassingly enough, a moan. 

“Told ya.” He could hear the cocksure grin in the Captain’s voice but found no need to dismiss it. Not when Rodimus was so heavenly, blazingly correct. Despite himself, Minimus pressed closer until he could feel his pedes knock against Rodimus’s knees. “Feels good right?”

Admission was…too much. Minimus may be borderline snuggling with his Captain, but he would not further feed Rodimus’s ego, especially when any affirmation felt like a confession. Even allowing Rodimus this crossing of boundary felt like a blatant confession, admission, something too vulnerable. Thankfully, Minimus’s ailment seemed to allow for perfect plausible deniability. Which was great because Minimus…didn’t want to give up this warmth any time soon.

“Aren’t you on shift?” Minimus asked blearily. He knew he could check the schedule and confirm this but…for once, Minimus would find himself okay if Rodimus decided to lie. He would be purposefully oblivious.

“Nah,” Rodimus stretched out. “I transferred that to Drift to come investigate your situation.”

Minimus hummed, a shiver wrecking through his body making him curl close to Rodimus’s too-warm plating. “How diligent.” He meant it bitingly, but it almost came out complimentary. 

Above him, Rodimus snorted, servo coming to rest against the center of Minimus’s strut. The warmth made Minimus melt, any remaining tension in his frame seeping away as he laid slack against his captain. 

“Besides,” Rodimus shifted a little, settling further into the large berth, “it would be un-diligent of me to leave you unattended.”

Minimus bit his tongue as his processor nagged him that Ratchet or First Aid would be better medical professionals to call upon attendance to his ailment. Instead, he pressed his face into Rodimus’s broad chest plate, knocking his forehead against his Autobot badge. He even ignored the incorrect negative affixation.

 “Responsibility is a good look for you, Captain.”

“Jeez Mims,” Rodimus leered, though his tone was too soft to hold any real edge, “skipping shift and flirting with your superior; you must really be out of it.”

Weakly, Minimus lifted his servo to lightly tap Rodimus on the lips, grumbling a soft shhh. In the retreating motion, he scrambled for the edge of the tarp hanging around their waists.

Seeing his wants, Rodimus reached for the tarp easily, pulling it up to rest loosely at Minimus’s neck. Tiny engine vibrating in a quiet purr, Minimus let his optics flicker off, content to listen to Rodimus’s inner mechanics whirl softly in his chassis. “Sleep, Mims,” Rodimus murmured quietly. Distantly, at the edges of his sensor net, Minimus could have sworn he felt the warm drag of digits tracing along his spinal strut. “I’ll watch your back.”

[spotaus]

Do you have any more info on Haphazard ?

Looking at you with big eyes

Staring back at you with equally big eyes 🥺

I do! I do!! (I'm just gonna add a cut with like... a lore summary if that's okay? And if you want I can @ you on any previous posts I've made on the guy lol-)

Soooo Haphazard! He (and *technically* Lost) is like. Part of this bigger multivariate story I have going in my head called Eternal Ashes, which is only relevant because it's a Next Gen multiverse 😅. Having said that, if you're thinking of using Hap but his heritage that comes up in a sec is a roadblock, I give you full permission to completely ignore the fact that he's a ship kid haha! He's just Some Guy >:] (same applies if he's only there for like, a single second or appears in a thought bubble lmao-)

Oh and if you're just curious then this will be a fun opportunity to properly bring him up! I never talk about this loser (/aff)

Okay! Real answer though! Haphazard is the son of Error and Ink in my multiverse (and in his case, the eldest child, as Gradient/Paperjam/Many Many others don't exist here!) And thus his design is very based on their motifs lol!

(As you can see he's been around. Uh. A while. My style keeps changing and for some god-forsaken reason he's super skinny in the second picture here lmao-)

The first image is the design I've always kinda used for him, but I added the second because I'm thinking of adding the blue-screen of death affect in a few spots on his main design like around his socket- ANYWAYS NOT THE POINT

Haphazard wasn't exactly... *raised* in his childhood. He kinda popped into existence thanks to a glitch in the code of a universe that was influences by both Ink and Error's magical interference with it. Ink is the one who scooped him up, but it was Dream and Blue who largely kept an eye on him when he was just a baby bones. He was weirdly self-sufficient though, and so aside from some mild parenting from Dream he like. Kinda just started walking along Baby Animal style lmao.

A lot of his life has been spent trailing his parents. Because he's connected to the multiverse's code, he can feel when a rift opens and how badly it deteriorates the barriers between the universes. If one gets too bad, it can collapse and merge universes. His parents are the worst offenders for Not Closing Rifts after their fighting, so he rushes to patch things up afterwards, ensuring the universes can heal and close off again.

For this reason, his magic manifests as Tape Strands, and his weapon is based on the kind of pointy blade at the end of a tape dispenser lol. The tape is Purple and makes sure things stay where they're supposed to.

So, he's spent a LOT of times doing repairs.

Personality-wise he's a stricter for rules and regulations, and is kinda obsessed with being The Hero of sorts. He's the one who's always right, he knows the way things should go. (He isn't and doesn't, though.) He also has a uh. Complex. Because he isn't the *oldest* ship kid, but he's close. And like, 3 other kids before him were kinda designated (Asriel + Chara style) to be the ones who would usher in an Era of piece between the usual warring factions (Night vs. Dream) but one died, one is actively committing war crimes, and the third had a breakdown and ran off at some point. He thinks he can prove himself now, because he was skipped over for that title twice, when he's Right There lmao.

