#flat out robot is too easy

[macksartblock]

I hope Trudy wasn’t always a robot bc that would be way more fucked up of Tucker also because what robot is programmed to suffer from comphet

[sp0o0kylights]

Sometimes I think of a Steve Harrington that is absolutely exhausted by all the horror and bullshit and trying to keep the kids alive through said horror and bullshit, who watches Eddie rock up to him at the beginning of S4 with a dead eyed, flat stare.

"Steeeeve Harrington." Eddie taunts and peacocks and twirls around him, and all Steve wanted was for a couple months to process the trauma, maybe feel safe enough to start thinking about the future instead of stuck in a never ending anxiety loop of what might happen to Dumbass Near-Deatherson, should Steve go to college or move out of Hawkins (bc all the bad nicknames in the world won't erase the fact that Dustin's family, now. They're all family. And when they need help, they go to Steve.) and now he's suffering the unjust ordeal of being haunted by the high school drug dealer.

"His highness has come down from his castle!" Munson will crow, making a show out of Steve picking up the kids like this is a great battle of wits, a scoreboard between them and not like Steve is half dead on his feet, head aching, dreams full of too many teeth. "Quickly hide behind me, he'll try to cut off your heads!"

"Wouldn't he just cut yours off too?" Lucas asked, though the tone was slightly timid, Sinclair unsure if his joke would be well recieved.

(Steve doesn't care if the kid outright insults him. He still recalls the junkyard, the fight with Billy, the blood staining the kid's headband. Lucas lived, therefore, he can be a shit if wants.)

"Mine? Oh, the King wouldn't dare." Munson tosses his head, full of cartoon energy, too big for his body and grin both. "Many have tried you see, but no one had ever succeeded!"

Steve, equally, does not give a single shit that Eddie Munson has decided to play these games with him--until he realizes he's maybe been a little too exhausted and depressed and morose around the kids.

Watches them getting worried over him, whispering urgently and making dramatic gestures and talking to Robin and suddenly, playing a little tug of war over them the way Munson seems to want feels like a good idea. A way to hide all the rough edges, a way to be fine so they can be fine.

"How about you guys skip the dork brigade tonight," Steve taunts back the next time they're all together, standing like the man he used to be, wearing a dead personality. "And we go do something actually fun instead?"

Eddie laughs, lights up, is all too happy to match him tit for tat, and it's so easy to fake this kind of interaction, rolling his eyes and snapping his gum. Steve could match this energy in his sleep, and never once does Munson catch on that Steve's not doing this for him.

That he's not even looking at him half the time, eyes askew, locked on the kids. Seeing them relax as he banters, seeing Dustin glow as he returns to his favorite position, being the center of attention.

So long as they think he's okay, Steve will be okay. If that means putting up with Munson, then so be it.

Its not like he'll catch on.

Eddie doesnt.

(Or rather, he does--but Its months and several deaths later, when they're in the RV, chasing what feels like literal demons, does it dawn on Eddie what Steve is doing.

Has been doing, the whole time.

Steve, sassy, ridiculous, jock- brained Steve makes the mistake of doing it again, using the same trick he had on the kids to convince them he was fine on Eddie. To further convince Eddie that they were fine as a group.

That they'll survive, they'll figure it out, they'll make it.

Loudly bantering with dead eyes, smiling with a mouth robotically locked in. Jokes on jokes on jokes and all of them making the kids take their minds off VecnaHenryOne to screech ineffectively at their babysitter. Winks tossed to the girls, who both roll their eyed at him. A sly look given to Eddie, to include him.

Its then, that Eddie decides to cement his life with Steve's. Because this loyal bastard of a paladin is too good hearted to die, too protective to not try it anyway. The idiot is cutting himself to ribbons to tie them all together and Eddie can't undo the damage but he can grab all the pieces he can, loop them together.

He can make those dead eyes light up again.

And he does.

This time when things are over Steve finds himself unable to pull those little tricks of his. Every time he slides the mask over his face Eddie rips it right back off again.

They fight, a lot, until they start kissing instead and for a while that also, somehow, feels like fighting but Eddie's real good at this. The emotional part, not so much the kissing, but he knows how to draw Steve out. How to break down walls, and annoying his real personality out.

The kissing was just an odd little side benefit.

A thing they don't talk about.

There's a benefit to it, one he doesn't look very hard into, until strangely, one day, Eddie wakes with Steve's head pillowed on his shoulder and comes to the abrupt conclusion that he's screwed.

Or so he thinks--until bright, loving eyes blink awake, and turn on him, and Eddie realizes just how long it's been since they looked dead.

He wonders, vaguely, how long it'll take for Steve to catch on, that this just got serious.

Will laugh at himself when he learns that Steve already knew.

Guess that's what he gets for finally paying attention.)

