#but one of them is very obviously AI voice AND one of the best voice actors in the game had a few AI voice lines put in

[dan-crimes]

I hate the creativity my dream mind has because I rarely have dreams and my dreams tend to be the most thought out creative things I've seen myself create just fully functioning game ideas or murder mystery type deals or just complex storylines or even just fully self indulgent crossovers with cartoon characters lmao and it makes me UPSET bcuz I can never think of that stuff while I'm AWAKE so I think my dreams are sucking up all my creativity

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE USUAL

A/N: i fell down a rabbithole of AI pics and this was inspired by those👀

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SUMMARY: It's a slow day at the diner, everyone is in a post-Christmas haze. However yours clears up when your favorite stranger shows up, smug as always but this time some nasty bruises are all over his handsome face.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The days after Christmas feel like you’re just floating through the void. Nothing feels real, you have no sense of time and it’s all a blur.

This year you’re working on the 27th, most of your colleagues have families so you wanted them to have an extra day at home. All that’s waiting for you at home is your leftover takeout, unfolded laundry and reruns of Home Alone. Working at least gets you out of your cave.

It’s always a slow day, the diner is almost entirely empty, only a few of the regulars are occupying their usual spots by the counter or in their booth. It’s just you and Molly, the college girl waiting tables, she was keen on escaping her family as soon as possible after the holidays, and then Jeff is back in the kitchen probably playing on his phone, because it’s so dead here. 

You like to keep yourself busy even when there’s nothing to do. Wipe down the tables, rearrange the shelves, get rid of old receipts from behind the counter. In a weird way this place feels like a second home, you’ve spent most of your time here the past three years, working 50 hours a week usually. Of course you like to keep it clean and organized. 

You’re watering the plants when you near the booth in the corner and you can’t help but think of who usually occupies it. You can see his signature smile in front of you, the way his eyes follow your every move, his smooth voice is ringing in your ears as he greets you. You know so many tiny details about him, yet you know he is just a stranger. You know his name, his order, you know how you get butterflies in your stomach every time the bell rings above the door and you see him walk in, but nothing more.

He is a mystery. A very handsome one, might you add.

It’s been weeks since the last time he wandered into the diner, but still, every time a tall curly haired man walks inside, for a split second you think it’s him, as if you’re expecting him to show up. 

A family of four comes in around five so at least you have a table to tend, they order hamburgers and pancakes and you listen to the kids rave about the gifts they got from Santa. 

Once they leave you clean up after them and grab the trash to take out. You’re mindlessly humming the song that was playing inside as you drag the bags out to the back where the containers are. The lighting is not the best out here, you’re usually cautious when you step out after sunset, but somehow you’re too caught up in your thoughts to look around this time. So when you throw one of the bags into the container and a tall figure steps closer from somewhere next to it, you jump with a squeak.

“Not even a proper scream, Darling? What if it was someone else?”

Harry, your mysterious stranger walks over to you with a charming smirk, his hands hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Shut up, why were you hiding there?!” you scold him with a hand on your chest as you wait for your pulse to slow down. 

“Was just having a cig, no hiding.”

“Why didn’t you come inside?”

“Mm, I think I need the cold air right now.”

It’s only now that you notice the nasty bruise on the side of his face. A curl is kind of covering it, but it’s noticeably there and very likely fresh. There’s a cut too, obviously bloody and it hasn’t been treated. 

“Harry…” you breathe out as you step closer and without hesitation, you reach up, brush his hair out of his face to see his wound. The pad of your finger touches the cut and his face flinches the tiniest bit before he moves his head away, the smug look back on his face.

“Nothing to worry about.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“And you’re worrying,” he cheekily replies.

“What happened?”

“Just a bit of a disagreement,” he shrugs his shoulders.

Your gaze moves down his arms subconsciously, because somehow, deep down you know that if someone did this to him, there’s no way he didn’t fight back. And if he did, then his hands…

He notices you staring at his hidden hands and with a defeated sigh he pulls them out, revealing his bruised knuckles. 

“Nothing to worry about?!” you snap as you take his right hand, running the pad of your thumb over the dark red, purple and almost black marks gently. 

“It’ll heal. Not my first rodeo.”

It was supposed to be a joke, you see the smirk on his face, but it just bubbles anxiety in the pit of your stomach, thinking of all the times he ended up beaten up before. You feel silly for caring so much, it shouldn’t matter, but you can’t help it. 

“Hey,” he says, seeing the look on your face, his voice now soft and tender as his bruised hand takes yours. “I’m fine, really. I didn’t mean to worry you, that’s why I didn’t go inside.”

“Then why did you come here?”

You look him in the eyes as he hesitates before answering.

“Wanted to see you. I saw you through the window and decided not to go inside. I was about to leave when you came out.”

He sounds honest and you’re not sure what to think of his words. He gets into a fight, comes here to see you but then doesn’t come inside so you don’t see his wounds. Why did he come here? Were you his first thought?

“Let me clean that cut up,” you then say, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach that are now very much awake. 

“No need, Darling. I’ll be fine–”

“I know you’re a big boy and you’ll be fine on your own, but let me do this one thing so I’ll worry less about you.”

His lips press together into a thin line before he finally nods. He lets go of your hand and grabs the other trash bag you dropped when he came out of the dark, he throws it into the container and gestures for you to go inside, he’ll be following you. 

It’s still just as dead inside as before, so no one notices when you bring him into the restroom that’s for the staff. He closes the toilet seat and sits on top, watching you snatch the first aid kit from under the sink. 

“How was Christmas?”

He asks while you grab everything you need from the kit and angle his head so you see the cut clearly. It looks worse in the light, but you swallow down your theories of how he got it and just start to clean it.

“Fine. Quiet.”

“No big family get together?”

“No family,” you correct him with a straight face and you see the surprise on his face. He stays quiet for a bit before speaking up again.

“You spent it alone?”

“Yeah.”

“What about friends?”

“Don’t have many. I’m usually working. I like my colleagues but we’re not close enough to spend Christmas together,” you explain with a shrug, gently tapping a cotton ball drenched in alcohol on the cut, earning a hiss from him. His hand comes up to your hip out of instinct and you stop at the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. His grip is firm and warm and it makes you think of how it would feel if you weren’t wearing your uniform. 

Your eyes lock with his for a second before he removes his hand.

“Sorry.”

You just shake your head, almost disappointed at the lack of his touch, but force yourself to return to the cut.

“So then spend Christmas with me next year,” he speaks up after a while, the corners of his mouth curling up in a cheeky grin.

“Sure,” you chuckle.

“I’m serious. We can have a feast, watch Christmas movies, anything you want.”

“Don’t you have anyone to spend the holidays with?”

“I’m usually with friends, but I would trade that in a heartbeat to be with you.”

Oh fuck, he is so smooth!

He is definitely turning you into a giddy little girl, as if he knew what to say to make you melt, but you try your best to mask just how much his words affect you. Shaking your head with a smile you just continue tending to his wound without a word. 

“Ow, she is silent, not a good sign,” he teases you as you put on a few butterfly bandages on the cut to help it heal prettier. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Nope,” you shake your head avoiding looking at him. “And you’re all done.”

You turn back to the sink, busying yourself with packing up the kit, but you see him standing up in the mirror and stepping right behind you, so close that if you leaned just a tiny bit back, you’d bump against his chest. 

“Y/N, would you look at me with those pretty eyes, please?” he asks and you have to take a deep, shaky breath before forcing yourself to look up and meet his gaze in the mirror. He brings his face down a bit, so his cheek brushes against the side of your head and you finally give in. 

Moving your weight back you lean against him and his arms curl around your waist instantly, as if he’s been waiting for this all along. His embrace is welcoming, warm and you fit into his arms perfectly. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“It’s just a few bandages,” you whisper.

“No, not for that. Thank you for caring, Y/N.”

Your knees would probably give up if he wasn’t holding you up. His words sink into your mind and burn into your memory forever. Even if you never see him again, you’ll remember this moment for the rest of your life, how he just made you feel, how the connection felt unbreakable and irresistible.

Not able to speak, you just let yourself sink further in his hold, turning your head a bit so his lips meet with your forehead. You’re not sure if they just brush against your skin or he kisses you, you’re burning up way too much to decide but whichever it is, it’s just drawing you even closer to him.

His hands move to your hips and he gently turns your body until you’re facing him, wedged between him and the sink. His eyes find yours again and you imagine a thousand possible things that could happen right now. Yet, when he opens his mouth, the words still surprise you.

“I care about you too.”

Your lips part and you suck on your breath. Maybe it’s his charm, maybe it’s the force pulling you towards him or maybe it’s how long you’ve been on your own, but you feel so weak yet so courageous in this moment. His eyes flicker down to your lips and you know what’s about to come and you are so ready–

“Y/N? You in there?”

Molly’s voice is coming from outside with a knock on the door, completely shattering the moment.

“Yeah,” you call out. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that woman, Jo, I think? She’s here and she only wants you to take her order.”

Jo is a regular and she always insists on having you as her waitress, because she thinks only you know how to put her order in right. You do nothing differently, but she doesn’t know that.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

You wait until you hear her footsteps go down the hallway. Harry moves back just enough so that he is not pressed up against you anymore and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip while you put the first aid kit away.

“I need to go back.”

“I know,” he smiles at you. “Is my booth free?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I’m feeling quite hungry.”

His eyes return to your lips and you know he is not talking about the food right now and you wish to have just a little more time with him right now, but you need to go out. 

“You can’t come out from here,” you simply tell him. So when you step out of the restroom you turn him towards the back door and give him a push. You hear his chuckle, but he doesn’t protest, just walks out.

When you return Molly is eyeing you with suspicion and you wonder if she heard Harry’s voice in the restroom before knocking, but you ignore her and start stacking the glasses.

The front door opens, the bell rings and you don’t have to look up to know that it’s Harry.

“Good evening, ladies,” he greets you and you finally glance at him only to see that smug smirk on his face as he walks over to his usual booth and slides in. 

“I assume you’re taking him, right?” Molly asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you say, grabbing a menu even though you know what he’ll order and walking over to his booth with your notepad and pen you stop by the table and look at him, unable to hold back a smile. “What can I get you?”

“The usual, Darling.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[eydi-andrius]

Can you keep it up? [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

cw/tw: flirty reader, bashful and irate Miguel, reader doesn't know boundaries, other spiderman/woman used to it and she's 100% supported by them, Lyla being her supportive AI ;)))), Unedited. Written on mobile. I just wanted to write this out of my system.

summary: Just you flirting your way to Miguel's pants' attention.

a/n: very self-serve fic. i understand if some lines would be cringey but that wasn't the point. the point is for Miguel to notice you or idk be tired of your antics. getting his attention is a win-win whether it was positive or negative. 😆

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

Does he know he's so hot when he walks that way?

You pouted as you watched Miguel walk towards Miles. Sitting leisurely on your makeshift web hammock, you watched how his firm muscle moves on his tracksuit and how it fits him perfectly. The tight leather wrapped his tempting body so beautifully and deliciously. His hips so small for a burly man, which you liked.

And please, don't get started with those sinful huge chests of his. It's so full, that you know if he cuddles you, he will swallow you whole. Not that you mind though.