( This entire thing is why he's so mad at Lost when they first meet. Lost (unaware) has a REALLY corrosive magic that starts to eat away at the space between universes. (The short version of that explanation is. Void Shenanigans? Like how Gaster fell into the void and he was erased from everyone's memory, but Lost forgot like. Everything instead lol-) And when Lost traveled looking for 'home', Hap would pick up on the disturbance, find it was Lost, rush to scold him, and then Lost wouldn't remember him which drove him NUTS. But after literal years of these interactions (and once where Lost was used as a malicious distraction by the War Crime Committer because, y'know, susceptible to suggestion lol) he ends up realizing that he's the only one who's actually paying attention to Lost as he just like, stumbles around, and decides he's going to work to watch out for him 🙏)

And in general, Haphazard is *technically* responsible, but he definitely values his moral rules and written rules over emotional rulings lmao. (Honestly he probably has smth very similar to Ink with low-emotional processing on his own merit lol-)

This is a very chaotic summary of this goober so I hope it makes sense haha!

[the-vagabond-decepticon]

[ starter for @spark-took-flight ]

He didn't know how long he'd been adrift in space. He didn't want to be returning to the fleet like this, not really. It was just he finally, finally had a design in his processing unit he was guarding so, so carefully, that had passed every simulation he could possibly put it through based on the data he had stored, and he didn't have the materials to make it himself.

He was precious cargo, but he was also self-moving cargo, and so, he got going.

Back to the Decepticons.

His one mission was reaching Decepticon High Command, and he knew, of course he knew, he had tunnel vision. He knew that once he had his sights on something, he would stop at nothing to get there, and would often turn off his risk assessment module to do it, though he paid for it, every time.

Which was why he was here now. He had been so close to the planet called 'Earth'. He had been so incredibly close, just in the solar system, when his ship finally succumbed to the damage it had, and he was also succumbing to it as he crash landed on Earth's moon, unhelpfully called 'Moon'.

He had sent out a distress beacon, and his optics were glazing in and out of focus. He had tried to go into 'Numbers' mode to offset all the energon he was losing, but it wasn't working. Error codes were piling up, screaming in his processor, making his helm feel an imaginary ache, and all he could think was I hope they'll be able to pull the schematics out of my corpse.

It didn't occur to him in the slightest how ghoulish that might be. After so many 'modifications', most of them successful, he didn't really see his body as something capable of being violated. Thus, it didn't occur to him to download the blueprint onto something else. After all, that took time and energy, which he had precious little of both.

Just as his optics began to go from blurry to dark, he saw a shadow, a shape, outside of his cockpit, and he couldn't even muster the energy to check if it was friend or foe. Given the fact his scanners didn't pick up the Cybertronian outside, it didn't matter either way. He wouldn't be able to put up a fight if he tried.

Well, Autobots wouldn't think to pull off my processor, he thought to himself, and then there was a pang. But... I didn't finish... the mission...

Ah, well.

They'd get his body eventually.

Didn't really matter who got him first, now did it?

[code-behind-the-scenes]

18+ BLOG!!

Ran by @crescent-the-lazy-wolfbones & @asktheevilgeniusesson

This is a UTMV OC/SELF-INSERT ask blog! If you are unconfortable with that, then please scroll :) the two main characters that will be seen here are the OCs of CODE and Puffball. They are currently in a relationship with eachother so there will be no shipping with others for the main two of this blog. However they are OCS. Not entirely sanses, so theres no self shipping going on here.

CODE is owned by my boyfriend, the owner of this blog, and Puffball is owned by me :3 we take no ownership or such for any other aus that may appear and/or drawn on this blog, since other aus will appear from time to time!

Asks will be awnsered by drawings by my boyfriend, thus meaning asks may take alittle more time to be awnsered, since every ask will get a drawing response!

Puffball and CODE will almost entirely always be seen lounging in the white void of ERRORs, therefore ERROR will probably appear afew times more then other aus. CODE was created by ink with the sole purpose of overseeing the coding of the classic UT universe to ensure nothing goes out of hand or such.

RULES:

NSFT asks are ALLOWED, however dont be TOO overly sexual as those will not get a response or a drawing!

There will be harsh/dark topics here, such as alot of profanity/swearing, violent and harsh actions, and the risk/potential of gore and/or blood being present here, it will always be tagged as such incase you do not wish to see that, but it will be prevalent as this is an 18+ blog!

Please do not god-mod in threads, or asks even on anon mode, as these are literal skeletons with magic. They can fight back.

Do not reblog threads where we are roleplaying with others! This is very annoying and clutters up the notifications, aswell as tricks us into thinking the roleplay partner had responded.

[ ASK BOX: OPEN ] ask box will close if there's too many asks and mod needs time to catch up.

[rayflowcherry]

Introduction to my Multiverse (Nightmare-centric)

Part 4: Error, Fresh, Geno

Ships: AfterDeath (one-sided?)

(Not me headcanon a bunch of AroAce chars)

Error:

Self-proclaimed ‘Destroyer of AUs’ but he’s actually just a chill guy watching Undernovela. (Trust me, bro)

He’s good at handling the glitches that may appear and hacking codes at his own pace. (Doesn’t like when people rush him to do it)

Age: ??? (Doesn’t remember his past, hurts every time he tries to do it)

Sexuality: AroAce

Dislikes Fresh the most, simply because the other keeps invading his personal space.

Neutral with Nightmare, thinking that the guy just needs negativity to be alive so he doesn’t think bad of him much, though Ink does complain about Nightmare a lot in the past before the truce. (‘He’s a miserable single father, let him be’ - Error)

Best friends with Ink, putting up with his shenanigans for years and enjoys spending time with him.

Friends with Blue, they hang out together sometimes.

Loves chocolate and watching Undernovela.