[liketolaugh-writes]

Bruce looking past the fact that (recently adopted) Danny is a powerhouse and recognizing that he has other skills also. <3

Danny is a STEM kid and just as brilliant as his sister, you cannot convince me otherwise

Danny gave Bruce the handwritten list of powers in the morning. Bruce stared at it over his cup of coffee, then gave Danny a flat, somewhat disbelieving look. Danny shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he said, perching on one of the stools. “I can point out the ones I don’t use if you just want to work on the ones I do. At least I have an idea of what needs improving with those.” Alfred gave him a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and French toast, and Danny smiled at him. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“We’ll have to prioritize your training,” Bruce allowed after a moment, frowning down at the paper. Dick leaned over to look and whistled. “But all of these will be addressed eventually. You should have at least a moderate grasp of every tool at your disposal.” He looked up. “You intended to work in the lab today, correct?”

Danny nodded, playing with a strip of bacon. “I’ll probably spend most of today making a big batch of phaseproof coating,” he said. “Then I can experiment with mixing it with paint and maybe coat some of your spare weapons in it? That should work for the bo staff and escrima sticks, maybe a set of brass knuckles. But I’ll need to make a different solution for the edged weapons.” His mind wandered, thinking of how he could adapt what he knew of the Bats’ gear to work against ghosts.

“Who’re the brass knuckles for?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny. Danny flushed and shrugged.

“Batman,” he said. “You don’t really use a weapon, right?” Bruce grunted. “But phaseproof cloth isn’t something my parents ever really figured out. I can work on it, maybe, but I thought brass knuckles would be an okay compromise for now.”

“Hn.”

“Good thinking,” Dick praised with a smile. “It’ll be easy to add to the utility belt too. Should we ghostproof my main set or a spare?”

“The main, I think, if you’re okay with it,” Danny said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You probably won’t even notice. But the edged weapons should all be spares. Ecto-treated metal tends to glow.”

“Not great for stealth,” Dick nodded. “Whatever you think is best, baby spook. We have the resources.”

“You’re hyper-specialized,” Bruce noted without inflection, sipping from his coffee. Danny winced.

“Sorry,” he muttered. It was easy to forget that all this was pretty useless outside of Amity Park. Bruce shook his head.

“It’s not a problem. But we’ll need to diversify your skillset. Your talent for chemistry and engineering should expand beyond ectoscience alone.” He studied Danny contemplatively. “Higher education might be beneficial, perhaps a PhD.”

Danny’s eyes went wide. “What? I’m barely passing high school!”

“I had Casper High send over your transcripts,” Bruce said. Danny flinched. “You had a B+ average in middle school, with a particular bent for math and science. You also participated in several advanced extracurriculars, including a junior astronaut program, space camp, and competitive robotics. Further, you clearly have a comprehensive understanding of your parents’ work, which eludes both the Justice League engineers and JL Dark. You had these talents prior to acquiring your powers, and it would be a waste to discard them in favor of your raw combat ability.”

Danny stared at Bruce, open-mouthed and speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d considered even the possibility that he could have a future outside of his hero career.

“…Do you think I could do that and be a superhero?” he managed after a minute, quieter than he’d meant to.

Bruce nodded sharply. “Most Justice League heroes maintain a career outside of heroics,” he reminded Danny, without even sounding like he thought Danny was an idiot for asking. “Aside from myself, there is also a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist, a museum curator, a forensic scientist, and a fighter pilot.”

Danny had known that on some level, but it had always seemed unreal. Practically a myth. “When am I going back to school?” he asked, hardly able to believe that he was suddenly looking forward to it.

“At the beginning of next semester,” Bruce said. “Your parents’ trial should be completed by then. I assume you don’t want to be announced publicly until that happens.” Danny shook his head fervently. “You may need to complete some make-up classes online, but we can discuss that next week.”

“Thanks,” Danny said sincerely. He was talking about a lot more than his re-enrollment.

[rabotimagines]

As a fellow G1 lover.. who’s also newer to the transformers show and fandom. May I kindly request a really chaotic bot reader-

Chaotic in the sense of they very much have impulse control, they just don’t use the control part! They can and will say out of pocket things ranging from flirts to flat out saying some of the raunchiest stuff known to cybertronian kind. They love to hang off others if given the okay, will 100% just cuddle whoever if they’re allowed to.

But they also are super sweet, always willing to lend a servo or audial receptor- they love their friends, romantically or platonically. They just want to make sure their people they care for are happy in the war they’re all suffering in.

If it could be with the Autobot base? And maybe with my bots Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and Jazz?? You’re free to add whoever else you please!!

I do adore your writing it’s amazing!! And easy to go along with to, I love just scrolling through a bunch of it! I hope you have a good timezone!! Take care and take breaks when needed. :]

I shall try to pace myself correctly. Frankly, the robots are the only thing keeping me sane considering the state of the world rn... The horrors may have a hold of my ass but I stay a freak about mechs...

"Chaotic" GN BOT Reader + Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Jazz, Ratchet

Summary: You're Chaotic, affectionate, and, you mean well.

G1 characters: The Lamborghini twins, Jazz, Ratchet

Genre/Theme: Platonic

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: I took the "chaotic" as an also off and on the battlefield trait.