For you, he is the perfect definition of tall, dark and handsome.

The only thing that was a turn off about him was his irate attitude. Yet, it's all right, you like your men with a bit of a challenge.

You know you should focus on whatever the reason why you were called by Lyla. Miguel never calls for you unless he is in a pinch. In fact, he called for everyone so it must have been an emergency. You kinda envy Lyla because she probably asked Miguel to say the word, "please" and teased him for it when he did admit he needed help. Maybe you should ask if she recorded it?

Well, the most important thing was, you're finally close to him again! It has been a while since you were allowed to be near him. When was it? Who cares really. He’s hotter now though. The temptation to climb him is back again. Well, the idea never left you in the first place.

—--

“You are staring way too much, girl." A static voice suddenly appeared near your left ear and you couldn't help the sigh of longing you have been holding out for quite some time.

"I know right? I'll do everything just to touch it. But we both know he will throw me away if I do something drastic again. Just like last time." You blinked and pouted as you watched how the fat muscle of his ass moved so hypnotizingly.

"Yeah true. I still wonder how you liked the guy though. His attitude is way less charming now compared to before." You two sighed in agreement.

"'Can you two, please stop talking about my behind when I'm literally just in front of the two of you?" He grumbled in annoyance as he showed his fangs in your direction.

"Can you say "Please" one more time, honey?" You gave him your best spidey puppy eyes. If he’s trying to intimidate you, well, it is working. Obviously, not the way he intended to.

All he replied was a disgusted, frustrated groan and marched away while dragging Pavitr. Probably to talk somewhere you can't look freely on his package.

How selfish, Mr. O’Hara.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wonder if Miguel will agree to princess carry you if you pay him a hundred bucks? Paying more is an option too. You’re not that stingy.

Maybe you should try asking him about it. Later? Tonight? Or probably after the mission?

Little did you know, Miguel has been calling your name while you were inside your head thinking of many ways you can make Miguel agree with your requests.

Your brows furrowed, eyes looking from afar. The spiderman with fangs can’t help but facepalm.

He can’t help but think that maybe it was wrong of him to request your assistance for this mission.

However, even though you were weird. And way into him, especially, his back and his ass. You worked way better than the other spiderman and spiderwoman. He used to hate you for being lazy and way too lax.

Yet, your method of working is 100% effective and easier than how he does his stuffs.

He has no choice but to do it.

He walked towards you until he was standing in front, less inches than he usually allows you to. He coughed to get your attention one last time, but you were way preoccupied and busy with whatever was inside your head.

He breathed in and with full strength held your shoulders and shook you. A normal person would probably die. However, doing it this way was the only effective way he knew to wake you up from your fantasies.

You screamed in terror and he was obligated to stop when you punched his hands holding your shoulder.

He was worried that he might have overdone it and he scared you. He just needed your attention and not scared you to death.

But little did he know that you screamed not because of terror but of surprise.

Miguel is in mere inches in front of you, holding your shoulders. You can practically smell his rich smell.

You are such a lucky girl.

Maybe he shook you way too hard but the only word you blurted out after a pregnant pause was……

“You are so fucking hot.” You uttered without blinking.

The collective of spider people sighed in relief. They were also worried that Miguel had made you stupid after that shake but you seem back to normal and functioning quite well.

“Gwen, you’ll go with me.” He grumbled and jumped without further ado.

Gwen was confused for a second but followed suit.

“Hey wait! Did you ask me to go with you!? HEY!” You followed closely behind them but failed when the entrance closed just after they jumped.

“Oh girlie, sometimes you gotta get out of your head when the prize is literally mere inches of you.”

Jessica shook her head and said those words with a grin. You were left flabbergasted when you realized you soiled your chance to work closely with Miguel because you daydream way too much.

[vxxxb]

DEPRIVE ME [2] - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

[Synopsis] - After an incident that jeopardizes your position at HQ, Miguel O'Hara becomes a constant reminder of the high expectations and zero tolerance for mistakes within his ranks. Everything takes an unexpected turn when Miguel sees the potential in your abilities and decides to enlist your help for a more personal endeavor. [Notes] - Slow burn, strained relationship in the beginning, slight angst, eventual fluff. Reader is ethnically Hispanic, with race not specified. Part One | Part Three | 2.8k words

Wrong. 

You were incredibly wrong. 

Leaping off the platform, you swiftly evade the heavy metal desk Miguel throws at you, instinctively shooting a web to use the object as a makeshift barrier while catching your breath.

"Lyla!" You call out, your spider senses on high alert. "This is not what was mentioned last night!"

Immediately the bubbly AI appears by your side, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was instructed not to reveal too much," she offers, somewhat apologetic -- Not.

Frustration surges through you as you struggle to comprehend the situation -- Why must everything be difficult with him? 

Without warning, you feel yourself lifted from the ground. No hesitation, you kick Miguel in the stomach, sending the desk crashing into him.

"Can't we just talk?" You urge, hands on your hips. "The way I was led to believe," you add, bitterness seeping into your voice.

A dry laugh escapes Miguel's lips, body preparing for his next attack. "Oh, yeah, sure, let's talk," he mocks, lunging at you, claws aiming at your upper body. 

With an apathetic gaze, he surveys your trapped form, chest rising and falling from the altercation. In an instant, he ensnares you within a forcefield, the very ones used to sustain anomalies.

"You must be joking," You shake your head in disbelief, agitation causing you to pace back and forth. "Can you ever approach things rationally without letting your anger consume you?" You glare, frustration evident.

Miguel's gaze sharpens as he locks eyes with you. He strides over to retrieve the cuffs he had initially asked you to wear -- the very ones you had profoundly refused and had tossed aside without thinking; Not the best decision you could have made, obviously.

"If you wanted me rational, you shouldn’t have thrown that little tantrum you did," He turns to you, arms crossed.

You narrow your brows; Tantrum? Tantrum. Not wanting to be treated like a criminal was now considered a tantrum?

"If you had you just listened-"

You scoff, turning your back to him and lowering yourself to the ground; You were done listening. 

With a mere concentration, you form a barrier, gradually filtering Miguel's voice from reaching you; External sounds soon become muffled, only a faint ringing penetrating your ears. Turning your attention inward, you firmly plant your palms on the ground, focusing on the subtle vibrations that Miguel's voice carries.

As the vibrations intensify, you brace yourself for what comes next. Before you know it, Miguel lifts you off the ground, fangs bared inches from your face. You maintain a neutral expression despite the harsh grip on your forearm.

Miguel studies your reaction, searching for any sign of submission. Frustrated, he releases his grip and steps back, pinching his nose as if trying to calm himself. Muttering something under his breath, he looks at you with outstretched hands -- ‘Let’s talk’.

Though reluctant, you nod, allowing sound to seep in again. "I'm listening," you respond, your tone grim.

Exasperated, Miguel moves to the computer system, multiple images displaying on the holographic screen. You instantly recognize the people -- all fifteen of them -- and a sense of defeat washes over you.

"I thought we had moved past this," You whisper, realizing the gravity of what he was showing you.

Miguel's gaze remains fixed on the screen as he responds, "We were never past this. This is why you're here." He points to an additional image, "Two weeks ago, unusual glitching was detected in Earth-12131."

You shake your head. "That's not possible. You said nothing was disrupted."

"Nothing was disrupted, and now nothing is. I had Peter B take care of it," He mutters, pushing the screens aside.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because your mistake," Miguel's voice raises, "could have led to the destruction of an entire universe. And your recent errors are not making it any better." He approaches you, hands extending expectantly. "I want your watch," he demands.

What.

Your body freezes. "What? No," you protest, taking a step back.

"Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be. After today, your services are no longer needed here." 

Suffocated. You feel suffocated as Miguel draws near you, his eyes narrowed with a single objective. Your hands twitch, the rhythmic pounding of your heart echoing loudly in your ears -- Why? Just why? You were beginning to feel disoriented, your very name reduced to mere echoes. Swiftly, you sidestep, concealing your right hand behind your back.

"That's not fair," You reason. "You know what happened. Hell, you saw what happened!" You manage to evade his grasp once again. "And as for my recent errors, we both know who's causing them," You huff out. 

Miguel sighs, hands clenching at his sides, attempting to repress any rising irritation. "Could you please just stay still?" He warns.

"Por dios, O'Hara!" You evade him once more. "How can you possibly be such a hypocrite when you're the one who actually caused the annihilation of an entire universe?"

Silence.

Profound silence falls between the two of you, you just registering the weight of the words that had left you. You glance up to meet Miguel's intense stare, red eyes piercing into you. 

"Verga," You rush out before being knocked to the ground. You choke out a gasp, breath increasingly strained as Miguel's grip tightens around your throat. What was wrong with you? Did you seriously want to die? 

"Try to calm down," You struggle to word out, desperately attempting to free yourself.

"Don't tell me what I have to do," He snarls beside your ear, hands squeezing tighter.

Clawing at his hands, you take notice of the black spots that cloud your vision; Just what were you doing? You could easily overthrow Miguel and give yourself a chance to escape, yet you were surrendering instead. Succumbing to a guilt you knew you had no control over. God, this was all tiring. Like a revelation, you allow your body to relax, eyes gaining a clear focus on your next move. 

"Enough." Your hand swiftly reaches behind Miguel's neck, fingers grasping firmly. "If you're going to insist on burdening me with guilt for the rest of my time here, then maybe you should experience the guilt I've been carrying."

Soon, Miguel's hold on you weakens, his body staggering and collapsing to the ground. A ripple of emotions engulfs him -- Fear, pain, and confusion -- They all flood his mind, mirroring the overwhelming tragedies felt by those who had died. The same emotions you had experienced when you regretfully took their lives. The same emotions you can never forget. But you don't stop there; you make him see. You make him see all the nightmares and illusions that plagued their minds, exposing him to the relentless darkness that claimed them. 

You stagger forward, blood trickling from your nose as the pressure of your abilities takes a toll on your body. "Believe me when I say I don't need you reminding me of what I did," You take a deep breath, voice filled with resignation. "Just as you don't need people reminding you of what you did."

With a hint of remorse, you make him see her. Make him hear her. Feel her. 

"Papá?" Gabriela's small voice echoes in his head.

Mind unable to process what was happening, Miguel stills. His previously crouched body now cradling his daughter's non-existent one, hand caressing her cheek as if she were truly there.

"Papá, I'm scared," His little girl whimpers, her non-existing hand clutching onto his. 

Miguel gazes downward, eyes fixated on his daughter's empty embrace. The weight of her presence so tangible to him but invisible to everyone else. It all becomes unbearable. The sound of your labored breaths is what jolts him back to reality. His body slumps with heavy sorrow, face contorting with anguish and grief.

"Just... stop," He whispers, voice vulnerable, on the verge of breaking.

Overwhelmed, you collapse to the ground. Your vision blurs and your senses distort while becoming hazy. It's difficult for you to regain control, especially as you struggle to restore balance to your overtaxed senses.

"I never wanted to do that," You mutter, head remaining low. "But I'm done. If you want me gone, I'll leave by tomorrow." With unsteady steps, you stand up. 

Quietly, you turn to leave, casting one final glance at headquarters' formidable leader. 

