#m.u

[tinta-y-cometas]

Nos preocupa tanto el futuro, que no disfrutamos llegar a el.

-Mel

[phoenixthefurb]

OUTDATED DESIGN!!!!

Name : Muse / M. U

Pronouns : She/her

Age :?????

She doesn't have much of a backstory other than that she loves music, speaks robot like - almost like a synthesizer and that she has some cool powers as described in her image. She likes hanging around abandoned malls, abandoned clubs and abandoned subways. She loves late 2000s early 2010s fashion and always dresses for the occasion. Although not too talkative she's the life of the party and loves to dance. Her favorite colors are neon colors.

[muntitled]

NAMGYU NATION WAKE TF UPPPP HUSBAND JUST POSTED

Everyone's say thank you Mpho's husband for posting

[n0rcor]

,,Make up..''

⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧♡⛧

[pctaldrunk]

head hurty but you should like this post for a starter from one of Ro's Obscure Internet Novel Muse Collection

[papatyaniinahi]

bir şiir düşünün;

yazılan her harfin parmak uçlarını yaktığı.

her harfte daha da alevlendiği.

sönmeye yaklaştıkça daha da derinleştiği.

bir gülüş düşünün;

sahteliğin her bir çizgiden okunduğu.

gözlerde arayış var anlamak için gerçekliği,

dudaklar kıvrılırken saçılan o ışığı.

ve bir son düşünün;

öylece savunmasız.

[roscvcins]

largely irrelevant but I still wanna PSA

there are dramas coming out of fandoms I picked up as novels: I will not be changing my fcs of the muses that I have from those medias.

[muntitled]

Farleigh fic incoming💤

“how’s the writing going?” i’m glad you asked! my room has never been cleaner and i’ve decided to take up baking

[muntitled]

I think i came

[jessiangravelblr]

Britney Spears - GIMME MORE - Choreography by Saarah Fernandez

[pctaldrunk]

ALL THAT IS TO SAY

jin miaoshu is a really pretty name and i'm never gonna use it bc it feels pretentious af to use ur courtesy name in any context other than ur forced to

[muntitled]

Girls idk if I can fix this one...

“i can fix him”

ok welcome to the construction crew

[roscvcins]

@wrathphoenix asked : ❝ i'm not going to stand here and argue with you about how much you need to get some rest. if i find you passed out on the floor i'm leaving you there. ❞ (F.eng X.in to M.u Q.ing)

A cool HUFF - he continues to write, barely sparing the other a sideways glance as he pours over the accounts scattered across the desk. "As if you were going to do ANYTHING ELSE. You had better leave me there." To those that knew him, the minute changes in his expression said, or I won't promise what might happen to your arms. Flicks the ink off his brush, rolling his wrist. " - If any of the REST of you lot paid attention to BASIC MATH, I wouldn't be here."

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: I like you, Ace.

Ace: ...

Ace: *blushes* I like you too, Prefect.

MC: Does that mean we're M.U. now?

Ace: ...

Ace: Eh?

Cater: *laughing*

Riddle: Cater.

Ace: ...

Cater: You got love but no label!

Ace: *pouts*

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 - 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader | Sinister!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: Violence, abuse, language

Genres: Angst with an inkling of romance and hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2,489

Synopsis: You’ve been in a relationship with Sinister!Mark for years, coming with him from his original universe into the main timeline along with all the other variants. Since coming to this universe however the dynamics of your relationship have changed, Sinister!Mark becoming more distant and cruel, not showing you any form of affection or appreciation outside of rough sex. Mohawk!Mark was in love with the you from his own universe, but in his timeline you died as a casualty of war (a similar fate to the you from the main timeline). Now that he sees you again in this new, main universe he’s captured by you but also unsure of how to handle things since you are with Sinister. After catching Sinister with two other women, you call Mohawk Mark for some form of comfort. The comfort turns to sex and Sinister Mark finds you two the next morning.

a/n: when i started this series i was imagining it to be ending by part seven but it seems like there’s still some story left to tell, hope y’all don’t mind if i just keep cooking 😶

ALSO M.U. Mark is referring to Main Universe Mark and as a reminder M.Mark is Mohawk Mark while S.Mark is Sinister

→ Part Seven ←

S.Mark's steps were heavy as he approached your house. His mind had been a whirlwind ever since he left that club with those two women, but there was no way he could focus on any of that right now. No, the one thing consuming his thoughts was you.