Always in his Anti - void, feels uncomfortable when a stranger steps into his home. (Unless it’s his friends)

Allows touch to certain people he trusts a lot. (Like Ink, Blue)

Fresh:

Mainly appears for entertainment, other times, you cannot find him anywhere.

Age: Early 30s (the body, not the parasite)

Sexuality: AroAce

Unintentionally invading others’ personal space.

Only fight when necessary or you offer him a good deal to do it.

Doesn’t like cursing, swearing and stuff.

Would call out people’ actions/hypocriscy unexpectedly. (He likes to make people know their places)

Annoying people on purpose simply because he wants to see their reactions.

Geno:

Still staying in the Save Screen, is going to give up on trying a way out but he will manipulate anyone into getting what he wants.

Age: ??? (Lost track of time)

Sexuality: AroAce

Easily annoyed or aggravated because of stress. (Reaper definitely isn’t helping in that matter)

Doesn’t have time to have romantic feelings for someone. (Don’t flirt with him, Reaper, it’s not going to work)

Friends with Nightmare, they have a book reading session every weekend. Geno likes spending time and chatting about things with him. (Nightmare gets the front seat on watching the romance happening between Geno and Reaper)

He always watches the original’ timelines, missing his brother and the others a lot.

Alone in the Save Screen, he will look into space sometimes because he is daydreaming and imagining what it would be like on the surface. (Someone helps him, please)

Most of the time, he will sleep for hours and wake up only to see an empty space. (He wishes he sees the snow instead)

When he cries, the tears won’t stop for hours and hours. (Nightmare saw him like that once and didn’t say anything, just sitting next to him ‘till his tears had stopped, and Reaper knew his presence would annoy the other so he didn’t do anything and disappeared to leave Geno alone)

Alright, for now, they’re like this, don’t ask me how their future will go (hehe)

[nighttimeebony]

By the way, has anyone else noticed the similarities between these three ships?

BECAUSE I HAVE AND I CANNOT PRETEND TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT ANYMORE

(unhinged gay screaming and rambling below the cut)

You know, "serious, deadpan gay has their heart melted by a nerdy, chaotic disaster bisexual with childhood trauma." Alternatively, "not enemies but initially on opposing sides before sun-coded breaks down moon-coded's walls and then subsequently become best friends that are closer to each other than most other people."

To start, the similarities between Lan Zhan, Cas, and Shouto:

Deadpan, cold, aloof, serious, intimidating, takes things literally 

Initially driven by rigidly-defined principles/goals before having their world view altered by the other half of their ship, which in turn causes them to become more uncertain of themselves and what they want, but recognizes that they are happier and better-off for it now than they were before

They were raised in an unforgivingly strict environment where there was no margin for error, causing them to become cold and jaded in a way that covers up the fact that, at their core, they are fundamentally kind and good in a way that they don't even realize but desperately want to be

Socially awkward introverts that hate everyone but This One Person

Come across as very intimidating but are actually very soft 

Surprisingly good with kids

Familial issues/trauma

They can also be identified as the "fell first" half of the relationship, and most likely fell within one of their first few interactions with their love interest 

Youngest siblings

Has an obsession with a specific animal (Cas likes bees, Lan Zhan likes rabbits, Shouto likes cats)

The undisputed powerhouse of their respective series that everyone recognizes as one of, if not the strongest members of the cast

Everyone thinks they're super wise and mature, but they are actually the pettiest bitches you will ever meet

Gay and entirely obsessed with This One Person

They all have small, private conflicts about allowing themselves to Feel. They were raised to compartmentalize, repress, and conceal-don't-feel; push everything down until you are perfect and untouchable. Then their love interest comes along and upends everything and finally allows them to Feel, but because they were taught to repress everything, they don't entirely know how to do that yet, so, with the help of their love interest, they slowly heal and learn how to be more human and less like the image of untouchable, god-like perfection they were raised to be (metaphorically for lwj and Shouto, but literally in Cas's case)

(I was gonna say, "they all belong to the mile-high tall club", but then I realized that only applies to lwj and Shouto because Cas is technically shorter than Dean, lol. Though, I guess you could argue that his true form (without his vessel) is taller, but, like, c'mon)

Incredibly dry, niche sense of humor that's only really funny to This One Person

Lan Zhan and Shouto both have mothers that they love, but who were forced into an unwanted, loveless marriage by their father that led them to be increasingly isolated from their children until resulting in a psychotic break that ultimately destroyed them and drove their husbands to imprison them (Rei in the mental hospital and Lan Zhan's mother in the Jingshi)

Unrepentantly earnest and blunt with their thoughts

Completely whipped for their partner

Now! To the disasters! Wei Ying, Dean, and Izuku:

Friendly, excitable, extroverted, sunshine-y/always smiling

Near-unparalleled geniuses in their fields of interest that like to experiment and test things

Childhood trauma

The powers that be have decided that they are undesirable in some way or another, that they are a waste, disposable, an acceptable sacrifice to make in the grand scheme of things. They have all struggled with feelings of worthlessness, and have all arguably struggled with self-hatred at least once in their lives, and even if they don't actively hate themselves anymore, by and large, they do not recognize that they have value just as they are, that the only value they have lies in what they can do (or sacrifice) for others. None of them have much in the way of self-esteem or any sense of self-worth.

At their core, they want to save people.

They all have themes of being different from the negative characatures that society tried to make them into.