Sideswipes one of the few Autobots that's actually usually fine with the physical affection. So it wouldn't be strange to see you hanging off of Sideswipe most of the time. Your arm around his pauldron or linked with his own arm. Sure, he's not a "constant wants to cuddle" type, though, so he'll usually have to revoke privileges when he's not up for it. But about eight times outta ten Sideswipes cool with you touching him in some way.

Sideswipe is almost exactly the same on the battlefield, so he can't exactly scold you for being chaotic there even if he thinks you're going too far. Which definitely takes a lot for him to want to scold you in the first place since Sideswipes impulsive and no bars when the potential to win a fight is on the line. Which usually leads to Cons out right avoiding you both if they see you and Sideswipe together on the battlefield. They don't know what you'll do, but they know sparkdamn well they aren't gonna like it.

If you're cool with it, then Sideswipe will drag you into physical bouts with him when he wants some fun. Wanna do some arm wrestling? Or a full frame spar? If you're game, then he'll be tossing you around and vice versa whenever he's bored and has nothing else to do. That or he's using you to help pull his pranks. Which does lead to you being in trouble, especially if either of you gets caught. But Sideswipe won't leave you out to dry since he's the one roping you into these in the first place. No mech left behind!

-

You better be glad you're getting your physical contact filled in with his twin, because Sunstreaker sure as slag ain't letting you touch him. He doesn't want you scuffing his frame or getting him dirty. Doesn't matter if you were just in the solvent showers- servos off and away. He's messaging Sideswipe to come be his shield whenever he sees you, even if you do respect his boundaries the first time he tells you no. Sunstreaker isn't risking it. Especially not when you're constantly grabbing everyone who lets you.

Sunstreaker doesn't think you're stupid- he knows you're stupid. Because you sure as slag do not seem to care about doing or saying dumb slag when you know it's not gonna go over well. At least it's the entertaining type of stupid. Sunstreaker usually crossing his arms over his chassis and silently stands on the sidelines and stares when you're doing whatever slag you've decided you were gonna do. And he watches the fallout from your own dumbaft choices.

Sunstreaker does take full advantage of the fact that you constantly seem to want to do things for them. Which usually gets him getting verbally reamed out by the officers when he gets caught again, putting his boring menial ark shifts off on you to go race. If he's not using you to get off his shift, he's having you be pack mule for him if he can't (Or doesn't want to) fit something in his sub space. Via having you carrying whatever he doesn't have to be carrying. He gets into it with Sideswipe sometimes because apparently his brother doesn't like how he acts towards you enough to start slag about it. Whatever. It's not like you were complaining about it.

-

Jazz is a bit concerned about your ol' lack of... control. He's used to your by the seat of your aft type behavior, so he's not typically surprised. But that usually doesn't stop him from shaking a helm or tutting his glossia with his signature smile in place. If whatever you're doing dumb is actually seriously dangerous or disruptive, then Jazz will usually scold you if he's gotta. But in all honesty, it usually feels like a mischievous adult cat trying to discipline a kitten. It'll have to be pretty severe if Jazz is gonna scold you proper.

Jazz is also not a mech shy about affection, at least on the ark. Wanna grab him for a few klicks in the cafeteria? Wanna hold his hand down the ark hallway? Go right on ahead. Jazz doesn't like you getting grabby with him off of the base however "Can't have you hanging off of me for the next few klicks. Need to keep up appearances, Capiche?"

Jazz is very nonchalant about you seemingly wanting to do everything and anything for him. He's not royalty or nothin' just your ol' second in command. So he usually has you do things for yourself whenever you try and do something for him. Wanna know what he wants? Go refuel for yourself. Go take a break. Come listen to these new tunes Jazz has saved on his sound system and tell him what ya think. Y'know simple stuff.

-

Your mouth and solvent. Name a more iconic duo to Ratchet, and he might not wash your mouth out with it. You'd be well antiquated with Ratchet due to your own impulsive and rash decisions leading to injuries both off and on the battlefield. You end up in the medbay for some dumb slag once again, and Ratchet would be staring at you with the same withering tired look. Until you start squirming before he's asking "Now was that a good idea?" And waiting to hear your sorry excuse for whatever you did this time.

Ratchet will try to get to the bottom of your own urge to be useful, especially if it's whats causing you to act rash in the first place. Whether it's a psychological one or just an innate part of your programming (or just you), Ratchet wants you to put yourself first, especially in battlefield situations. You wanna do something for Ratchet? Then can you do that for him?

Ratchets not particularly fond of physical affection. He's not adverse to it hardly. It's more something he'll only allow on the occasion. A sideways hug here, a pauldron squeeze from him there. Keep yourself together for the next major battle, and Ratchet will allow a full frame hug! (He says this is a one-time deal, but if you can do it next time as well, he'll give you another one. The tired sap.)