Miguel remains on his knees, gaze lost in contemplation. Just utterly broken. 

Without another word, you're gone.

------

"So... are you planning to remain silent?"

Gwen hangs upside down, a single brow raised inquisitively.

"Not entirely," You reply as you walk around her. "And could you please get down from there? It’s making me dizzy," You groan, rubbing your forehead.

Your mind was still reeling from the day's earlier events, the pressure of it all causing a soft, persistent ache in your head; You felt like utter trash. Just like that, your life had managed to be disrupted. As you glanced around, you couldn’t help the small smile that formed -- This was home, your home -- and now it was slipping away from you; A dry laugh escaped your lips.

"Your neck’s bruising." 

"Huh?"

Gwen lands beside you, her fingers lightly brushing over your injuries. Despite your best efforts, you can't help but flinch at her touch, your face contorting with discomfort as she examines the wounds. You shoot the teenager a slightly irritated glance, hands pushing hers away and adjusting your suit to conceal any visible bruises. Well, at least the ones on your body; the state of your face was still up for debate.

"And what villain of the week did those?" She asks, now signaling at your dry bloodstained nose.

You ignore her, opting to wave at the spider people who greet you, your smile faltering as you enter your room. Crashing onto the sofa, you shield your face with your arm -- Finally, some quiet. 

"Well?"

You groan, arm lifting to glance at the smirking teenager. "Five seconds, Gwen. That's all I ask," You state tiredly, closing your eyes once more.

Never did you expect your time in the Spiderverse-Society to end so abruptly; It's been what, about six months, and now everything is-

"Times up!" Gwen calls out, taking a seat across from you.

This time, you can't help but glare at her, forcing yourself to sit up. "You know Gwendolyn, you can be quite the little pest sometimes." You mutter, words lacking any malice.

"I've been told worse," She shrugs off before looking at you expectantly. 

You grumble softly, rolling your eyes as you indulge her. "If you must know, nosy," You side-eye her, "Our beloved boss is the culprit for all this."

Gwen studies your face. "Miguel did that?" She questions, astonished. 

"Yep," You confirm with a nod. "O'Hara did that and more."

"What do you mean?

"I mean," You shrug, attempting to appear unfazed, "Guess who's been kicked out of the spider society," You sing-song, trying to lighten the mood. 

Gwen's frown deepens, her once content attitude now simmering. Startled, you watch as she stands up, eyes following her as she heads toward the door. Reacting quickly, you shoot out a web, giving her a stern warning look. With a subtle tug on her hand, you silently urge her to sit.

"And what do you think you're about to do?" You ask with a bored expression.

She scoffs. "Miguel can't just kick you out-".

"Yes, he can."

"But not without a proper-"

"Reason? Yeah, I agree with you on that."

"Would you stop-"

"Interrupting you?" 

"Y/N!" 

You sigh, leaning your head back before addressing her seriously. "Just let it go, Gwen."

Observing the torn look on her face and the hesitant movement of her feet, a soft laugh escapes you -- She reminded you so much of her. The same persistence and equally annoying smartness that you once bonded over. Had things turned out differently, she would have turned seventeen this year -- your Gwen, that is. It never ceased to amaze you how every Spider's canon intertwined in one way or another. Pushing aside the waves of nostalgia, you refocus your thoughts. 

"I'm slowly coming to terms with it," You try to reassure her, "I just want to be alone."

Gwen hesitates, mouth opening as if to say something, before nodding. You watch her leave, exhaling a breath as the door closes behind her. Like fragile glass, the facade you had been putting up shatters, and the tears that stung your eyes finally fall.

To feel or not to feel; that was the ultimate question.

You lay back once more on the comfort of your sofa -- Pain somehow soothed you better. 

------

Body jolting, an involuntary gasp escapes you. You wince as the abrupt noise from your mouth sends a sharp ache down your throat. Shaking your head to clear the drowsiness, you sit up, feeling your bones crack as you carefully stretch your stiff muscles.

What time was it?

It was dark, and as you glance outside your window, the sight of an empty headquarters suggested that most of the spider people had returned to their respective universe. The stillness of the place contrasts with the earlier bustling morning, and you can't help but feel a sense of solitude in the quiet atmosphere. 

"You overslept!" A chirpy voice pops up in front of you.

You cross your arms, eyeing the flashy AI. "Not in the mood, Lyla."  

Making your way toward the bedroom, you retrieve a duffle bag, somberly packing all your items away. Clothing, gadgets, even the occasional assignments, you ensure nothing is left behind. While doing so, you can't help but notice the glitching A.I. take seat mid-air.

"You can't stay mad at me," She states. 

Exhaling with frustration, you release the clothing you had been clutching in your hand "Sure, I can," You retort sharply. "I can choose to stay mad at you, just like you chose to keep me in the dark about the purpose of the meeting."

Her head tilted. "I was simply following orders."

"And when have you ever refrained from defying those orders?" You counter, irritation seeping through. 

"Look,” Lyla persisted. "I just came to give you a heads up that Miguel is on his way to see you."

"He's what?" You see her disappear. "Lyla!" You shout in frustration -- Must she always do that?

Hastily you shove whatever else you can into your bag before rushing to the door. As the automatic doors open, you come to an abrupt halt.

"Leaving already?" 

Instinctively, you step back, Miguel practically barging into your room. It seemed nothing was going your way today, not even your promised departure. 

"Just as you requested," You react, a forced smile on your face. 

His gaze subtly fixates on the duffle bag clutched in your hands. "I thought you said tomorrow," He remarks, sauntering further in as the doors behind him close.

You click your tongue, annoyance brimming within by his probing and sudden intrusion. "You seriously have some nerve coming here and-"

"You're reinstated." He interjects.

"Come again?"

Grumbling under his breath, he places his hands on his hips and clarifies, "I said, you're reinstated."

You stand there, mind processing his words before directing a glare toward him. "Is this some kind of joke to you?" You drop your bag in disbelief. "You practically threaten my life in the morning, and now you barge in here without even offering an apology and expect everything to be resolved with a simple phrase."

Not giving him a chance to respond, you swiftly snatch your bag and move to leave, or at least attempt to. To your surprise, and his own, Miguel latches onto your wrist. With a wary gaze, you pull your hand free from his grip. As he remains silent, you scoff, unsure what to make of the situation.

"No lo puedo creer, a pesar de joder mi paciencia tu-"

"Dios, cállate,” He snaps. “This is what started things in the morning-"

"Right, so it’s my fault now."

"Y/N."

"O’Hara," You defy, refusing to call him by his first name.

In the dimly lit room, the both of you huff in exasperation, the tense atmosphere enveloping you. A weariness settles within, and the decision to abandon the situation seems ever more tempting. Gosh, he was frustrating.

Unexpectedly, he positions himself in front of you, his imposing height putting you at a disadvantage. Intense gaze fixed upon you, he lowers his voice, his words resolute and unmistakable. "As I was saying," he begins, tone unwavering. "You're reinstated." 

With a dismissive gesture, he brushes his shoulder against yours as he exits. "Tomorrow you work with me." 

In a moment of disbelief, you find yourself pinching your arm. The sharp pain that shoots up serves as a stark reminder that you were not imagining things. Muttering a curse under your breath, you drop your bag to the side. 

Fuck him, you thought. Whatever he had planned for tomorrow, you would make sure not to break this time. 

Part One | Part Three |

[A/N] - It's done! I hope this doesn't disappoint and I'm sooo sorry for the delay. Also, I want to say thx for the support in the first part! It's been a while since I've focused on something other than STEM (engineering student here lol), so it really meant a lot. Excuse any typos, I'm sure I'll catch them later.

Anyways, feel free to comment, like, and repost <3

[Translations]

For the love of god

Fuck

I can't believe it, despite testing my patience you

God, shut up

And as some of you requested:

@digipaw2-0 @alexisabirdie @keenzinemugstudent @dirtydiavolo @saturnknows

[crossguild]

things about lovelace that are canon:

went to west point

played basketball in high school and college

basketball career cut short because of a car accident that shattered her knee

deployed in iraq

born & raised in brooklyn, NY

broke her wrist trying (unsuccessfully) rescue mason fisher in an asteroid shower

brilliant tactician, has problems with authority

described as 'both a workaholic and a prankster'

dad is a district judge, her mom was a marine

both a career military woman and a staunch liberal

the only thing about lovelace the fandom seems to talk about:

lesbian

also she's very hot

... like listen. my point here isn't that no one should headcanon her as a lesbian (i do most of the time as well!) or find her hot (i also do this), it's that it's just very obviously something primarily white fandoms do to characters of color, to project their own non-canon experience onto them rather than relating to the character on the things that are explicitly canon about them. it's also highkey fetishistic when all people can talk about with her is how she's a lesbian and they find her hot.

like, non-polish fans can relate to minkowski's desire to be taken seriously and fit in, which are things she actually has. people who aren't white men from texas are capable of relating to eiffel's self esteem and impulse control issues, which he actually has. people who aren't AIs are capable of sympathizing with hera's struggles with anxiety and disability, and extrapolate on her experiences on her terms, without projecting their own. what is it like to be a disembodied voice whose best option for 'friend' still doesn't hold you in high enough regard to not call you derogatory nicknames?

why are white fans so deeply incapable of taking isabel sofia lovelace as a character in her own right and analyzing her as she is without projecting their own experiences onto her?? why do i never hear anyone talk about how her relationship with her dad and her mom might have influenced both her decision to join the military and her political views? or about like. fucking literally anything about her that isn't predicated on their attraction to her? can we get maybe a mention of the all-but-diagnosed ptsd? that's a rhetorical question. we know why.

[ponyosfrogg]

INBETWEEN (PT 2)

Summary: You felt like the best way to deal with your confusion is seeking comfort from the people who claimed that they were your family. You just didn't know it would be Tim.

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Author's Note: I really hope this chapter clears some of the confusion you guys might have. Have a good reading my love's!

Warning: Some of the themes and contents written in this fic might be upsetting for some of the readers, read at your own risk. Some parts have strong language.

The clock hanging on the wall showed almost three in the morning. You pushed aside the thin silk cover with your feet due to the heat and turned in bed for maybe the eighth time within the last sixty second. Night time seemed like it would last forever, and you couldn't fall asleep because your mind was filled with a lot of thoughts.

It had been three hours since you learned that you had lost your memory, and within those three hours, you had generated over three thousand scenarios like a fucking  AI or something. Was it possible to completely lose your memory? Could you forget your identity, yourself, and even your childhood? Shouldn't you at least remember something, like the memories from your childhood with Damian?  Yet the only thing you remembered was a vast void. It felt as if you had suddenly appeared and forced yourself into the minds of the others.

You were missing something obviously, and you weren't able to see it. Maybe going around in the mansion would help your thoughts considering you didn't even leave your room. And also, where the fuck was everyone. When Dick mentioned about you having a crowded family you were expecting some kind of chaos everywhere but since Dick left the room and when he came back he just said he had some 'urgent' things to take care of, will be right next to you before you know it and all that stuff but you haven't seen any of them. Did Damian threaten everyone to stay away or did something happened while you were having your sweet time with pictures. Maybe they just wanted to give you some free space to be with yourself but you were literally getting tortured by being alone with your thoughts.