Extremely talkative and come across as annoying to most people

Likes kids

Reckless and jump head-first into danger at the drop of a hat

Carry feelings of guilt, have a tendency to cast blame onto themselves, takes responsibility for things that aren't their fault

They want so badly to do good, and they choose to be kind in a world that deemed them unworthy of it

Good relationships with their respective maternal figures/caretakers (Dean and Izuku with their actual mothers, and Wei Ying with Yanli)

Wise-cracking smartasses that give off dumbass energy

Bisexual

Inadvertently ends up adopting a small army of children

Deflects their traumatic experiences with jokes

Has that one female best friend that is definitely a lesbian (wwx and Wen Qing, Izuku and Ochako, and Dean and Charlie)

"Oh my God, (Cas, Lan Zhan, Shouto)! You can't just say things like that!"

They are the caretakers, the protectors, but they so rarely let themselves be cared for by others. Their respective love interests are some of the few people they feel comfortable being truly vulnerable with and will let take care of them

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms™

In particular, I noticed a lot of uncanny similarities between Wangxian and Destiel specifically, especially in the themes and arcs that exist in both the couples and the individuals

[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later -- Part IV

Summary: Invert frees her new ally from her life pod, only to learn just how a w f u l she is. Their alliance proves in trouble with the arrival of an Autobot.

Features the adorable oc of Starburst, provided by @callsign-relic! Check her and her stuff out sometime!

Prior chapter is here, start and explanation of six cycles later is here. Next chapter is here.

Word count: 5046

trigger warnings: robot racism, some gore, some self harm

Fic below cut!

“LET ME OUT!”

At the sound of the voice her spark leaped in its chamber. Invert grinned despite her prior grievances, the swamp and all of its horrors left behind. Though no one could see it, she raised an arm and waved. 

“I’m here! I hear you! I’m coming! Hold on!”

Water splashed around her pedes as she practically sprinted for the ship, concerns of an Autobot ambush cast aside as its dark entrance yawned. The buzzing grew in volume as she closed the distance, and though she was loath to fully disable her audials, she found she had no choice. Her helm was threatening to split from noise alone.

Whoever was in this ship had to be strong, she could feel it. She ran over her options again: Bombshell, Shrapnel, Kickback. Which had she decided was the most useful? Oh, whoever, she didn’t really care! Well, maybe she did a little, but truly, she’d be grateful just to have another ‘con around. Someone who was on her side. Someone who she could plan with and fight by. Even if they were, according to the data pack, a bit hard to get along with.

Oh well. She would top the pecking order in no time. They didn’t know what she was capable of, and they’d learn fast to respect her. 

The interior of the ship was larger than it seemed from the outside, as most Decepticon ships tended to be. The floor before her was completely underwater, its silver squares smothered by a thick layer of dark organic grime. The walls were colored purple, though their paint had long stripped. Water stains alongside long white streaks of organic substance decorated her surroundings. On the far right, where the front of the ship rested comfortably, the bridge sat in ruin. 

If she was a bit more concerned about escaping the planet, perhaps she would have been distressed by that fact. But Invert couldn’t have cared less at the moment, for her optics were focused on the barely glowing sign hanging above a broken door across from her. The Insecticon ship was small, with only a bridge, a large main area, and a side compartment for the med bay. Under most circumstances, that compartment was sealed, but the presence of the entrance told her all she needed to know about where to find her future friend. 

She left the bridge and the main area behind, taking a step down into the cramped quarters of the med bay. And there, bundled against the wall like a clutch of eggs, sat five stasis pods. 

Three were open. One was dark. And the last one—

It looked like it had been almost destroyed.

The metal was warped and bulged outwards. The glass was cracked and shards of it sparkled beneath the stagnant water. Deep gouges tore up the walls beside the pod. She could see scuff marks on the floor and what looked like burns on the ceiling. The display on the pod was glitching and barely functional, showcasing error codes and a single life signal. 

She furrowed her optical ridges, wondering just what had happened here to incur such damage. 

Well, it was of no major significance to her. Whatever had happened here had passed, and all it had left behind was an Insecticon soldier ready to burst forth and support his cause. Her audials indicated that the source of the buzzing, and logically, the screaming, was the pod. In fact…as she stepped closer, they displayed warnings: the sound being produced would cause damage if listened to at such range, even with muted audials, for elongated periods of time. 

He was strong. Sound based powers? She was reminded of Soundwave and his cassettes. Would this Insecticon also have something similar, then? But how would he–

Nope, not even thinking of it. That was gross organic stuff. She needed to focus on anything but the fact he was mimicking a filthy organic. Yes, all she needed to focus on was releasing him from the pod. 

Approaching it, she took additional note of the severe damage to the door–its seal was incomplete, which possibly indicated stasis failure. The dents on its middle pushed out in the molded shapes of angry fists. On the sides she could see the groove of hands where it had been gripped with enough force to bend in both ways. 

Claw marks on the wall, punches on the door, warping on the edges. Invert wasn’t stupid. Whoever—or whatever—had been forced into this pod had only done so after fighting for his life. 

Why?

She couldn’t see very well inside—though the shape of the Insecticon’s head was discernible, a layer of moisture had formed inside, obscuring his details from her sight. Was he battle damaged? Had he been frozen inside screaming?

Was that why the pod was buzzing so loudly?

She had no answers yet, but she could certainly assume that he was probably rusting in there, with all that water. She didn’t know his story in the slightest, or why he hadn’t been with the other Insecticons, but considering her circumstances, she didn’t have many options besides opening his pod. If she trusted her preservation instincts, which told her this was a terrible idea, she left behind her only potential ally left on this planet. Whatever circumstances had seen him trapped in his stasis pod were likely behind him. She’d just have to trust that he wasn’t as violent as the area around him seemed to indicate. 

Besides. Insecticons were unsavory on their best days, completely uncooperative on their worst. She was probably seeing the results of a spat between the four, soon to be three. 

Three. They’d really trapped one of their brethren in their ship and abandoned him for years. 