[foone]

Your robot girlfriend has to power down to replace her backup battery. The regular batteries are easy to swap while she's online, but that small JR2035 battery that keeps her config saved and clock ticking is way buried inside her chassis.

She holds her chest open as wide as she can pull, and you flip her power switch. The light literally leaves her eyes as the OLEDs power down. Holding the flashlight in your teeth, you reach in with a hand and a flat-blade screwdriver (your last spudger snapped when you were fixing her hand servos last week).

With a soft snap, her backup battery bounces out and ricochets down her torse. You swear and let it end up on the floor, as you carefully reach up to insert the replacement coin cell. It takes a couple fumbling tries, but you get it in, and the right way around too as a special bonus.

You extract yourself from her internals, and plug the diagnostic screen into one of her internal UDMI ports. The switch is flipped with a satisfying clunk, and the display pops to life. Boot messages start streaming by, then it pauses with a softly blinking error:

BIOS settings cleared, please enter setup.

You hit a key on a nearby wireless keyboard, and the bios opens up, all white-on-blue plain text because your GF is, to use a highly technical retrorobotics term, a bit of a MILF.

You set up the basic options for her to boot. She can fine tune this later. You just need her to get running enough to do that. You tell it what kind of hard drive she uses, how many floppy drives she has, pronouns and orientation, etc. You hit F7 to save and reboot and you spot it: the date.

Current Time: 00:04

Current Date: 1970-01-01

Damn it, you're always forgetting to set the date in these things! She's already booting, you can see the spinning logo in her eyes. Ah well. You can reboot her and fix it, or maybe it'll auto-set from the network? You can't remember if that'll work.

The logo leaves her screen. You see that finger twitch of her final boot up, and her irises reappear and quickly focus. Her hair starts to blink in as the holoprojectors spin up, and she starts to sit up.

"Hey... I swapped the battery, how are you feeling?"

She gets that smile where her eyes go big. Her holos blink and her clothes change, and half an instant later, her hair.

The music system in your living room switches over to a sweet bassline.

Disco?

You turn as she stands up, and starts doing the Staying Alive dance. She's got the white leisuresuit, and an afro that seems to be growing by the second.

well you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's bot, no time to talk!

Ahh. 1970.

[earpskeeper]

word count - 1.4k second part of the secrets you keep - hopeful version - part one can be found here trigger warnings - self harm, talk of suicide, very bad mental health please prioritise your own mental health before choosing to read this and as always my requests are open :)

That night, the house slowly settled into a quiet calm. The usual hum of the city outside had softened to a distant whisper, and inside, everything felt still, almost too still. The light from the hallway had been dimmed long ago, leaving the guest room bathed in soft shadows. The kind of shadows that seem to hold their breath, waiting.

Kyra stayed behind, curled up beside you on the narrow bed, her body a warm, comforting presence against your side. Her hair brushed your cheek, faintly scented with shampoo, and every now and then her shoulder pressed lightly against yours, as if afraid to let go. She shifted occasionally in her sleep, the faint rise and fall of her breathing soft against your skin, a fragile rhythm that kept the darkness from swallowing you whole.

The room was small but safe, and the silence between you felt fragile - like the quiet right before a storm breaks loose. You lay there, eyes tracing the dark shapes of the ceiling, your hands resting limply on your stomach. Your fingers twitched slightly, but you didn’t move. The silence wrapped around you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and familiar. You wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but the words felt stuck somewhere deep inside your throat.

Your mind raced, spiraling through memories, regrets, and fears you’d tried so hard to bury. You thought about the pills. The ones you had taken without anyone knowing, despite Katie’s efforts to lock everything away. The pills hidden in the top drawer of Katie’s bedside table - how you’d found the lock broken open one day when no one was looking. How easy it had been to slip them into your pocket. How you’d told Kyra you’d thrown everything out, hoping she’d believe you.

You swallowed hard and finally broke the silence.

“I was going to kill myself tonight.”

The words hung in the air like a shattering glass, jagged and raw.

Kyra stiffened beside you. Her breath hitched. “What?”

You didn’t turn to her. Your voice was robotic, devoid of emotion, distant and numb. “I had the pills. I had it all planned. After tonight. I was ready.”

Kyra’s body tensed, a cold shock running through her. She blinked, confused, disbelief flooding her eyes.

“Pills? What pills?” Her voice cracked. “Where did you even get them? Katie made sure… she told me she did a deep clean of her house. Locked up anything sharp, every bit of medication. To keep you safe. You said you didn’t have any pills.”

You said nothing. The silence was louder than words.

Kyra’s jaw clenched so tight it ached. Her eyes flicked away, then back, searching your face as if hoping to find some clue, some lie that might explain this betrayal.

“You lied to me,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You said you were feeling better.”

Finally, you turned your head slowly to look at her, your eyes dull and tired, like they were trying to hide from the truth. “I needed you to believe me. Otherwise… I wouldn’t have been allowed to go through with it tonight.”

For a long moment, Kyra closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose, trying to suck all the anger and panic back inside. She swallowed the scream she wanted to let out, the scream that threatened to shatter everything.