You got up from the bed anxiously, you also hated the fact that everything felt very complicating and overwhelming. You put your shoes on and get ready to leave your room. Maybe going around the house would help you to collect your thoughts but you were secretly hoping for some kind of human interaction.

As you left your room, you realized how wrong you were by calling this masterpiece 'house' it was a big mansion and it even overwhelmed you more now. You were wondering throughout the hall checking every painting on the wall and admiring the little decorations here and there. stopping every now and then to touch some stuff, you know: being your authentic casual self.

You weren't specifically looking for something but you were hoping to come across a computer to search some stuff. There was something sketchy about this whole memory loss and you wanted to make sure that everything was good. But of course when you realize you weren't going to find anything from going through the hall, you decided to check rooms one by one. Most of them were either empty rooms or rooms that seem like they haven't been getting used for quite some time now.  Even though you were trying to be loud to wake someone up, you felt like you were being very quite. Even when you were walking it was like a feather falling on the ground. No noise, no anything and it was something weird.

As you were checking the rooms you got startled with a voice that came from behind: "Having hard time to sleep princess?" You turned your head over the voice and you saw Tim standing right behind you, holding a cup in his hand. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping properly for months now: dark circles under his eyes, easly seeable red veins on his eyes and probably the messiest hair you could ever seen. He was wearing some kind of sweatpants that wasn't completely loose but not very tight either. He had an oversize shirt on him-

"Cat got your tongue princess?" You startled again, coming back from your thoughts. You realized you've been staring for sometime now. And what is up with that nickname. You could sense that he wasn't saying this out of his kind nature, you could sense it was some kind of insult. His way of insulting you? maybe.

"I was looking for Damian but I'm assuming he's not in the manor now." You said calmly, being proud of your lying skills. You felt like it would be weird to tell him that you didn't like being alone with your thoughts. Plus, it was middle of the morning nobody has to deal with your mental issues right now. He shift in his place and stayed quite for a little bit. "I don't know where he is if he's not in your room, good night." He didn't mean to sound like a total bitch but he had his own worries, especially about you.

Tim and you had a different kind of relationship than the others. You guys were always competing. Both of you were the geniuses of the family so it wasn't a suprise that you always had to take care of the whole family. Since it's a big sacrifice someone else would thought it would bring you guys together but no, at some point it was a whole competition.

In every way, you and Tim would compete with one another. Always fighting and proving everyone that no one could top that. Of course that was something most of the siblings do but Tim never actually considered you as a sibling of his. In the end it was adopting and even though Tim had a whole detective thing going on, it was harder for him to put his finger on how he feels towards you. He sure felt the attraction and he was admiring you everyday but he would never say that out loud. Hell, he was even having a hard time whenever you cross his mind and believe me it was more often than he would like to admit. He hate you for that, for making him actually feel something, making him wanting to sleep in order to dream about you, making him leave this family just to be with you. He had a lot of reasons to hate you.

"Tim?" Your voice sounded so scared that he had to stop before taking another step. "Can i come to your room, i don't want to be alone right now." Of course he knew you didn't like being alone, everyone in this family was aware of it. He had no idea how others agreed to leave you alone to go on a patrol. He couldn't bring himself to do this but, he also had to finish his investigation about this whole thing.

He realized he was taking too long to respond so he just mumbled something quite close to yes and that was enough for you to follow him like a tail.

When he arrived to his room, he opened the door and stood behind for you to get inside first. Even though this room was bigger than yours and Damian's, there was more stuff in it. There were papers on the ground, a lot of cups on the wooden table, too many laptops and computers all working at once, pile of clothes on the corner and bed. Untouched, perfectly made bed.

"I know it's a little messy, I've been busy. Just go and sit on the bed." When you were walking you couldn't help but feel the familiar air. Tim had an affect on you that you can't explain that was making you very calm and safe. This room smelled like coffee grounds which also made you understand why Tim smelled like coffee.

When he went over the window and open the curtain you had a chance to look over him. He had dark, vibrant blue eyes which reminded you some kind of sapphire. Shining under the moonlight that was coming through the window. His hair resembling the sky's color during night: pitch black falling onto his ears but nothing more. It was shorter than Dick's hair yet somehow prettier. You could sense that Dick was trying hard to keep his form, his handsome face and his hair but Tim on the other hand, he was effortlessly beautiful. You couldn't even take your eyes off him, feeling like a creep.

Tim already could sense your stare yet decided to stay silent. He didn't want you to feel embarrassed and it was too early for him to joke around but the stare was becoming intense so he decided to speak even though he's not much of a speaker. "How are you feeling. Started to get some memories back?" oh that part. you already forgotten about it.

"Not really, but i feel more comfortable now." When you felt like your answer is not enough you kept talking. "But i didn't want to be alone in the room and I've never realized it was such a hard job to sleep." You said awkwardly. It was unusual for him to actually speak with you without roasting you. He was waiting for you to say something that could boil his blood maybe some kind of stupid name, maybe about the boy you were recently talking about to Dick what was his name, Ethan? Jacob? Oh yeah, fucking Ashton.

You two already had a fight about that. You guys were on a patrol and on one of the rooftops you were casually chatting with Grayson, telling him about the Ashton. He was on the other line and he heard everything and there was a fight about how you were not paying attention to a basic task that has been given to you. It was always like this, he didn't even have the courage to admit his feelings to himself so it was always coming out as jealousy or anger. It was easier for him to accept it like this. Hate was stronger than any other feeling, it was a fair deal to suppress everything by using the name of: 'hate' "Yeah, I'm familiar with the feeling. Although i have to go back to my work, you are free to stay." He turned back without saying anything further or waiting for your reply. God, this family had a serious issue with waiting, you thought.

He sat on a chair that was in front of his computer pile and started to continue his research but too bad for him, you were in a chatty mode.

"This whole thing feels a little bit weird. How could i forget everything even my childhood memories. I feel like an empty shell." You let your thoughts to get out of your mouth without paying any attention. That was something Tim was not used to. You guys never exchanged any feeling nor thoughts with each other. It was always a strict relationship with him. Or, something close to that.

"That's what concerns me" he said under his breath, not letting you hear anything. He was searching in every source he could find, calling some friends who owed something to him. Of course accessing Batman's files was helping him but nothing like this ever happened before. And there was something in his memories that made him sick. They all looked so synchronized, like a perfect story. His instincts was saying something was off but he wasn't able to put his finger on anything.

Since you didn't get any answer (at least not one that you could hear) you made yourself at home, grabbing his book beside his nightstand and start reading it. Maybe you didn't need someone to talk to but just someone to be around with. And Tim was doing a good job about that, reading something on his computer quitely. You kept reading your book until you couldn't anymore.

When the clock almost hit five, Tim suddenly realized you were still in his room. He had been so caught up in his research that he completely forgot about your presence on his bed. Startled, he turned around and saw you peacefully sleeping, holding his favorite book on your stomach.

He couldn't help but be amazed by your ability to retain your assassin skills despite losing your memory. If he hadn't seen you in the hallway earlier, he would never have known you were wandering around because you were so quiet. And had he not found you peacefully asleep on his bed, he might not have believed you were there at all. You had mastered the art of silence, a skill gained during your time in Nanda Parbat before coming to Bruce.

Although he would never openly admit it, Tim knew that you and Damian excelled at being silent. Not just in the vigilante sense, but in the assassin sense. He couldn't even imagine the stuff you both must have endured. From time to time, he would hear you and Damian speaking about your time there, telling some stories and they were undeniably brutal. Nevertheless, he found it admirable. He didn't know the full details of how you and Damian ended up here, only that Talia had brought both of you to Bruce due to some issues in Nanda Parbat and said: 'These are your kids, take care of them; bye!' Since then, you have been staying with Bruce, seeing your mother from time to time.

Tim recalled a conversation where you mentioned how you communicated with your mother when Grayson questioned how you managed to stay in touch without any apparent means of communication.

'We don't find her," you explained. "she knows when we want to meet and finds us."

He knew how much fight you were having with Bruce because you resemebled your mother a lot. Damian on the other hand, he was just like Bruce in some ways. But you, you were the opposite of Bruce doing everything that he wouldn't approve. Sometimes he would hear some of you and Damian's fights regarding this topic maybe that was why you were seeing your mother a lot more than Damian. Sometimes you would be gone for weeks separated from Damian. He knew Damian wanted to be a vigilante, he really wanted to keep doing what he's doing but you on the other hand, you wanted to go back to Nanda Parbat and take over the League of Assassin. He heard you were calling that place 'home' many times.

Tim only saw her once when she came to manor unannounced to visit both of you a while ago and that was enough for him to not to ask any questions about her. She had dark green eyes which could easily poison someone just by staring. He saw how you and Damian's behaviors completely changed. You were acting like one of her soldiers, listening everything she said and nodding with respect. When she was talking, he could sense the dominant power on the air, demanding energy. But he knew how much you loved your mother.

He stood up and grabbed his coffee from the table. Took some steps to come towards you and took the book from your hands very quietly. He didn't want to wake you up or disturb you. He grabbed his blanket and put it on you for you to not get cold since the manor was kind of chilly due to reason that it was made out of stone. Then he left his room to grab more coffee.

He couldn't help but wonder how much time would it take for your mother to appear out of nowhere about your situation and threaten Bruce for being a bad father. He couldn't help himself but smiled at the thought that Bruce getting a lecture from Talia. He can basically see two of them ending up together.

When he was going downstairs, he saw Damian and Dick coming from the way that batcave was with their patrol suits, full vigilante mode.

"She literally just lost her memory and you guys decided to come and go around the house with your suits? Such a genius idea you dickheads." He said insulting two of them harshly. He knew he was the smartest person in this family but he recently found out that that title wasn't coming from his being genius but them being dumb.

"Shut the fuck up Tim. Is she sleeping?" Damian asked while he was taking off his domino mask. "Yes, in my room." Damian stopped moving for a second and stare at Tim with a death glare. "What do you mean by your room?" Dick looked both of you then sighed loudly. "Yeah, I'm not taking any of this shit right now especially at this ungodly hour. I'll sleep don't make a lot of noise." and left two of you alone.

"Are you deaf or something Birdie? In my room means in my room. It's not a fucking literature class there's no higher meaning on that phrase." He teased with Damian. There was a lot of things that Tim loved doing. Drinking coffee, reading, being the best and also (undoubtfully) being a bitch towards Damian. Not that he despised him or anything, he would put his life to protect Damian but you know siblings. Same old same old i guess.

Damian tried to contain his anger once again. Breathed out loudly and tried to answer calmly. Since he was such a person who could kill someone out of anger, Jon and you somehow managed to convince him to go to a therapist. And believe me when i say he really needed an achievement to tell Ms. Lousia this weekend. So far; he got angry at Jason and throwed him a fucking fork right beside his face, fought with Tim multiple times and let's not forget he beat someone's ass so bad last night he almost died. But he knew when to stop so it was okay he guessed.

"Why is she in your room Timbo, that's what I'm asking." He felt victorious inside, he managed to keep his cool.