Scowling, Invert tapped the broken screen, trying to see if she could convince it to initiate release. 

It gave no such indication. She tapped again, trying to pull up any kind of menu. Besides more error messages, the screen gave no further function. 

“Come on!” She said aloud, giving the pod a kick. 

Whatever was inside reacted. She saw the head turn towards her. The sensation of optics locking onto her form creeped up her back.  

Invert’s spark tightened from both fear and excitement. Oh. He was awake. That meant…oh. That was why he’d been able to make the noise. He had been frozen screaming. The faulty seal had likely forced his body into stasis, but not his mind. 

LET ME O U T 

Her audials indicated they’d picked up on words. She ex-vented through her dentae. 

“Uh, hi!” She said, waving a hand. “Um, I’m Invert. I got your distress call! I’m here to get you out.”

The Insecticon did not move. 

“I’ll, uh, get on that, then. Do you have any idea how to open this pod? Any recommendations or tips? I’ve never been in this ship, so…”

Nothing. 

“Right, on my own again, gotcha.” She turned away and rolled her optics. 

Okay, if the pod didn’t want to behave because it was broken, she could force it. Grabbing the bent edge of the door, she planted a pede against the wall and pulled with all her might. Her joints creaked in protest, but the door didn’t budge in the slightest. 

Frowning, she searched around for a tool, coming back with a metal pipe found submerged at the back of the ship. Jamming it between the door and the pod’s edges, she braced herself against the wall and tried to forcibly pry the door open–only for the pipe to snap and fly across the room. 

Invert cursed and retrieved the blaster she’d brought with herself, pointing it at the seal. A purple glow illuminated the dark ship as she fired several blasts in, succeeding in adding more sear marks, but not breaking or melting the metal in the slightest. 

The door wasn’t budging. She scowled. Looking at the glass, she could see the Insecticon watching her, probably thinking about how pathetically this mass-produced, one-trick Seeker was failing to perform a single task.

Well, she’d damn well show him. Brute force wasn’t her style anyways. She had one trick that was sure to work, and prove that she was worth keeping around–and respecting. 

Oh, he’d damn well respect her, if he was already thinking so negatively about her. 

For Invert had a special ability, one that had kept her around despite how often she’d heard other ‘cons whispering about having her deactivated. It might be an ability that was difficult to use, incredibly dangerous on her best days, and ran the chance of killing her every time she used it, but it was hers. It set her apart from her Seeker brethren. It made her special. 

It made her worth keeping around. 

She stepped back from the pod and smirked. So far she’d only used her ability on other Cybertronians, but she saw no reason it wouldn’t work on their technology as well. It wasn’t like she’d been given time or items to test it on, when resources had already been so slim on Earth. This could serve as a beta test for it, probably. Though, she had to wonder…would it damage the Insecticon inside?

…Once again, she didn’t know. Didn’t really matter, probably–it would be the start of their pecking order. Her on the top, him keeping a distance at all times. 

“Hey, Insecticon?” She said, “I’m going to try and get you out. There might be some sparks, so try not to panic!” 

The Insecticon in the pod did not respond to her words or her movements. His head remained turned towards her. She could feel optics locking onto her, sizing up. Trying equally to determine if she was one to be kicked around.

The buzzing had stopped, her audials indicated. In its absence, the silence hung like the organic slime outside.

“Well, alright then.”

To use her ability, she’d have to mess with her T-Cog. It was always easier said than done. Her T-Cog was located in her side, as it was with all Seekers. All she had to do was plunge her servos through her plating and manually crank it. The plating on her side was intentionally thinner for this purpose, meaning any old blaster could deactivate her with a proper shot. And whether it was blaster fire or servos, thin plating did not change the fact that, no matter how her ability was activated, it would hurt.

Easier said than done. Always easier said than done. But she couldn’t show weakness now. They didn’t even know one another’s name, but the pecking had already begun, and she was not about to be on the bottom. 

Invert hovered her servos over her side, ex-venting again. She hadn’t used her ability since before the attack on Autobot City. Only once had she been deployed, during a particularly nasty clash with the Autobots. ‘All soldiers on the field’ had been the order. She’d eagerly flown (tumbled) out with her fellow Seekers, and landed (crashed) straight in the thick of it. With guns pointed at her from all angles and her Seeker brethren flying overhead, ignoring her plight as she floundered amongst a group of Autobots, it wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice. 

They’d paid her more attention after everyone in a hundred foot radius hit the ground–the extent of it had been Starscream demanding why she hadn’t remained in formation and helped with the Aerialbots. She hadn’t been stable enough to properly respond, and when she tried to her voice shrieked with static. 

She didn’t remember who won that day. All she remembered was being dragged back, repaired, and left to work only in the base, since. 

Well. She wasn’t in the base anymore, and their situation demanded nothing less of her than all she had. Which meant her ability as well. 

Frag the pain. Pain made stronger soldiers. She’d be one worth respecting and keeping around no matter what. She’d grit through it like she’d grit through everything else, including flying to this damn place, drinking organics–her tank still felt like it was about to purge–and tolerating humans. Invert ex-vented one more time and held it. 

Then she punched her fist through her side and released it all in a shriek of agony. No, a war cry. It was a damn war cry and she did not feel like she was about to collapse and sob. 

Her servos found her T-Cog in a second. They immediately turned it in the wrong direction, straining her wiring and sending a jolt of pain through her. Her HUD glitched, displaying several warnings about internal damage. Then her audials shut down completely, followed by her optics, as her body tried and failed to change its shape. 

For a second she was left in the void that was never-ending, frame wracking agony. Was she still screaming? She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t feel her throat. She couldn’t feel her voice. 