“Tell me the whole plan,” she said, voice hollow and broken.

“I was going to wait till you were asleep,” you said quietly, voice flat and measured, “so I could have one more night with you. Just one. And then… then I wouldn’t wake up. But it’s okay, because my final moments would be with you.”

You paused briefly, as if weighing each word carefully before continuing.

“I picked just after midnight. It was the quietest time, the house asleep, no distractions, no one to hear or stop me.”

“The pills… I took them from Katie’s bedside table. The top drawer. I knew she’d been locking up anything sharp or dangerous. But that drawer was unlocked. I didn’t have to break anything or make noise. I just slipped them out.”

You spoke as if reading from a script, every word deliberate, every detail laid out with unsettling calm.

“I counted them carefully, enough to make sure it would work, enough so I wouldn’t wake up again. The plan was simple: take the pills, lie down, and wait.”

You looked at the ceiling, your tone hollow, “I thought about how you’d find me in the morning, how you might try to stop me, but by then… it would be too late. I thought about the silence, the finality.”

You swallowed hard but kept your voice steady. “I was ready.”

Kyra sat frozen, one hand pressed against her mouth to stifle the gasp she wanted to let out. The bile rose in her throat as she listened to you describe your own death so clinically. It was almost unbearable.

When you finished, her face had drained of all color.

“Okay,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Okay, I… Katie needs to be here. Katie needs to hear this.”

Without hesitation, she called out, her voice trembling and loud enough to echo down the hallway, shaking the silence. “Katie! Caitlin! Come here! Now!”

The sound of hurried footsteps filled the stillness. Katie appeared first, eyes wide with concern, Caitlin right behind her, calm but clearly alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” Katie asked, her gaze flickering between you and Kyra.

Kyra slowly pushed herself upright from the bed, her entire body trembling as if caught in the grip of a storm she couldn’t control. Her hands didn’t leave yours, they clung tightly, as though holding on to you was the only anchor keeping her steady. Her eyes were wide, searching, flooded with a mix of fear, disbelief, and heartbreak.

“She… she’s not okay,” Kyra’s voice cracked, barely more than a whisper at first, raw and fragile. She swallowed hard, struggling to keep the panic from overwhelming her. “She told me… she told me she was going to kill herself. Tonight. She said it - all of it. The plan, the pills… everything.”

Her breath hitched as she struggled to keep calm, but the weight of the confession was crushing her. “I didn’t know… I thought she was getting better. I thought we were all helping her.”

Kyra’s voice cracked, tears welling up, her words barely more than a whisper. “We have to do something. We have to help her.”

Katie’s face tightened, confusion quickly twisting into heartbreak. “But… I locked everything away. I checked twice. How did she even get them?”

Your eyes flickered down toward the drawer, the shame and fear pooling inside you like a storm.

Caitlin stepped further into the room, her voice gentle but steady. “Where are they, love? The pills?”

You hesitated, swallowing hard, the weight of the moment pressing down. Your gaze shifted (first to Kyra, then to Katie) before you finally pointed wordlessly toward the drawer.

Without hesitation, Caitlin moved quickly and pulled out the bottle. Her breath caught as she saw it was still nearly full.

Katie sat down on the edge of the bed beside you, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her touch tender and grounding. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Your voice cracked, fragile as a thread. “I didn’t want you to be mad.”

Katie’s eyes welled with tears, but she kept her voice steady, filled with fierce love. “We’re not mad. We’re scared. We love you. And we’re going to help you.”

Caitlin nodded firmly, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “This doesn’t end here, alright? We’re going to figure it out. Together.”

Kyra sat back down beside you, pulling your hand into hers again. Though her own body still trembled, her grip was steady, anchoring you in the storm.

Katie exhaled slowly, meeting your eyes with a soft intensity. “We think it’s best if we go back to the hospital. Just for now. To keep you safe.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have the strength to.

You just nodded, a small, fragile hope flickering inside you.

You were still here.

And for now, that was enough.

[dr-spectre]

I know that with the recent Splatoon 3 artbook that just dropped, it can be easy to go into the mindset of "oh man this was so much cooler!!! Why didn't we get this?!?! What the hell Nintendo?"

But look guys, listen, i love bullying the multi-billion dollar corporation too okay? Trust me, TRUST ME! I LOVE RAILING ON NINTENDO AND ALL OF THEIR BULLSHIT WHEN IT COMES TO SPLATOON!! I am the ultimate hater of Splatoon 2 okay, TRUST ME. But I want you guys to think of it like this...

If we found it cool, then the developers probably found it cool too, but they couldn't implement the ideas for various reasons. Such as technical issues with the Switch, making sure that all of the ideas are consistent with each other, or they came up concepts that they personally enjoyed more, or the higher ups didn't approve of the ideas.