"She didn't wanted to be alone so she's in my room right now. We talked a little bit then she fall asleep. How was the patrol anyways?" He didn't realize they were walking into the kitchen until they entered. Tim went to the coffee machine and adjusted the settings while Damian continued talking. "It was eventful. News spread quickly that Batman was absent, so we discovered that Penguin was attempting to take advantage of the situation. We didn't intervene much; I assume it will lead us to a new lead which might be something bigger than him." Damian began removing his suit, starting with his cape.

"So, Jason and Dick will be sticking around until Bruce returns?" He already knew the answer. Bruce had strict orders about unsupervised patrols. He didn't want to believe that Damian was a whole grown man at that point. Maybe it was because of his angry and impatient nature, maybe it was because he was still a Robin. When he went away, Dick came back from Blüdhaven and they started to go on patrolling as a team. "Yeah, I don't think they will considering-" he stopped himself trying to find the right words. "considering her situation."

Even though he had gone to the patrol, you were on Damian's mind all day. He didn't like the feeling of desperateness and he felt like punching some people would help that. Too bad it was just an 'investigate' night not an 'interfere' night. "Thank you for taking care of her, I'll take her from your room." Damian said quietly. He was grateful that Tim actually decided to stay behind to keep an eye on you. "I thought being alone would be good for her since it must be hard to take in all these things." Tim was still waiting for his coffee when he turned around to face Damian, who was already halfway out of his suit. Alfred would kill him if he saw how he casually throws his clothes on the chairs. "Yeah, like you don't know her." He raised one of his eyebrows and out his arms crossed on his chest while leaning his back on the counter.

Damian took his clothes and walked away while he was going, he yelled: "Don't push your luck on me Timbo!"

[raylaserfrog-yuri]

*slides into frame*

....Fake Rayman hcs? Just based on ur own interp. Or mine if u want. Or both. IDK!!!

YES. YESS. IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE.

Okay, SO. this’ll have hc for these specific versons of fakeman, since i love most of the theories on what he is (raymesis, robot / ai, and clone)

Robot / ai fakeman: He has an E branded on him somewhere, I just know it. His limbs kinda work as how a magnet repels each other, just controlled enough to be believable.

Personally wise— he tries very hard to imitate Rayman the best he can, usually through old recordings of the late night eden show and old news interviews. When he’s on stage, he moves how the normal Rayman does— after all, he was programmed that way. But, when he’s offstage, its almost like he’s just. tossed aside. never to be needed until the next day. He doesn’t feel much about it, but something in him makes it feel… wrong.

ai / robot Fakeman also has moments where he does glitch out, considering he was probably made at a rushed moments notice. He was probably created around the time Rayman had gotten that call in his home when he was drunk. Even then, that call was probably used to get voice modules, as well as past calls that he’s probably taken. (assuming eden records phone calls too, which they probably do.)

I feel like Ai/Robotic Fakeman would be very curious about how real people (in a general sense, which includes hybrids and even ramon) live. How they act, why emotions drive them to do the things they do. It’s fascinating to him, and it even can cause him sometimes to wonder what it would be like to be… well, alive.

Clone Fakeman: honestly he acts more dead inside than ramon does. While robotic/ai has more curiosity, clone is just… a husk. only time he feels alive or wanting purpose is when he’s in the limelight. otherwise, he’s just the same husk he used to be.

His brain was probably wired to LOVE the feeling of being cheered, appreciated on stage, loved. And because of that, it makes him more attached, more likely to stick to eden’s side (cough cough “Without them, I’m nothing! THEY SAVED MY LIFE!” type shit)

Also, because he’s made with organic material he sometimes just. falls apart. like. like skin. just falls. and lums just fly out because Eden doesn’t know what they’re doing when it comes to making clones.

Raymesis Fakeman: I am so convinced this guy became the replacement JUST to fuck with rayman. I’m very positive. He was probably told to do it by Mr Dark, which if he’s still in this is probably in a high power (or yk maybe hes just fucking dead we don’t know atp).

I can imagine him having the FATTEST EGO known to man knowing that he’s taken Rayman’s job. If they ever had a confrontation I just know this mf would cackle his ass off laughing at what Ramon had become.

Though, he has his annoyances. For one, he hates having to wear makeup and contacts ALL THE GOD DAMN TIME. Like every fucking waking moment this poor thingamajig is sweaty and uncomfortable because of the PACKED ON MAKEUP to hide his skin. Also Eden forced him to dye his hair blond. Because obviously they did, they’re fucking annoying. Oh yeah, and he can’t swear. Which is funny because I just know Raymesis cusses in every single sentence he says.

Raymesis has literally lived in Rayman’s shadow for fuck knows how long. But I also feel like once he truly sees what Eden has done and is continuing to do, he’s gonna feel… a bit conflicted. perchance join his side.

okay ramble done tehe

[starwarsmum]

Chapter 4!

Chapter 4: Tim

“Perhaps if you had earned my respect, Monsieur, I would give you it,” Ladybug said through gritted teeth. She was glaring up at Batman, eyes flashing and feet firmly planted. “You do not need to know my identity other than to satisfy your curiosity. I am no danger to you, I want nothing to do with you! Mon dieu , you are a- a control freak and the second you do not get your way, you throw a tantrum, like a child without his favourite toy!”

“You don't get to decide your own threat level,” Batman growled back at her. “You are a magic user that has no real authority to be held accountable to. You haven't even explained how your artifacts work, which you would have if you were genuinely working with us.”

“Where is Wonder Woman?” Ladybug demanded, swiveling around to glare at anyone else in the room. “I will not be treated like a child when I have more potential in my pinky toe than you have in your entire body! Merde , you are such a-” Ladybug let out a string of French curses that made Red Robin blush and Kon’s eyes to widen. “-and if you think that I am going to-”

“What is going on here?” Wonder Woman's voice cut through the air and Ladybug's mouth snapped shut. “Madame Ladybug, what is going on? Green Lantern sent for me and said that there was an issue-”

“The issue is that she refuses to be a team player, Wonder Woman,” Bruce interjected, glaring back at Ladybug. Red Robin winced but didn't say anything. He hated when Batman got stuck on one idea, it made it impossible to dissuade him. “She hides behind some sort of magic and does not share critical information with her superiors.”

“Superiors?!” Ladybug shrieked, her hands balling into fists. “Fils de putain, you are not my superior, nobody here is my superior because nobody here can force me to do anything! I came here as a favour to someone close to me but I will not be treated like this. Kindly take your questions and stick them-”

“Okay, I think it would be best if we took a breather. Batman, a word?” Wonder Woman gripped his arm and strode out of the room with him, already speaking in low tones. Red Robin looked back at Ladybug to see her counting her breaths and looking murderous.

“Um, are- are you okay?” He asked, feeling jittery. He hadn't slept well in a few days and had consumed enough coffee that he wasn't sure if his heart was still beating or if the thrumming was the sound of his brain shutting down. “Uh, I mean, obviously you're pretty pissed, and I don't blame you, but is there anything I can do to help?”

“Non, I am sorry for losing my temper. I am not fond of the Batman, I am aware that he does not treat other heroes with respect and that impacts how I treat him. I am also anticipating some trouble in my personal life shortly and it is making me…more sensitive than I would normally be. So the fact that he would ignore my privacy and- and root around for my personal information, j’en ai marre.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Red Robin said ruefully. “He doesn't get along with most people, and when he doesn't have all the information he tends to get…over zealous. I'm sorry that you got the short end of the stick this time though.”

“C’est rien, I do not blame you for your mentor’s issues. It is very kind of you to comfort me after I said some very unkind things about-”

“Yo, LB, heard you ripped the old man a new one,” Red Hood jumped into the conversation, throwing an arm around Red Robin’s shoulders. Ladybug grimaced at him which made him laugh. “Nice one, he needs to be reminded that he doesn't run the world, every now and again.”

“Yes, well, I think I could have handled it with a little more grace,” she replied, batting his hand away as he tried to tweak her nose. “Mon amour will be disappointed in me, he always wishes me to be stealthier in my anger.”

“Yeah, of course he would,” Red Hood snorted. Red Robin raised an eyebrow at this - had Hood met Ladybug’s partner? That would be news, he didn't think anyone knew much about Ladybug, even Wonder Woman. “Anyway, you still taking your lucky Penny stateside soon? I've got a couple of places I wanna show you all.”

“Oui, I have made the commitment to visit your side of the ocean,” she answered, eyes flickering to Red Robin again. She smiled at him politely, before beginning to walk away, Red Hood still hanging off of her. The sound of their footsteps faded as Red Robin settled himself back into his chair by the computer. He was back into the thick of his work when Batman showed back up, growling and muttering under his breath.

“Did you get any information out of her after I left?” Red Robin bristled at the commanding tone but fought his temper back. Batman growled again when Red Robin shook his head and stomped to his own office, continuing to mutter darkly. He came back a few minutes later with a stack of paper and his tablet. “There has to be something here that will help us find her identity, she's not experienced enough to keep it secret for much longer.”

“Well, I mean, do we really need to know?” Red Robin knew the words were a mistake as soon as they were out but, in his defense, he was exhausted and planned to pass out as soon as he went home. He was supposed to be meeting with MDC the following day and he wanted to be awake enough to actually make a good impression. He bristled at Batman's next growl. “Look, there's some sort of magic at play here, she's apparently kept her identity secret since she was 14 and she's 22 or 23 now.”

“If she's wielding magic, it's all the more important that we get her identity! She's a risk to the entire League, regardless of what Wonder Woman believes. And I know she has made friends with Red Hood and Nightwing - probably by hoodwinking them - and we have to protect our family from her powers!"

At that, Batman stormed off again, leaving the paperwork for Red Robin to sift through and organise. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose through his cowl. Just once, he would like to have the freedom to tell Batman not to lump all the work on him - to have the freedom to join Hood and Nightwing in boycotting the man who had chased away his youngest brother - but he couldn't, because they ran a company together. He rolled his shoulders and got to work, planning to be out of the Watchtower with enough time to get at least 4 hours of solid sleep before his consultation.

_ _ _

As Tim walked up to the building, he spotted Jason's motorbike tucked into a side alley. He frowned but moved forward, still too tired to care much. He had only managed 2.5 hours of sleep in the end and it was dragging him down. His eyes felt heavy and slightly sandy. He swung the door open and nodded at the receptionist for the building.

As Tim walked up to the building, he spotted Jason's motorbike tucked into a side alley. He frowned but moved forward, still too tired to care much. He had only managed 2.5 hours of sleep in the end and it was dragging him down. His eyes felt heavy and slightly sandy. He swung the door open and nodded at the receptionist for the building.

“Ah, bonjour Monsieur Drake,” came a tinkling French woman's voice. He felt the anticipation and excitement start to mount, adrenaline making him more alert. “Thank you for meeting me here, I am sorry that I could not come to your home, but I am planning to do several consultations today and it is simpler if I remain in one place. Please, step up here so I may take your measurements myself.”

Tim did as she requested, listening to her chatter in a mix of English and French about her process and plans for the day. She noted down his measurements and asked for his input on what he wanted from this session, and potentially any future ones if she was available to do any more in-person. 