He had tried to call, sent texts, but you hadn’t answered. The silence on the other end of his messages had gnawed at him more than he'd care to admit.

He stood on the porch for a moment, fingers flexing around the door handle. There was an unfamiliar stillness in the air, and something felt... off. His instincts were telling him to be cautious, but he shook it off and knocked sharply at the door. No answer. He knocked again, louder this time, a slight frustration building in his chest. Where were you? Why wasn't the door opening?

In frustration he gripped the knob harder, twisting it until it broke and the door swung gentle open.

His eyes scanned the dimly lit interior. The mess was immediate—empty wine glasses scattered across the floor, discarded clothes tossed carelessly across the furniture. His brow furrowed, and his pulse quickened. This wasn’t like you. You were always tidy, always put together. The place was in complete disarray.

He entered slowly, the tension in his body palpable as he stepped further into the living room. He could smell the faint odor of alcohol in the air, a sign of the way you had likely spent your night. But where were you?

He stepped deeper into the house, following a trail of discarded things as his senses began to sharpen. He could hear the faint thrum of two heartbeats, distinct and steady, echoing from the direction of your bedroom. His muscles tensed.

He didn’t need to think twice. He was already halfway down the hallway before he even realized what he was doing. His heart hammered in his chest, a primal instinct kicking in as he reached the door.

Without warning, he pushed it open.

And there you were.

You were asleep in the bed, but you weren’t alone. Another man—another man—was curled beside you, tangled in the sheets, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. S.Mark’s blood ran cold.

A growl of disbelief escaped his lips. His eyes locked on the mass of a body hidden beneath the covers as he felt a wave of rage flood over him, sharp and searing.

The anger roared inside him. How fucking dare you?

Sinister Mark’s breath came out in a low hiss as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His pulse pounded in his ears. What the hell was this?

You stirred just then, your body shifting beneath the sheets, and S.Mark’s eyes snapped back to you. He saw your face, peaceful in sleep, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside him. His gaze flicked back to the man—the intruder—and that was when it happened. The rage surged, taking control. He didn’t think, he just acted.

S.Mark crossed the room in a flash, yanking the man up by the throat and slamming him against the wall. He stood frozen for a moment, his chest tightening as he realized who the other man was: M.Mark. That motherfucker. The one who always seemed to just be around, lingering in the shadows of your life. And now here he was, in your FUCKING bed, with you.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in my bed?" he growled, the words dripping with fury as his hand tightened around M.Mark's throat.

M.Mark, his eyes still clouded with sleep and confusion, swung a punch, hitting S.Mark’s ribs. The blow didn’t do much, but it was enough to snap him out of his bloodlust for a second.

“Get off me!” M.Mark grunted, gripping onto S.Mark’s wrist so tightly it was a miracle it wasn’t crushed.

The fight erupted in an instant. S.Mark snapped back into motion, launching a vicious punch towards his face but M.Mark was too quick, ducking low and using the momentum to push him back.

You jolted awake at the sound of the crash, your heart racing in your chest. You blinked, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding before your eyes. The room was spinning.

“Stop it!” you screamed, pushing yourself out of the bed, your legs weak beneath you. But your voice was lost in the storm of fists and curses. You watched in horror as they collided again, throwing each other against walls and furniture.

S.Mark's eyes were wild, his gaze never leaving M.Mark as he lunged again, narrowly missing his target. “You think you can take my place? You think you can just waltz in here like you fuckin’ own the place?!” His voice was low, menacing, filled with pure, unrelenting rage.

M.Mark gritted his teeth, wiping the blood from his lip, and lunged back, shoving S.Mark against the doorframe. “I’m not the one who left her crying!” he shot back, his voice full of accusation.

S.Mark growled, but he didn’t have time to respond before MMark shoved him again, sending him crashing to the ground.

You felt yourself trembling as the scene unfolded in front of you. The two men you cared about the most were fighting like animals, driven by a blind rage, and you had no idea how to make it stop.

“Please—stop!” you shouted again, your voice breaking as you stumbled toward them. Just as you came within touching distance S.Mark whipped around and, with no hesitation, knocked you back with a brutal swat of his arm.

You crashed onto the bed with a sickening thud, your head spinning and your breath stolen from your lungs. You gasped for air, trying to recover, but the pain hit too fast. Your body felt like it was made of glass, shattering under the weight of everything happening around you.