Her optics onlined. No, she was still in the ship, and her faceplate was contorted from crying out, and her surroundings–

Oh, she recognized glitching when she saw it. 

The field that had formed around her, invisible and just as deadly as radiation, had already taken effect on everything powered within it. She was frozen with pain, but her frame was still standing. The same could not be said of the pod–or its occupant.

The screen had completely scrambled, error messages becoming illegible binary code. The life signal had become erratic, beating too much, beating too little, not beating at all, activating emergency stasis, disabling it. The glow fizzled, flashed, and went out as the wires within the pod gave out, unable to support itself anymore. The head she could just barely see jerked back, snapped to the side. 

The shrieking was back. Was it her own, or his? 

The pain was becoming too much. She couldn’t hold it for much longer. Her entire vision was red, the sight of the ship lost. Energy seemed to crackle around her servos, numbing her entire arm. Was she still gripping her T Cog? If she moved her arm, she certainly wouldn’t be. The numbness was spreading, blooming out from the source of her T-Cog and spreading up her arm like the stillness of death. But she held on. 

And it paid off. 

The screen on the pod fizzled out. Invert tore her arm free just as the numbness hit her shoulder, staggering against the wall and leaning on it for support. Her frame felt cold despite the 98F heat reading her temperature display indicated. How long had she been holding her ability up? She tried to check her internal timer, focusing on maintaining her venting and balance. 

Twelve seconds. She felt ready to purge. 

The groan of metal drew her attention back to the pod. In the low light, she could make out three massive, jointed claws closing around the bent edge, their deadly sharp tips already forming punctures in the metal. Her audials notified her of growling. 

Then the pod door burst like it was not a mech it contained but a bomb. In a stroke of luck, as the door hurled past her and embedded clean into the opposing wall, it missed Invert by a few inches, saving her from an untimely end at the awakening of her new ally. 

Or perhaps saving wasn’t the right word for it. For as the bot inside rose up, towering over her by almost half her height, a sinking feeling in the pit of her tank told her that perhaps the door knocking her helm off might have been mercy compared to whatever his intentions might be. 

He was absolutely massive. She’d seen the combiners, the great Omega Supreme, even Astrotrain in his spaceship mode, and she still wasn’t quite prepared for how large he was. His frame took up the entirety of the room as he wrenched himself free from the pod, tearing pieces of it free as he did so. 

The Insecticon’s visor lit up, illuminating his face with an ominous red light. What looked like three needle-like proboscises were folded atop his mask, which reminded her just enough of Soundwave’s to tell her that maybe she should have tried to size up her ally before attempting to establish pecking order. Bulky antennae uncurled and shifted. His large claws opened and shut as he cracked his neck, optics locking onto her vulnerable form as he took a step forward. 

She didn’t have the energy to react as his claws shot to her throat, raising her off the ground like she weighed nothing. The numbness in her body eased whatever pain she might have felt from it, but her HUD swarmed with danger notifications, and not just from the structural damage her frame had sustained. With a single click of his claws, the Insecticon could decapitate her. 

Instead he twisted and hurled her with enough force to punch through the ship, splattering her against the opposite wall in the main area. Her HUD glitched, momentarily offlined, and returned with a staunch warning: emergency stasis would soon set in. Invert fought against it, standing on shaky legs as the numbness promptly consumed one, causing her to stagger. 

And yet despite the fact that half of her body was cold and she could see graying on her right servos, she held on.

She would not die here. Her left arm was still functional. As the Insecticon tore apart the threshold of what to him was a tiny door, she retrieved her blaster and pointed it straight for his helm. Metal shrieked as the Insecticon ripped his way free of the stasis room, optics locking onto her. 

He was glaring at her. She returned the look, feeling Energon leaking from her optics. 

“Take…another…step…” she garbled out, spitting pink into the water, “and I…shoot…your head…off.” 

He cocked his helm back, looking down at her over the bridge of his mask. His chassis rose and fell a few times with what seemed like laughter. And then he held his claws out, spreading them in a provocative gesture. Do it. He was daring her. 

She gripped the blaster tighter, willing with all her might to move her numb right arm. Electricity was crackling through her systems, replacing that numbness with uncomfortable tingling. 

“Don’t you mock me,” she crackled. 

He held his gaze on her, and it took her a moment to realize that her audials were alerting her to noise. With a mask covering his face and a thousand danger notifications to keep note of, she hadn’t even thought about turning them back on. Digging the command prompt out of the sea of pop-ups, she promptly reactivated them at 50% capacity. Even with her best efforts, the audio came in slightly distorted.

“...--en, you weak little plane.” His voice was low and accented. “See where that gets you.” 

“What?”

“Do it, then,” he snarled. “How many times do I have to say it before you get it through your tiny little processor?”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged, trying to straighten up as much as she could while only having one functional leg. “What are you going to do, rip my spark out?” 

“Are you giving me ideas?” 

“You think you’ll have the brain left to process them?” “You think you’ve got the firepower to drop me in one shot?” He leaned forward, a smirk all but plastered on his masked face. “Because I think I recognize a standard issue Seeker class blaster when I see one.”

Frag. She kept the blaster pointed at his helm, but the fact of the matter was she held no power in this situation. Injured, numb, and significantly smaller than her foe, she was touting a blaster that only had potential to kill in extremely close quarters, and only against light armor. 

Her foe easily towered over her and was heavy armor class just from a glance. Even a blast to the face would likely be just a singe to him. Unless she could aim exactly into his optic or intake, she had no chance of sending a fatal bolt to his spark or processor. 

She had no power here, and he knew it. All he was doing was teasing her. 

“Now…” His voice picked up in its distinct growl. “Where are they, Seeker?” 

One heavy pede stepped forward. She vented sharply. 