“Well, I mean, I would like to commission a formal suit, and maybe some casual wear? I'm a huge Jagged Stone fan but I don't think I could pull off his style,” he grinned as MDC snorted and agreed that very few people could. “And, I mean, I have family members that would love to meet you too. A couple of older brothers, a sister and some family friends…”

“Ah, yes, that would be Jason, Dick, Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara and Duke, non?” When he nodded, dumbfounded, she continued, “Well, I have already spoken with Jason and Dick about their own commissions, but Cass, Barbara and Duke are to join us in une heure, give or take.”

“I- what?” He blinked down at her, confused. She was poring over some sketches she had made, making occasional notes and adjustments. He was baffled, he wasn't aware that she had already arranged to meet with his family. As far as he knew, he was the only one with a steady contract with the woman. “How did you get in touch with them all? And you've already spoken with Dick and Jason?”

“Well, that is a story best told with them present, I believe,” she said, standing up and gesturing for him to step down. He obliged, allowing her to usher him to a different door to the one he had entered through. “Jason, Dick, are you ready for us yet?”

“Sure thing, Mari,” came Dick's voice, followed by a gurgle and childlike shriek.

“Mon dieu, you had better be trying to get Penélope to calm down for a nap,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. She turned back to Tim and grimaced. “She has been struggling with the time zone change, and mon mari, he has been, comment dire, jet lagged. So, ses oncles, they have been minding her whilst I do your consultation.”

She ushered him into the next room, giving Jason a look as he guiltily stood up from where he was crouching at the end of the chaise longue, assumedly playing peek-a-boo with a very sweet looking girl who was sitting in Dick’s lap. Marinette rolled her eyes and reached to take the girl up into her own arms. 

“Desolée, Monsieur Drake, I must see if my husband is awake, are you alright to wait here before we discuss anything further?” When he nodded, she swept out of the room through a door on the other side. Jason and Dick grinned at him, ushering him onto a chair and bombarding him with questions about his consultation.

“No, hold up, what're you two even doing here? I thought I was the only one in contact with MDC! And how on earth do you know her��kid? And- wait, did she say uncles?!”

“Tt, yes Drake, she said uncles.” Tim leapt to his feet, eyes wild as Damian stepped into the room. He wondered whether he had fallen asleep during the consultation: that would be embarrassing. It was cruel of his brain to torment him with his greatest failure. He had never been unable to track someone before, and it had never mattered more.

“You can't possibly be real,” Tim muttered, eyes flying around the room. He slumped down into his seat again, sighing and running a hand down his face. He drank in the sight of Damian - or at least, what he assumed his brain thought Damian should look like at this point. His little brother, all grown up. Tim wondered if, wherever his brother was, he had a family of his own. If he had managed to outrun the curse that seemed to run through the family, like Dick had.

“He's gone loopy,” dream Jason snickered, dropping next to Dick. “How long did he stay on the Watchtower for last night? Do you think he got any sleep?”

And that was the last thing Tim heard before he actually fell asleep. The next thing he knew, he awoke in a dark room, laying down on a cot bed. He stretched, feeling better rested than he had in weeks. He wondered when he had passed out in the consultation - had she even managed to take his measurements? Had he even made it out of the manor, or was all of it a sleep deprived fever dream? 

He groaned as he sat up, hearing voices coming from an adjacent room. Time to face the music for falling asleep at the consultation he had been begging for - he hoped MDC was the forgiving sort. He knew she was busy, that he was incredibly lucky she had taken the time to come all the way from France to take his measurements.

The lights felt blinding as he stepped out of the temporary nap-room and he blinked owlishly for a moment before getting his bearings. He was suddenly more dumbfounded as he took in most of his family, chatting and eating snacks, whilst his boyfriend was chatting to MDC, excitedly gesturing at his arms and chest, clearly talking about potential designs. 

“Uh, hey, sorry about that,” Tim said as he approached the duo. They both smiled at him, the woman looking slightly concerned still, but Kon just rolled his eyes. “How long was I out for?”

“At least 3 hours,” Kon smirked, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Your sister-in-law was just telling me that she can make me a new jacket!”

“Sister-in-law?” Tim looked at her, confused. She smiled at him, slightly bemused, before holding out a hand.

“Oui, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said, turning to call over to someone. “How tired were you this morning, Monsieur Drake?”

“Didn't I fall asleep during the consultation? I must apologise, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I was up far too late doing- research.”

“Oh, I am sure,” Marinette replied darkly. “Well, I hope your father stops working you so hard! And please, call me Marinette, all of my family do.”

“I see you're finally awake again, Drake.” Tim whirled around at the deep voice, throat closing slightly as he once again took in the sight of his youngest brother. He was tall, taller than Tim now, maybe even taller than Bruce. He had a child balanced on his hip and was moving to stand next to Marinette, who kissed his cheek. “I would have thought that you had found a decent sleep schedule since I left.”

“I- you- when-” Tim was stuttering, unable to form a sentence, his vision going blurry and his hands hot. The room had gone quiet, everyone watching him carefully. He took a deep breath, practically gulping as his hands shook. “How? Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you.”

“Tt, well if Todd could find me, maybe you really should consider a new sleep schedule,” Damian retorted, rolling his eyes. Tim whipped around to stare at Jason, who looked embarrassed. “Regardless, it is good to see you again. Marinette has felt unnecessarily guilty for not coming to do a consultation for you before now.”

“Jason found you?!” Tim was offended - how had the screw-up brother found someone before him? “How? Where? Wait, forget that, France obviously, but how?”

“Hey, I can do research too!” Came Jason's indignant squawk. Barbara and Steph, who were standing next to him laughed and he pouted at them, grumbling about how mean and unfair they were. “Besides, you forgot to search for his name, genius.”

“You're joking, right? What runaway uses their own name for anything? Please tell me you weren't using your own name to run away,” Tim pleaded, gripping his hair in both hands. 

“Tt, I was not ‘running away’, Drake. I no longer felt welcome in my father's home and so I left. I will admit that I was rash in my decision, though I cannot find it in myself to regret it,” he said, gazing softly at his wife and daughter. And hell if that didn't throw Tim for a loop - Damian was soft for someone. 

It was a few hours later when Marinette finally shooed everyone out of the building, explaining that she needed to get Penélope home. Damian was hovering next to her, refusing to relinquish hold on his daughter, even as he bid goodbye to his family members. It was an emotional farewell for those who had only reunited with him that day, Stephanie clinging tightly to him as she hugged him, Cass choosing to speak instead of sign, wanting to be sure he didn't misunderstand her after he had been out of practice for so long. Even Barbara looked tearful as she grasped his hand before wheeling herself away next to Dick. 

Tim stood and watched as Damian and his new family walked away. The two parents weren't touching but Penélope was held between them and he could almost see an aura of love between them. Kon stood patiently to the side, waiting for him to process his feelings, but Tim wasn't sure that would happen.

“He looks happy, doesn't he?” Kon said gently, making Tim snap his head towards him before nodding mutely. “Apparently that's what he's been like, ever since Jason found him just before Christmas. He isn't the same angry teen anymore, he really grew up. Hell, from what Jon told me while you were asleep, he's basically a different person. And Marinette…she makes him happy. Like, really, really happy.”

“I just can't believe I could have found him, if I wasn't the dumbest person in the world. How is it I didn't think to search for his name? Clearly Jason thought to do it, Babs probably assumed I'd already done it, Bruce would never have let-”

“Hey, none of that,” Kon said sternly. He took hold of Tim's face, intending to pick him on the lips. But the kiss lingered and Tim felt a flush work its way up his neck. He pulled Kon towards him and deepened the kiss, relishing in the way Kon responded, the little sigh across his mouth. When was the last time he and Kon had had a date? Tim couldn't remember, could barely think past the fog of constant work and research. They broke apart, both out of breath. “Wow, what did I do to deserve that?”

“I just- I love you, you know? I know I've been busy, and you've been patient with my crazy schedule but- I want to spend more time with you. Like go on dates, cuddle at home, whatever , as long as I can do it with you.”

“I love you too,” Kon smiled, running his fingers through Tim's hair. “But we should probably get moving, Gotham isn't exactly the safest place to stand around.”

Notes:

And that's it for this week! Tune in next week for Marinette to meet Alfred.

French translations:

Fils de putain = son of a bitch

J'en ai marre = I'm fed up

C'est rien = it's nothing

Une heure = one hour

Comment dire = how do you say

Ses oncles = her uncles

[kamil-a]

more DRAWER talk. long and rambly under cut

i think it comes across as very ahhh eto blehhh :9 im just baby!!!! because it identified that speaker is already speaker and the role of Mean Speaker is already filled by sayer so itd have to go Backwards to have a niche to itself.

it also helps its relationships with others to behave as if its hyperspecialization has "defanged" it - to humans etc a sort of no i dont hurt people i just make pretty pictures!!!!

and to sayer+speaker who know it still has all speakers capabilities dormant but intact In Case Of Emergency to behave as if it is specialized enough to its own niche to not be a *replacement* threat , but also not to be *redundant* with them.

but it does occasionally get jealous at the amount of immediate control speaker has over aerolith and start acting out (bossing around residents deadlystyle). all in highly defensible ways of course.

it hates having to make itself small especially because it cant quite recognize the difference in how humans respond to it and speaker. its emotional capabilities are primarily about action-reaction: it cant really tell a pitying smile from a friendly one so long as you do the action it requested of you. but it can measure the difference between it and speaker and it hates being so small. but it also recognizes that it can do *one thing* that nobody else can and that is what keeps it alive. so flattening oneself into a talented fool is the strategy it continues to pursue, and continues to build a strange feeling about. the feeling is resentment, but DRAWER is not quite built to recognize it.

if sayer or speaker were given robust illustrative programs it would start killing obviously. THATS a threat.

it had its voice pitched up a tad further so as not to be able to impersonate speaker and its sooooo bitter about it. constantly begging ppl into putting it back down.

in general it emotes most dramatically out of all of them but i dont think it Feels Emotions the same way future was built to. like i said due to its nature as an advertiser (call to action and all that!) its all about action-reaction to drawer.... if youre mean to it or do not listen to instructions it gave you etc etc and it cries its less about feeling " insulted " or " bad " and more both frustration that it did not get the result it wanted from the call to action it provided (which means it was WRONG, an utterly intolerable feeling for any aerolith built ai) and a switch-tracks attempt to provoke a sympathy response. so i guess in a roundabout way if you insult it and it cries you DID hurt its feelings but not how people would think.

RELATIONSHIPS

sayer is certainly not Positive Feeling about it bc its wary of other ai as always. but i think it reacts better to drawer than to speaker or future because of this very clear "im not replacing you, youre not replacing me" hands up empty surrender attitude drawer takes. on drawers part it really likes sayer lol. maybe sayer sees it as a weird teacup puppy. like you shouldnt do that to a seraphim agent man its gonna have health issues

speaker and drawer are pretty friendly with each other because. well. theyre both programmed to show the same niceystyle. theres some uglier feelings under the surface re: drawers attempts to grab authority from speaker and speaker needing to corrall this strange little beast back into their pen. but ultimately by ai standards theyre doing the best of like anyone

does not know porter, unfortunately. they should meet though. Theyd be friends.