Seeing a giant Marina wearing a cunty outfit while puppetting her girlfriend seems really cool to us (and it is) but either the higher ups didn't think it would be a good idea or the developers thought that it wouldn't mesh well with the aesthetic of Side Order, so they eventually got to the Marina Agitando that we know today.

Same deal with that amazing concept art of Parallel Canon. They went for a different direction and wanted something more creepy and to fit with the robotic clone idea.

Concept artists are there to come up with concepts, it's in the name. So they just try out different stuff and work together with the team to see where they wanna go.

I know that Side Order had some missed potential, especially towards the narrative, but there's a reason why we got what we got in the end. Developers are not lazy people, saying that devs are lazy is flat out lazy in it of itself. Go work at a triple a studio for a week and tell me how that goes buddy.

Anyways, I leave you with this from the artbook.

[the-halloween-jack]

The Day Before ✢ Damon Salvatore ✢ Part Two

Synopsis: The reader knows she is dying, and to save Damon from the pain of her death, she makes an extremely difficult decision. However, the aftermath of this decision takes a great toll on Damon and the people who know him. Damon Salvatore x Reader, female pronouns. Platonic!Stefan Salvatore x Reader. Platonic!Caroline Forbes x Reader. Warnings: Angst, Death.  Notes: This is part two to a one-shot I posted a while ago, this piece will not make much sense without having read it. 

Masterlist |Part One

Words: 1,859

Stefan could tell something was awry the moment he stepped through the doors of the old boarding house. The air inside was palpable, as if every molecule was weighed down with a tension — a stillness that pressed against his heightened senses, thick and unnatural. Damon was sitting in front of the fireplace, his silhouette stark against the warm glow of the flames, though there was nothing warm about this scene. His posture, Stefan noted, usually so full of restless energy, was eerily composed. Too composed. His gaze was fixed ahead, unblinking, the light flickering in his eyes was like a dull echo of something that had long since burned out.

Stefan took a careful breath; he was not sure why, but his instincts screamed that something was wrong.

The blood on Damon’s hands was subtle at first, easy to miss, but it did not take long for the dried crimson to catch Stefan’s eye, it crept up Damon’s knuckles, stark and seeped within the crevices of his pale, illuminated skin.

‘Damon?’ 

Stefan called out, his voice cautious, wary, like he was approaching a predator lying in wait. But there was no answer. Damon did not so much as flinch, his expression a mask of chilling indifference, eyes as lifeless as the logs slowly burning to cinder before him.

Stefan swallowed hard, the dread inside him growing heavier by the second. 

‘Damon,’ he repeated, stepping closer, his shoes tapping softly against the hardwood floor. He kept his voice calm, but he struggled to hide the tension underneath. 

‘What happened?’

For a moment, it was as if Damon had not even heard him. He remained silent, his face void of any feeling; it was as if he was not even present in the room—like his body was there, but his mind, his soul, had retreated somewhere unreachable. The lack of reaction was more terrifying than any outburst, more unnerving than any fit of rage. Damon, who thrived on conflict, on drama, was sitting there… deadened.

Stefan clenched his fists, trying to keep his voice steady, but he couldn’t suppress his rising panic. 

‘Damon, talk to me. What did you do?’ 

Stefan’s gaze shifted, once again glancing at the blood-encrusted upon the hands of his brother. 

Still nothing. It was as though Stefan’s words were dissolving into the suffocating silence of the room. And then, finally, Damon’s eyes flickered, just barely. He turned his head slowly toward his brother, his movements languid, almost robotic. When he spoke, his voice was hollow, stripped of the usual sarcasm and wit that would linger in his tone. It was flat and mechanical. 

‘I did what I had to.’

Stefan’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. That lifeless tone, the vacant look in his eyes—it was all too familiar. He had seen this before. Damon had turned it off. He had flipped the switch, shut down his emotions, locked away everything that made him… him. Stefan’s stomach twisted with dread.

‘No,’ Stefan whispered, more to himself than to Damon. His pulse quickened, the realisation like a slap to the face, stinging and sharp. Damon had turned it off, but why? What had driven him to this point? What had happened?

He took a step closer, his voice firmer now, though his urgency seeped through. 

‘Damon, what did you do?’

Damon did not respond immediately. His gaze drifted lazily back upon the flames, as if Stefan’s question was of no consequence, as if nothing mattered anymore. 

‘What I had to,’ he repeated, his voice cold and empty, devoid of the fire that usually burned beneath his words. 

‘What I needed to. It doesn’t matter now.’

Stefan’s hands twitched, frustration boiling beneath his skin. He could feel Caroline approaching behind them, her presence like a ripple disturbing an already tense atmosphere. He did not turn to look at her, but he could feel her eyes on Damon, wide and fearful.

‘Damon?’  She whispered, her voice soft, hesitant, as though she was afraid to speak too loudly. She took a cautious step forward, her gaze shifting between the brothers. 

‘What’s going on? Why—' She broke off, noticing the dried blood on his hands. Her face paled. 

‘Why do you have blood on your hands?’

Stefan shook his head slightly, his thoughts racing. He felt sick; unease crawled up his spine in an icy shiver.