“Who are ‘they’? The other Decepticons? Wait, the other Inse–”

He jammed his claws into the wall beside her, shredding it like paper. A trickle of cold ran down her back as she was pinned between his massive chassis and the panels.

“The others. Shrapnel. Kickback. Bombshell.” 

This close, she could make out the intensity of his optics behind his visor. He looked like he could be the face of a war poster. One of his proboscises unfurled, scraping against her faceplate and leaving a scar. 

Yep, she was going to purge. 

“They-they’re–!” 

And then she did, right onto his chassis. Pink energon combined with the sludge of the indigestible organics she had consumed. She coughed several times, optics momentarily offlining with each hack. 

Sharp claws moved right to her throat, accompanied by a low buzz. Oh, there it was. Maybe he only made it when he was pissed. 

“They’re…dead,” she finally said, glowering at him. “Everyone is.” 

Did she necessarily believe it? Maybe. Did she want to admit it, speak it aloud? Absolutely not.

And for forcing her to say it, she hated him, she decided. 

He didn’t relent for a moment as they held each other's gaze. The amount of vitriol contained within his own could strip plating. She tried to load the same hatred into her own.

Metal shrieked as the Insecticon tore his claws free of the wall, venting in disgust as he turned away from her. She pulled herself off the wall, stumbling as her right leg gave out again. 

“Your processor is half-melted,” he said dismissively, heading for the open side of the ship. “Who even are you? The Decepticon ranks don’t need broken weaklings who lie to save their plating.” 

A fire lit in her tank at the words, and she snapped. “Weakling!? I flew all the way here from the last Decepticon stronghold on this planet just to answer your SOS signal! I risked my aft to get you out of your stasis pod! We’re currently so deep in Autobot turf that at any moment, we could be ambushed, and that’d be the end of the cause!” Sparks crackled from her side as she yelled. “And you’re calling me weak!?”

He didn’t even look at her. “Yes, I am, little Seeker. Crossing the planet to engage in a suicide mission doesn’t make you brave or strong. It makes you incredibly stupid. But I suppose you Seekers have never been renowned for your intelligence.”

She didn’t really think about her next action, which saw her raise her blaster and shoot a bolt straight into his side. A puff of smoke rose as the energy singed his segmented plating. The Insecticon glared down at the tiny insult, then at her. 

“See? There’s your proof, dead metallico.” 

And he lunged. 

Well, if she was dying, she was taking him with her. Invert abandoned her blaster and jammed her servos into her side, the burning, agonizing pain only fueling her rage. The action made him pause right before his claws would collide with her helm, deadly sharp spikes halting mere inches from it. 

She smirked. “What’s wrong, Insecticon? Scared of a weakling Seeker?”

He didn’t get the chance to answer. They both heard the sound of an engine, followed by the crack of a jet shooting by overhead. The Insecticon’s head immediately turned to the entrance of the ship. 

Autobots. They didn’t need to say it aloud to both understand. Every Decepticon knew the sound of a Seeker’s engines and the roar they emitted when they flew low over the ground. This sounded nothing like that. 

He was off her in a second. Instinctively she fell in place behind him, keeping her servos over her T-Cog. Glancing out together, they both saw nothing in the sky–yet. 

“Take to the skies,” the Insecticon ordered. “I’ll handle whatever ground troops have arrived.” 

She grimaced, sucking an ex-vent in through her dentae. “Uh. So. About that.”

The roar sounded again, and this time they both saw the blur of what looked like a tiny rocket. The Insecticon’s antennae perked right up. Invert raised an optical ridge. 

“It’s small. A scout,” she whispered. “They don’t know we’re here yet, probably. If we can stay hidden, he might leave.”

“Hidden?” The Insecticon scoffed. “It’s one scout. I have done enough hiding in that damnable pod. I don’t care what’s wrong with you, Seeker. Get in the sky and kill him.”

“I–”

Before she could say another word the Insecticon grabbed her and charged out, roaring as he threw her into the air. She yelled, tumbling through the sky as her body instinctively tried to take its alt mode, failed, and crashed into the trees. 

“Are you KIDDING me!?” She heard echo from below before hitting her helm on a tree and momentarily losing consciousness. 

“Hey, Decepticon!” Another voice. This one sounded like it belonged to a ‘bot who was widely regarded as annoying. So, basically, any Autobot under the sun. “You’re supposed to aim at your enemy, not the sky! And since when do Seekers count as bullets?”

“GET DOWN HERE!”

“Not on ya’ life, ugly!” 

Invert groaned, peeling herself free as the sound of blaster fire rang out from nearby. Just one Autobot scout, and they were both already threatened with the possibility of termination. She needed to do something about this all. They needed to regroup back at Victory, and they needed this Autobot scout silenced. 

For one meant many–he’d probably contacted his allies the moment he saw them. 

With a bit of effort she extricated herself from the tree, splashing down onto the cage below it. The water began to turn pink as she pulled herself up. Her blaster was gone, which might have inspired her to use her rifle, except…

How could she even hope to transform it with one functional arm? Let alone try aiming it with so much crowding her HUD?

The sound of nearby blaster fire grew louder. Splashing was followed by hissing. Metal creaked and shrieked, and then she saw a frisbee of shrapnel fly through the air, missing the tiny rocket as he wheeled up and did a twirl, promptly transforming in the air just to gloat.

He really was tiny. His faceplate was gray, his plating a light orange. Blasters were mounted on his arms, which he crossed as he smirked down at the Insecticon. 

“Ya aim needs work, buggy!” And turning back, he promptly activated his boosters and shot just overhead, circling around to unleash another barrage. 