S.Mark didn’t even look at you as he turned back to his counterpart. But the sight of you on the bed—hurting, helpless—seemed to snap something inside M.Mark. A primal fire ignited in his eyes, overwhelmed with a guttural rage.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” M.Mark roared as launched himself at S.Mark, the room shaking under their impact. Their fists collided in total brutality, the air splitting and collapsing back in on itself from the force. They were no longer just fighting—they were fighting for their pride, for you, for everything. They had crossed the line. This wasn’t just a fight; it was an all-out war.

S.Mark’s fury was unbridled. He fought with the same wild determination that had pushed him to tear down everything in his path in his own universe. But M.Mark was every bit his equal—stronger than he’d ever expected, with a rage that seemed to rival his own.

The room was a blur of movement. Punches, kicks, bodies crashing into furniture, each strike sending shockwaves through the walls. The fight was a hurricane of violence, with no sign of slowing down.

You tried to push yourself up, but your body refused to obey, your limbs heavy and useless as you watched them tear each other apart. Your heart shattered as you realized: this was all your fault.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like hours, a never-ending torrent of rage and violence crashing down around you. But it was more likely only a few minutes—minutes that felt like a lifetime. Every sound, every crash, every grunt of pain hit you like a drum, each beat reverberating through your chest. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, not even as your heart pounded in your ears.

S.Mark and M.Mark were no longer just two men fighting. They were forces of nature, clashing like gods. Their rage had taken on a life of its own, and you could do nothing to stop it. You could barely think straight. The pain, the anger, the chaos, it all swirled around you like a whirlpool pulling you deeper. You couldn’t make sense of it. All you could do was watch in horror.

Then, in the midst of it all, you heard it. A voice—familiar but calm—cut through the chaos.

“Enough!”

It was this universe’s Mark. The moment he spoke, everything seemed to freeze. The air went still.

Before S.Mark or M.Mark could even process what was happening, Omni-Mark was there too—faster than either of them could react. He moved with precision, grabbing S.Mark by the arms and pulling him back, restraining him with an iron grip. S.Mark snarled, thrashing against his hold, but Omni-Mark was unyielding.

“Stay down,” Omni-Mark said, his voice low but commanding. He was a force of calm in the storm, and it was enough to get S.Mark to stop resisting—at least for the moment.

Simultaneously, Lensless Mark appeared, swift and almost seeming thrilled by it all. He was on M.Mark in a blink, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him away from the fray. M.Mark was still seething, his fists clenched and eyes blazing with fury, but Lensless Mark’s grip was like iron. He didn't give him an inch.

“Damn dude! I didn’t think you’d do all this,” Lensless Mark laughed, but his hold on his counterpart still unwavering.

The room fell into a tense silence. The fighting had stopped, but the air still buzzed with the aftermath. Your heart was pounding, your whole body shaking from the adrenaline and the fear of what you’d just witnessed. You felt a weight in your chest, an overwhelming sense of guilt and sorrow that pressed down on you. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know how to make sense of any of it.

It was then that this universe’s Mark seemed to notice you, his eyes softening the moment they locked with yours. And despite the chaos around him, he moved toward you with a grace that was all his own. He kneeled beside you, his hand reaching out, fingers brushing over your trembling arm. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at anyone right now. You felt too broken. Too responsible. This was all your fault.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracked and small. “I didn’t mean for this. I never wanted this to happen... It’s all my fault.”

M.U. Mark’s eyes softened with understanding as he leaned closer to you, his warm hand gently cupping your face. His touch was soothing, grounding, like a lifeline in the storm of your emotions.

“No, it’s not your fault,” he said firmly, his voice quiet but full of certainty. “None of this is on you.”

But the guilt kept gnawing at you. You couldn’t let go of it. You shook your head, trying to push him away, even as you felt the weight of his touch comfort you. “But I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve... done something before it got this far. I—”

M.U. Mark placed a finger gently over your lips, silencing your self-blame. “Shh. You don’t need to apologize.” His voice was calm, steady, like the eye of a storm. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

He pulled his hand away to place two fingers to his ear piece, his voice still steady despite the obvious turmoil in the room. “Cecil, we need medical attention here, immediately. She’s hurt.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, your breath hitching as you clutched at his sleeve. “Please,” you whimpered, “I never wanted any of this. I never wanted anyone to get hurt I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry….”