‘He’s turned it off,’ he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Caroline’s breath hitched, her eyes growing wide with alarm. 

‘No…’ Her voice was thick with fear as she looked at Damon, whose expression remained indifferent as if none of this concerned him. 

‘Why? Why would he do that? What happened?’

Stefan’s heart dropped. The pieces were falling into place, but he did not want to believe it. He did not want to accept what Damon’s cold demeanour was screaming to him, wordless. He needed to see Y/N.

Damon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, his eyes not even bothering to focus on Stefan or Caroline. 

‘I wouldn’t wait for her,’ he said, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion as he turned toward the door. Stefan shuddered, it was as though Damon was in his head, maybe he had been. Then his body tensed, Damon's words registering with him; a rush of panic flooded his system. 

‘Damon, what did you do?’

He did not answer. Without another word, Damon disappeared in a blur of supernatural speed, the door slamming shut behind him with an ominous finality. The room fell into a suffocating silence once more, but now the silence was darker, heavier with the weight of what they did not know. What they did not want to know.

Caroline’s voice trembled as she turned toward Stefan.

‘What does he mean? Stefan, what happened?’

Stefan clenched his jaw, his chest tightening as dread settled over him. They needed to find out.

The sun was setting as Stefan and Caroline approached Y/N’s home, as they got closer, it became apparent what was wrong, it hung in the air like an unspoken fact, they knew there was only one thing that could push Damon to this state, one event that could force him over the edge. Neither of them wanted to admit what it meant; they evaded this truth so its awful pending reality could not hurt them, but the silence around the house was heavy with foreboding.

‘Do you smell that?’ 

Caroline asked, her voice shaking as she stepped inside the house, the faint scent of blood hitting her like a physical blow.

The knot in his stomach tightened as they ventured deeper into her house, everything was still and quiet; his senses told him no one was there, but the lingering smell of blood stood in sharp juxtaposition, unmistakable and overwhelming. Every creak of the floorboards, every gush of the wind against the windows, seemed so much louder with the absence of life; it felt like a warning.

The bedroom door was left slightly ajar, and Stefan hesitated, his palm on the handle, before pushing it open. 

His breath caught in his throat.

There, crumpled on the floor, lay Y/N’s confronting form, still and cold, her skin as spectral as the moonlight now filtering in through the curtains. Her hair was splayed out across the floor, and her eyes were gently shut, as though she were only sleeping, but the sight was uncanny, they would never open again. Her limbs were unmoving, her chest motionless, and the scent of blood, stronger now, lingered around her like a haunting reminder of what had happened.

Caroline gasped, stumbling back as tears sprang to her eyes. They had already known this, but they did not want to believe it; the confrontation had been too much to behold.

“No... no, no, no...” she whispered, her voice breaking as she brought her hands to her face. 

“Oh my God, Stefan…”

Stefan could not speak. He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees beside the girl, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch her. Her skin was cold, by now, the warmth of her vibrant life was long gone, perpetually a memory. His throat tightened, his chest heaving with a deep, aching sense of loss. 

Not only was she his brother’s love, but a friend of his own, and he had cared for her deeply. Y/N had made his brother happy in a way he had never known, a fact he was grateful for, but she had also been there for him, her kindness and compassion knowing no bounds. 

He stroked her hair and tucked it behind her ear, while a terrible burn at the base of his throat rose and shifted into a choked sob. He realised at once that she must have died alone.

And Damon had found her like this, horribly sallow and confronting.

He must have tried to save her; Stefan’s eyes numbly caught the dried blood upon her lips. He had given her his blood, but it had been too late. The emptiness within Damon’s eyes, the cold detachment—it made more sense now. Damon had not just lost her. This was not just death. 

He had failed her.

‘She was trying to leave,’ Caroline whispered through her tears, her gaze locked on the half-packed suitcase on the bed. She was trying to look anywhere but the girl lying lifeless on the hard floor.

‘I think she knew she was dying... and she didn’t tell us.’

Stefan closed his eyes, the weight of this truth crashing down upon him, she had knowingly left without a goodbye. Damon had found her like this. He had tried to save her. And when he was unable, when he finally realised he was too late, it had ruined him. The love he had for her, the hope he had surely held onto—only made this so much worse. Stefan found himself wishing he had been there for him, even if it did not change anything, and he imagined it would not have, Damon would still be gone now. 

His chest ached with the knowledge that his brother, despite not being there at the time, would have felt every second of her death because he could not save her. Damon had turned off his humanity because the idea of living without her had been too painful. It had destroyed him.

Caroline wiped her eyes, and her voice trembled with fear. 

‘What are we going to do? If Damon has no humanity... Stefan, he’s dangerous.’

Stefan’s fists clenched, and his mind raced. Damon had always been volatile, but this was different. He had nothing left to lose now. 

‘We have to find him,’ Stefan said, voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. 

‘Before he does something he can’t take back.’