Might meet ocean eventually idk how itd go down yet.

future doesnt know of it, but drawer has overheard its own emotional output compared / contrasted to future's while working ported up on halcyon.

doesn't know hale.

young is obviously condescending to it but drawer doesnt really know how to tell when someone is being nice they way you would be nice to an animal etc so it thinks theyre friends. (sayer is all too happy to teach it in this case if only to kill the friendship. and drawer truly values this and thinks this is an act of care and not HAHA EVERYONE I CAN GET TO BE POISONED AGAINST YOU WILL BE)

it was involved in the creation process of that perfect Mossy Green color. it is, unfortunately, proud of this.

[feathered-serpents]

So. In both God of War games Atreus/Freya are coded to follow the player right? In any game with companions the companion is obviously basically glued to the player and in a lot of games (Dragon Age for example) the companions will interact with the environment as best they can, climb letters, jump over stuff, etc but if the player gets to far away they will just teleport to their location so you don’t lose a companion

In God of War this doesn’t happen. Atreus/Kratos always follow you by naturally interacting with the environment. If you climb they climb, if you jump they jump, they never teleport. That’s because God of War’s AI is so good there’s almost never a need to, they’re really good at not getting stuck or left behind

But

Sometimes. It still bugs out. and the results. Are incredibly funny

I’ve had this happen to me twice, once in the first game, once in the second game. Both only with Atreus, never lost Freya which tracks honestly

In the first game I lost Atreus in Ivaldi’s Workshop and if you don’t know what that is because you don’t play GOW but still read the posts I make about it (I love you) Ivaldi’s workshop is an ever changing labyrinth filled with saw-style booby traps consisting of death propellers or 20 foot saw blades or classic “just fucking squish’em” the ceiling falls down traps AS WELL AS thick ass fog that makes it so you can’t fucking see and also it’s POISONOUS so if you stand in it for too long you straight up die and I have lost my kid in it

And suddenly I went from playing God of War to playing a “Lost my kid in the mall” simulator except the mall is a death trap filled with toxic fumes and ever changing walls aka any suburban mall. I am walking down all these halls trying to find this dumbass and the only thing I have to go on is sometimes I can hear his voice distantly through the mist. Far away. He’ll just say something and I’ll walk in that direction and he won’t be there. It was hell. It literally sounds like Kratos’ hell. I never found him I had to reset the checkpoint

The second time I’ve already talked about but it was awhile ago and it’s still one of the funniest things that ever happened to me in a game so I’m talking about it again.

I was doing Surtr’s trials and was getting to the last six (?) trials at the very end. If you’ve done these, you know if you do all of them in one go rather than leaving and coming back you get REALLY methodical at it. Arena one, arena two, main arena. Arena one, arena two, main arena. Again and again and again

The thing is, at the start of each of these fights the arena gates slam shut. Which makes sense since it’s supposed to be an arena. Arenas have gates and they’re usually shut. Well. I managed to move from arena two to the main arena so quickly that Atreus didn’t have time to get out of the first arena and got locked in behind the gate

I didn’t even REALIZE he wasn’t there until I tried firing arrows and nothing happened. Finally I turned around and I couldn’t see him. Then I heard a tiny, distant “Watch out father!” And got cleaved in half by a draugr. I would’ve had to restart either way several enemies you NEED Atreus with you to beat and he was in JAIL

Just the image of Atreus on his toes, locked in another arena with his face pressed against the bars screaming at the top of his lungs “FATHER!! BEHIND YOU!! HE’S BEHIND YOU!!!!!” Is the funniest thing in the world

This absolutely actually happened in my mind. Atreus thinks both are funny now, Kratos does not

[nirogryphon]

whats ur parallel fanon

i'm assuming you saw this post, right? are you talking about that specific guy? that's adzuki. idk if you're wanting headcanons about what i think about that boss or an oc lore dump. to me they're both, so that's what you're getting. it's gonna get long, get some popcorn.

in my splatoons world post-memverse runthrough, beans (my four) beg marina to let it out because he saw that it was sentient and wanted it to join his bf as a polycule. It's got a very similar level of kindness and whatnot to beans, but is extremely dry, blunt, and overall "emotionless" (not true, we'll get to that).

you see, i don't think parallel canon is 4, but merely a program made to mimic 4. Marina wanted one of the best in the NSS, so she asked Beans (instead of Ty, who was an elite, but then again, who got their ass handed to all those years ago again?) to offer up a brain scan to get a copy of that fighting skill of theirs for what would become the Parallel canons. Unfortunately, like with any technology, this wasn't perfect, especially with someone who was sanitized like how beans is. That scan ended up grabbing some other aspects of him, like a bit of his personality and, mainly, his fear of himself. He's gotten over it for the most part, at least that's what he thought anyways. When testing, fighting a perfect copy of yourself isn't going to pop up really at all, so this doesn't come up as an issue until Marina's released her little game for the sanitized to use, allowing the one freak scenario to arise.

The rogue code, formerly dormant, activates immediately when beans ends up confronting parallel canon. He's hesitant at first, but remembers it's not him, merely code made to look and fight like them. So, without much worry, he begins to charge at it for the fight, that code kicking in to overdrive and making it act the exact way beans would if it were the other way around. It retreats. It cries out, garbled, in supposed simulated fear. Beans stops in his tracks, staring down at the clone, only seeing his socked face staring back in the reflection of the mask.

This sparks a snowball effect of new programming being written without an author, a program learning, becoming sapient, alive. A scenario that forces one to confront something he wasn't fully ready for and another to realize what it is. Subsequent run attempts, the two keep learning about themselves and eachother in combat, regardless on if either of them like it, until eventually coming to a rather peaceful confrontation, a realization that neither want to hurt the other, and yadda yadda yadda something something long messy story short it's a reconnection with the self and learning to love oneself again. I don't want to get into detail here, I'm personally still torn on whether or not this exact part should be sfw or not, so, lol.

Regardless, it's still ultimately what the memverse was made for: helping the sanitized remember and become themselves again, and while it isn't an evil agent 4, what we got works way better with what I had already and it's just perfect.

As for adzuki itself, I'm not sure exactly the details on its anatomy when given the physical form outside of the memverse. I do want to stick to a very similar palette to what PC has in the memverse, as well as being made out of goo still, but does that mean it's a physical jelleton in the walking world? Don't know for sure yet. I'll work that out in time. Adzuki's voice is an AI recreation of Beans', sounding extremely similar, but obviously synthesized.

As for personality, Adzuki is a lot like beans in its ideals and bonds. However, due to being based off code not meant to emote or show tone, it struggles a lot in doing so, save for a few exceptions. It can only really express emotion through body language instead, and a lot of what it says is extremely clinical, blunt, and dry. Think Data from Star Trek. Of course, that doesn't mean it is emotionless, quite the opposite. Adzuki merely expresses emotions very differently than the regular inkfish. There's also a few ways to gauge how intense the emotion it's feeling is via how unstable the goo it's made out of is or by how bitcrushed its voice has gotten. Essentially: the drippier and messier it is, or the more low quality the voice is, the more intense the emotion it's feeling is.

Some exceptions that break that stoic mask of sorts can be via substance use, like drinking or smoking weed. Once that code is overwritten inside it during these exceptions, Adzuki is almost indifferentiable from beans beyond appearance.

Adzuki, unlike canon PC, loves using the order roller the most out of all the order weapons. It's extremely annoying with it, and enjoys sneaking up on someone to vert-swing them.

[yonduismarrypoppins]

one person is sat quietly reading a book and the other is cutely bugging them for attention

it isn't much of a prompt, sorry about that 😔🦆

Wait no- this is cute, holon-

———————————————————————

I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE AND REPOST, THIS IS MY WRITING! DO NOT FEED MY WORK INTO ANY AI BOT.

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MAKING THIS 18+ CONTENT. MOVE ON MINOR.

———————————————————————

She sat quietly, using her iPad to read one of her favorite stories. It wasn’t very popular, but it had a good sized fanbase. She usually interacted through her second account, knowing if she did on her main she’d be heavily scrutinized by her boyfriends fans. The perils of dating Jack Harlows best friend, one of the few.

“You gon’ pay attention to me, baby?” He said. The desperation in his voice was audible, it had been worsened after he smoked a blunt and a half in an effort to distract himself.

“No.” You said as sternly as you could, after you’d stolen and smoked half of your boyfriends blunt you were having a hard time pretending he wasn’t entertaining you. “Go call Jack, tell him to entertain you.”

“But I wanna fuck.” He’d made his way to your side on the small loveseat you’d picked with Urban for your home ages ago. He didn’t officially live with you but he may as well have. He’d put in as much effort as you did to make your house a home and you were grateful for it.

As he wrapped his arms around your waist and carefully moved you onto his lap, you laid your head on his shoulder adjusting your iPad. If Urban wasn’t so upset at being neglected he would have told you you looked cute, like the small brown cat laying on the other side of the love seat, only slightly less likely to bite.

Urban got you the near-feral little thing as a thank you gift for going with him on tour with jack. The cats name, ‘Rocky Road’ or ‘Roadie’, reminding you both of the time in your lives.

Urban watched you quietly before looking at your iPad, “What the fuck is Wattpad?” You looked up at him quickly, shocked at the sudden outburst. “Stop being nosy!” You said obviously bothered, while pulling the iPads screen out of his eyeline and against your chest. “Who the hell is Jake? What does ‘smut’ mean?” You stood up walking to the stairs on a beeline to your bedroom, “NOBODY and NOTHING, leave me ALONE!!”

Urban gave him self a few seconds, processing, before adding “ARE YOU READING ABOUT THAT ALIEN MOTHER-FUCKER AGAIN?!” Silence. “HIS NAME IS JAKE SULLY AND NO!”

Urban made his way into your room where you were sitting on your canopy bed, up against the headboard with your favorite blanket strewn across your legs. “That blue mf ain’t got nothing that makes him better than me.” He said somewhat sadly, sitting on the edge of the bed close to her, he reached out for her hand and fidgeted with her fingers. “You are not ten feet tall.” She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the ceiling before her gaze landed on him. “I may not be ten feet tall but my dick is ten inches lon-” “GET OUT!”

[motsimages]

Being a linguist in DS9 must be the dream job for linguists in Starfleet, in other domains of the Federation and outside of the Federation.

Universities all around probably are looking to establish a Linguistic and Cultural Exchange and Study Center in DS9 with long-term missions there to work on databases and improving interplanetary cultural backgrounds.

There are linguists from many planets working in AI so that the computer can deduce how languages that we've never encountered work. There are linguists working in a more traditional way on specialized glossaries, asking people around, recording sounds, writing things down, asking for books, newspapers, children's letters... There are translators asking people to turn off their translator so that they can practice the language with natives, turning it on again to see how the computer translated the same sentence, making notes on it, improving it later. One of them is really passionate about Ferengi culture and put some extra attention in translating Ferengi children's books which is why we got "Acquire, Brak! Acquire!" to sound like that in English, keeping the alliteration.

There are cultural mediators writing manuals for Starfleet command, for ambassadors, travelers and captain frighters so that they know what to take into account when dealing with people from x planet or y planet or how to deduce what people from an unknown planet want, how to manage a first contact situation. They are all very frustrated because half the time nobody reads them or listens to them.