“Don’t apologize,” M.Mark interjected, his voice rough but his eyes filled with pain. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this. You don’t need to apologize for a damn thing.” Your stare darted to him, vision still blurred from the tears.

“I love you,” he said, his voice filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this.”

You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the sheer honesty of them sinking deep into you.

M.U. Mark gave a soft, understanding look toward M.Mark before turning his attention back to you. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze. "You just need to relax," he said softly, his voice calm but filled with warmth. "Everything’s going to be okay, I promise."

You felt like you were sinking under the weight of everything, looking at M.U. Mark who’s expression was gentle yet reassuring, trying to give you a kind of smile that said everything would be okay.

And then there was M.Mark. His eyes were filled with a desperation, a longing that made your heart ache. His expression was open, raw—he only wanted to hold you. You could see it in the way his hands twitched, the way his muscles tensed as he strained against Lensless Mark’s hold. He was fighting himself, fighting the urge to just rush to you, to make everything okay again. And it wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about possession. It was about love. True love.

Finally, you glanced toward S.Mark.

He stood across the room, his body stiff with rage, but his eyes weren’t on you. He wouldn’t even look at you. His entire focus was fixed on M.Mark, the sheer hate in his gaze making it clear—this was his world, his possession. You were just a prize, a thing to be controlled, to be owned.

And that’s when it hit you.

In this universe, you had an option. You could be loved. Truly loved. Not owned. Not controlled. Loved for who you were, for everything you were.

You looked back at M.Mark, and for the first time, you thought you understood what real love felt like. The kind of love that didn’t cage you. The kind of love that gave you freedom, the kind that made you feel whole instead of broken. His words, his actions—they spoke louder than anything S.Mark had ever done. It wasn’t about possession. It was about care. About wanting to be there for you, not trying to control you.

You met M.Mark’s gaze and felt something inside you click. You could feel the tenderness in his eyes, the sincerity that wrapped around you like a protective shield. This was what love was supposed to feel like.

M.U. Mark gave you another soft smile, but it was M.Mark’s gaze that anchored you. And as you looked back at S.Mark—his unyielding coldness, his refusal to acknowledge you—you knew, deep down, what your heart had been trying to tell you all along.

You didn’t have to settle for a love that didn’t let you breathe. You didn’t have to stay in a place that only saw you as an object.

For the first time, you felt free.

And it was terrifying. But it was also beautiful. And real.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

→ Part Nine ←

[vaos-studios]

Collection of warm up doodles with 2.0 Chip and Spruce I made recently! and a fish Chip. as a treat

I also have a confession to make: Treekiller is my favorite manager—bet you thought it was Dave or something but no it’s this weirdo (he needs more love please god I’d give anything I’d give ANYTHING

( long) Deadwood brothers info:

This is roughly what they looked like straight out the upgrade! The Mechanical Unit was instructed to hold Chip under observation for an extended period of time, as he was labeled dangerous due to the new Override. He came out a wreck—both physically and emotionally. There was oil and debris all over him (his hat took most of the damage) and was experiencing some side-effects from the operation. By the time Chip was released the other managers had already left. Except for Spruce, who had waited for him the entire time.

(The Mechanical Unit / M.U is the place holder name for the team responsible for performing the upgrade)

Spruce’s 2.0 upgrade includes sharper teeth and a built-in shredder! He was very hyped about this

He’s now the co-leader and main enforcer of the “Deforestation and Demolition Project” in Acorn Acres. He’s responsible for enforcing Chips orders and manages the project on-site.

His battle is located in Acorn Acres redwood forests, and is only accessible at night.

The Treekiller now operates on an RPM system! He gains significantly less RPM than Chip, but the more RPM he gains the more damage he takes. Part of Chip’s strategy is to prevent him from gaining too much RPM and triggering “Deadwood,” but in this case it’s the opposite. And if RPM reaches below a certain level, Treekiller’s version of Deadwood, named “Bury the Hatchet,” will trigger.

But I can’t help but notice he looks different than his first 2.0 reveal… 🤔 More info on Spruce 2.0 coming soon.

I may or may not have realized that I’m making Chip relive the worst thing that’s ever happened to him (which was not my intention believe it or not)

Chip actually rejected the upgrade at first, telling Robert in person that he did not want to proceed with this change. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his decision to make—or any of the managers’. Robert made it clear this was going to happen, whether Chip agreed to or not.

and promise I’m gonna get to the asks and mini 2.0 comic strips, it might get pushed back to next week however