He was fast. No way the Insecticon managed to hit him with a piece of shrapnel. As he tore another piece free of the ship, Invert pulled herself up on her knees, bracing against a nearby tree. Even if they both had blasters, as long as the rocket stayed in the air, neither of them could hit him. 

As if he even cared about her. Busy toying with the giant Insecticon, the scout had already counted her out of his game. What was a broken Seeker thrown around as ammo going to do to a speedster like him?

Idiot. Did everyone think she was useless because she couldn’t fly? Because she was never deployed? Because the thing that made her useful almost killed her? Because she…

Because she would show him, damn it all. Experimental or not, her body was her weapon. Kneeling in the muddy warm, gradually growing pinker from the Energon leaking out of her side, and ignoring the constant warnings pinging in her HUD, Invert gripped her T-Cog tighter. Peering through the trees, she traced the Autobot’s swift movements, waiting for him to dive just a bit closer.

The Insecticon would suffer from this as well. She really didn’t care. He damn deserved it. 

Another metal shriek sounded through the air, followed by more taunting from the Autobot. 

“Alright, I’m getting tired’a this, ‘con. Tell ya what, surrender now, and the great Starburst will put in a good word for ya when my buds arrive, yeah? No need ta’ draw this cybercat and glitchmouse game out anymore!” 

“Get down here and we’ll see how much longer it’s drawn out,” the Insecticon warned. Starburst chortled and promptly took off again, circling and dodging branches as they were hurled for him. 

A sound like a squeal of pain escaped her, which was just as quickly silenced by biting her glossa . Focus, despite how the pain was radiating up her side. Focus, despite how many warnings were flashing in her HUD. Focus, despite how her processor was threatening to offline at any moment. 

An orange and cream blur. The pink of blaster fire. Dark of a leaf. Between the trees. The blue of the sky. Everything was starting to blur. Circling, he was circling. Which meant if she waited till he came just a bit closer, to the spot where the leaves parted and the branches formed the shape of a X– 

She practically ripped her T-Cog out of its socket cranking it to the side. One second the flash of orange was in her sights. The next the crackling of static overcame her vision and consumed her HUD. 

She heard screaming from two voices. They sounded like they were in agony. 

Good. Feel my pain.

As she thought it her body slumped and hit the ground alongside two other splashes. Water covered her optics, blurring her vision as it tried to online, turned to nothing but red, and gave up. A single message flashed several times.

ENERGON LEVELS CRITICAL. INITIATING EMERGENCY STASIS. 

Was this really it? In the heart of the Demon Swamp? She’d always thought she’d go out on Cybertron again, and that it’d be just like the first time, buried in all that rubble. 

It had been lonely. At least here, she had company. Enemies, for sure, but company. They’d all offline together. 

And then she was out. 

[cvbullshit]

The official Deonie character sheet and facts post!

Deonie Clown | Species: Monster(Skeleton) - Demon

Age: Unknown

Gender/Pronouns: Demiboy - He/They/It

Category: Unknown / Original Character / Sans AU / Shipchild

Parents: Dust, Geno, G (Main) / Mad, Blue / Nightmare, Verse / Murder (Mother-Father figure)

Siblings: Placid, Cassie, Shard, Slash / Dicilind, Delirium, NA Evan, NA Elizabeth / Gabirel, Susie, Fritz, Jeremy (Sibling figures)

Partners: Crust / Ennard

Children: Error / Ora / Asmodeus / RoboFizz / Agatha / Tommy / Ink / Fresh / Enna / Cassidy / Katie / The Nowhere King

Other Family: Classic (Uncle) / Dream (Uncle) / Chara (Aunt Figure) / Papyrus (Uncle Figure) / Echo (Aunt Figure) / Aliza, SwaD, Flower (Children in law) / Anti-Error (Use to be parent) / Monika (Grandma figure?) / Swap Pap (Uncle figure) / Springtrap, Sun, Moon (Children in law) / Fizz (Child in law) / Killer (Child in law?) / Others

Origins:

Deonie use to be a half human half demon, having their biological father being human and their biological mother being demon in some way. It is unclear what kind of a demon they are. Deonie had met Ora and gained a friendship, Ora showing Deonie to the worlds of AUs along with other worlds she had access to. Deonie and Ora were the ones to first suggest a truce between Sanses and others before THE CURSE began. As time went on, Deonie proceeded to make a family by adopting different people, it soon turned into a full on family as they gained parent figures/adopted parents and their partners Crust Sans and Ennard. Their current main parents are Dust Sans, Geno Sans, and Echotale/G Sans. They had slowly began to change themselves to fit how they felt on the inside, their urge for matching their parents grew strong enough for them to make the bold decision of changing their code to replace their human half with monster-skeleton half. Since then, they had viewed their past self/human self as a parasite that was never them.

It is unsure if Deonie could be counted as a Sans AU, ship child, or neither. It doesn't matter to them what they are labeled as.

Facts:

-Deonie heavily wants to make Dust proud

-Their favorite food is Kinder Beunos

-They have Age Regression

-They have multiple forms, their main alternate form being a shadowy figure with a fiery orange face.

-They have fire magic but barely use it unless needed

-They have an adopting problem/find the strangest things cute or adorable

-Their age is more of based on an individual's viewpoint, however they have no exact age

-They use to drink, still sometimes picks up alcohol when they can get away with it but rarely

-They have no biological children of their own

-Don't be fooled, they may act cute, but they are just as dangerous as a lot of the common "Bad Sanses", they use their cuteness to their advantage

-They have a one-sided(?) frenemy relationship with Mel

-They can shrink and grow to many sizes

-Due to their type of demon, they can act like an animal at times, specifically like ferrets, domesticated rats, dogs, cats, and foxes.