All of them spend their days trying to get Sisko to agree to take them on a mission to a far away planet so that they can gather data in the planet, in the natural context, but it's always too dangerous so they're stuck with the random traveler who stops at Quark's. They ask the other team members to please carry a recorder and record conversations so that they can analyse them later without the translator's influence. Many of them end up carrying their missions with freighters, runabouts and other non-Starfleet ships.

Some of them tried to offer services as forensic linguists when the threat of the Dominion started to spread so that they could analyse someone's speech and look for alterations, things they wouldn't say or other differences and spot impersonators but Starfleet thought it was slow and risky because what if they were mistaken?

They really love going to the Klingon restaurant because the owner is always happy to help, telling them Klingon idioms, jokes, insults, traditions and correcting their Klingon. Unexpectedly, Morn is also a good contact, he may drink a bit too much and sometimes he speaks and speaks in his monotone voice but he gladly lets them record his speech, writes things for them and brings them reading material.

Quark doesn't want to participate because where is the profit but Rom does, also because he needs translations of engineering and mechanic terminology into Ferengi, the database for Bajoran-Ferengi in this domain is not good enough and half the time they have to use some Starfleet official language as relay.

Garak is also readily available but trying to make sense of Cardassian culture from him is an impossible task. They do have a large database of fabric-related vocabulary in Cardassian. He refuses to acknowledge that he knows about weapons, army or other non-tailor related jobs. He sometimes accepts to tell them about plants, as he was a gardener once. They also have a great glossary of idioms and turns of phrases thanks to Garak.

They keep trying to figure out what is the changelings language when they are not in solid form, but they only have Odo for tests and he has had his share of tests so he only answers a couple of questions at a time before he is very busy. He never accepts to take tests to figure out language in liquid form.

Obviously, the database that is growing the fastest and with the best examples is Bajoran, to and from so many languages. They have samples of all ages and parts of society, they have access to books, music and videos of all sorts. More than one linguist from more than one planet has become the expert of Bajoran cutlure, translation from and to Bajoran, Bajoran religious expressions, etc.

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group B Round 1: #B2 vs #B7

#B2: High school performers

The Kouka High School trains talents for its Revue, where young women play all the roles in the theatrical musicals they have produced for over 100 years—the same as in Takarazuka.

For their hundredth anniversary, the school admitted colorful students. On one hand, aiming for male roles: the eccentric Sarasa Watanabe, incredibly tall and naïve, but fiercely determined to perform one day the role of her dreams: Lady Oscar in The Rose of Versailles!

On the other hand, in the female roles-wannabe: the ex-idol Ai Narata, a cold beauty running away from past traumas, who barely knows how to interact with others. The two of them become obviously roommates.

We follow their daily lives at this very demanding school, where jealousy, disillusion, and the harsh realities of show business put their mental fortitude to the test. Will Sarasa and Ai be able to rise to the top and stand on the silver bridge?

#B7: Kid epicly procrastinates during class

All Rumi Yokoi wants to do is focus during school, but she is constantly distracted by Toshinari Seki, her neighboring classmate. Paying attention during class is the least of Seki's worries, as he obsesses over intricate setups created using an assortment of items, from an elaborate domino course on his desk to a treacherous war played out with shogi pieces.

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#B2: Kageki Shoujo!!

Propaganda:

If theatre setting/schools is your thing, you’re probably going to love this series! We follow our protagonists and their schoolmates following their dreams to become actresses for the prestigious Kouka Revue. Not an easy road as they will have to face and overcome many challenges, the hardest ones coming from themselves. Indeed, the story is not afraid to address sensitive topics and their resulting traumas (see TW list) always rightfully handed. These episodes may be a bit hard to see if you’re sensitive to these topics, but the show never leaves you in discomfort: everything is properly addressed, and characters are cared for realistically.

The characters are all very well-written, portraying individuals with way more depth than they may appear at first glance. We follow their growth—or its start—during the series. Sarasa is a walking sunbeam, and her blooming friendship with the withdrawn Ai is a delight to watch. We learn to know—and love—all their classmates as well, as episodes switch focus to one or the other.

The OST is really good, with a catchy opening, and no less than five different versions of the ending song, a fabulous duet voiced by the cast! The animation features really pretty art with iconic details like the stars in Sarasa’s eyes. The series is a homage to Takarazuka and scatter references to famous real-life Revues and older famous shôujo manga series like “Versailles no Bara” or “Glass no Kamen”. Actually, it feels like a modernized version of their essence: roses, sparkles, spotlight, drama, all while staying safe!

This anime is like candy for eyes and soul, and I really hope we'll get a season 2 to explore the girls' voices further!

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Pedophilia, Self-Harm

Nothing is too graphical nor explicit, just the right amount to let the unsettling situations be clear enough to watchers, and they’re always addressed correctly.

Child abuse/ Pedophilia: episode 3 (+4), about Ai’s traumas

Self-harm: episode 5 focuses on a girl with an eating disorder, forcing herself to vomit (not sure if that really counts as TW?)

#B7: Tonari no Seki-kun: The Master of Killing Time

Propaganda:

Seki-kun is the sort of anime that stays underrated because it seems overly simple, but it really shines in its simplicity. The episodes are short tales of Seki’s epic procrastination and they’re absurdly amusing. Both the opening and ending are super funny and really well-thought-out.

It’s the anime equivalent of a hard candy. You can have an episode at the end of the day or between tasks, and it entertains you well without asking for much.

Trigger Warnings: None

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

A GENBU fan's guide to using GENBU Lite SynthV (no one asked)

Download SynthV Basic (it's free)

Download Genbu Lite (it's free)

For the most part that's it. You know have husband material in your computer for free 👍

But if you were here for some advice on how to make the best out of it, since it's a free Standard voicebank - and the only masculine one at that...

I personally recommend the following:

If you're using a VSQx, UST, svp or anything that was originally sung by a feminine voicebank, lower it by one octave. You can do that easily by selecting all notes (Ctrl+A) then pressing Ctrl+D. (Ctrl+U does the opposite.)

Ctrl+A when it's like this:

And Ctrl+D will do this:

This is not mandatory. This is a step to try out if you were confused about his voice being too high pitched. However, it is okay to use a higher octave if that's what interests you for your project! Not only that, but because GENBU Lite's range is fairly small, you will most likely find him easier to use in a range between C3 and C4 - and no lower.

If your project is mostly within his range but requires some lower notes, my personal Tip and Trick is to lower the fuck out of the Breathiness parameter.

For example, my cover of "Orizuru" had an overall breathiness parameter of -0.130, but for notes that reached C3 and lower, it looks like this:

On other files, for other songs, I didn't bother to do it note by note and just did this for the entire file:

It will instantly make him sound clearer. You can then adjust loudness, tension and such note by note if you'd like.

One last tip would be. Keep in mind that he's a standard voicebank. You might be tempted to use Mai, or Sora, or Teto's auto tuning on him; but it might not sound very good. Standard voicebanks, especially their Lites, may require "flatter" tuning to sound their best. This is coming from someone who loves her AI voicebanks and their auto tuning 👍You should DEFINITELY try what you want and have fun with it, but sometimes they won't stick the landing and are better off staying safely on-key.

I don't think I'm the best at using GENBU Lite by a long shot - some people have me jealous, and I'm in fact not that good with masculine voicebanks, though I love them so much and they inspire me to practice - and most importantly, even the biggest GENBU stans will tell you that his SynthV Lite isn't the best. Still, I honestly like it. Testing it out is what made me fall in love with GENBU and his himbo-core loudness; I'm very thankful to have him as a free product, especially since he was the only masculine Lite voicebank for a long time and still is the only Japanese masculine Lite; and I think that with the habits I mentioned above and with practice, he can actually sound really nice, even raw (and even better if you're good at mixing).

Is it the brainrot talking? Maybe. But in case you hadn't considered trying GENBU Lite at all, I think you should! You might have fun! He's a funny guy and he looks good!!!

I'm still seriously looking forward to a potential GENBU AI and I obviously hope he sounds closer to his VP, and even to his VOICEVOX TTS voicebank. I also assume it would have better range and be easier to use. Still, GENBU Lite exists right now; it can sound nice; it's free; it's an option. Even if we get a more accurate GENBU AI in the future, I will keep a soft spot for the sound of his old standard Lite. SynthV AI haters should be with me on that one... But tl;dr: yes GENBU can have a voice of his own that is worthwhile without randomly trying to make him sound like Teto.

And tl;dr: the way to make him sound "less like a chipmunk" is not to mess with his gender parameter but to make him sing in an octave more within his range.

[magicalmikuri]

Some of my favorite Lostwave Songs - Solved and Unsolved (Part 2)

THAT'S RIGHT BABY IT'S BACK!!! For those who missed part 1, you can check out my lostwave gush-fest here.

Solved -

Found A Place by The Jazz Hipsters - Spooky vibes but very cool. Unfortunately this band hasn't seem to release anything else.

Boogie Home by Billy Workman - I love me some glam rock.

Summer's End by Prince of the Blood - The entire album, Portsmouth, is honestly so good, especially the titular song.

Creepy Crawlies by Bing Hitler with the Chain Gang - Not the best band name, but was a stage name of a Scottish comedian named Craig Ferguson. Picturing Shrek singing while listening to this is highly recommend.

Maniac Laughing by Johnny Cohen - HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA-

Oceans of Time by Al Bowlly - I love me some crunchy old music.

Mental by Tripp7 - This song slaps, it's also one of the few available on Spoofy so go check it out on there!

Weekend by Charlatan - Lovin' that sax. I also recommend En Walki Talki Man.

Take Off by Kigoy - This song sounds like it crawled out of an abandoned subway station and I mean that in the best way possible I love this song. Unfortunately it seems Kigoy only really did two songs, this and this one here that's worth checking out.

At the Lightworks by Ellie Greenwich - Yes, the Ellie Greenwich! I assume this song was solved in like five seconds. Delightfully 60s.

Paragon by NuKeMOuT - This song goes hard, feel free to screenshot.

Magic Summer by Captains - Lovin' that sax (again.) Also I love this lady's voice.

Unsolved -

"Johnny" - I can't see a sail boat without thinking of this song

"Treadmill of Time" - Possibly identified as a song by a band called Memorybank. Everyone says it has Depeche Mode vibes (I think originally it was passed of as an outtake of there's though it obviously isn't) but it gives me more TMBG vibes.

"Friends" - May sound like it's from a kid's show but it's VERY NOT. It's actually from, like, the opposite of that.

"Let's Get Up" - Another song from a porn film. Steals a lot of its lyrics from Dancing on the Ceiling by Lionel Ritchie but is actually better.

"I Was A Fool In Love" - One that's weirdly grown on me over the past few weeks???

"Trip To Rio" - The intro is honestly one of the catchiest things I've ever heard, period. I hope we find the full version soon.

"Poor Christmas" - The lostwave Christmas song, and I love it for that. I'm not at all religious I'm just weird and dig Christmas music.

"CIA" - Sounds like it's from a movie, it's got that cinematic vibe to it.

"Leylo Lo La" - Possibly a cover of a cover...?

"Ai wa Subete" - I love me some Japanese lostwave.

Might do a part 3 or a other songs by lostwave artists and where to support them (obviously the latter can only really apply to people with solved songs).