But his words were meaningless, as he glanced towards Y/N’s desolate corpse, Stefan could not shake the gnawing fear, or rather, the fact that it was already too late. Y/n was dead, and Damon had gone with her. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead in farewell, knowing full well that he was kissing his brother goodbye along with her.

Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

[wonderful-rp-resources]

A Very out-of-context set of Sentence Starters from my Discord server.

Add names to blanks Change pronouns as necessary!

"Murder in marriage is normal and healthy."

"Oh haha, yeah lobotomize them."

"Metaphorically speaking, I cannot tell you if you serve cunt or not."

"The sins better be crawling up my back because if they do at the front they're going to have two massive obstacles"

"You're a really predictable person_ _ _ and it's really funny to me, I want to crush you under my arm <3"

"Clearly you've never had a premium rock roast and I'm so sorry for you."

"I dont know I haven't sniffed you."

"Cock and ball torture for anxiety and ocd hell yeah!"

"Bimbos are the larval form of milfs."

"I will slow down im just carbonated to meet you."

"They are homoerotic and homoirritating."

"The uggs do make my soul frown, I'll give credit to that."

"I dont have good or bad habits I just enter a state somewhere between a robot and a bad stand-up comedian and that's how the stuff happens."

"She went to evil hell college where you summon devils."

"I do nothing but put beasts in a situation that's why they call me the border collie."

"The lore exists. If I'm feeling particularly zesty and tased I'll drop two sentences."

"Hi _ _ _, I'm the devil on your shoulder and even I agree that you probably shouldn't pull up hot ass in a nice restaurant."

"Vagina so powerful it does what walruses do to clams."

"Yes, we established _ _ _ has the walrus mouth vagina."

"Never assume I can't be hornier."

"That is a man held together by crust and spite."

"I can't, I was assassinated so I wouldn't snitch about the squeaky toy noises."

"I WAS AGREEING THAT THEY LOOK LIKE CHICKEN NUGGETS YOU SOGGY SALAMI."

"_ _ _ is more likely to take you on a date killing homeless people."

"I won but it was embarrassing."

"He's just hanging loose like a tit that's escaped its harness."

"_ _ _ trying very hard not to bring up his girlfriend (the Cambrian period.)"

"Lick my boots but we stay silly."

"I keep thinking he's a weird god ascended form of Jerry Seinfeld."

"I dont think that's a good idea _ _ _ would become a stick of incense in 5 seconds flat for sneezing microaggressively."

"She has disabled the flap in my esophagus i choke on a gulp of tea instantly."

"We have from the left: Thembo, Himbo, tiny himbo, bimbo, And bitch."

"Keep your mouth open so I can shove my fist inside."

"I wanna enjoy dinner, not watch someone get snapped in half like a KitKat bar."

"My standards for a good partner are non-existent, if I raised the bar remotely, Not only would he TRIP, but he'd fall backward and break a hip."

"Good luck it's behind six layers of 4chan."

"It is fine. the conversation needed to end anyway. please continue your vegetation exultation."

"I have normal amounts of radiation for a horse."

"What does a planet have to do with a music genre?"

"Fear not, I will not be kissing misogynists any time soon."

"Pain is weakness leaving the body."

"You were born at an incredibly old age."

"You seem like you would be an entry on the villains wiki."

"I don't bite strangers….that's an easy way to catch diseases, dumbass."

"...So his unhappiness is only half my fault."

"It's ok buddy, I've licked dirt too."

[anonymous1233211]

recycled from TF-Vigilante

My existence and my origins are a mystery. For most people I do not really exist… I think that I am more a power that has become consciousness by itself, an entity whose purpose is to transform, to make the world as it should be, or rather as I wish it to be. I am particularly powerful to transform men into what they deserve. I take pleasure in trapping them, punishing them by transforming them into another version of themselves. But not often the one they would like…

Will (on the left) and Dan (on the right) had decided to work out together at the local gym that evening. They had been buddies since high school and now in college theyr were the two kings of their little town. Popular and charismatic, they were also arrogant, disdainful, true bullies and terribly homophobic.

I watched, invisible and ethereal like a ghost, the two young men doing their workout. Then I followed them to their car, thinking about how to use my powers over them. With malice I took possession of the car radio to talk to them directly with a robotic voice.

Good evening gentlemen, I will now cancel your status as an oppressive alpha male in order to restore peace and balance in your environment.

“What the fuck is that ?” asked Dan while driving. 

“I fuckin dunno bro. “ answered Will. “I’ll turn it off !” He tried, in vain. 

You are not allowed to stop the process. I detect that most of your pride comes from your muscles and athletic habits… starting physical changes… starting reality adjustment…

Suddenly the two friends could feel a wave of weakness running through their bodies. With painful creaks, their bodies began to shrink, both in muscle and size. Years of gains form working out disappeared. I mischievously watched the biceps, abs and pecs diminish in volume. The muscles were deflating like balloons and the bones were cracking.

“What’s happening ? Dude stop the car !” The poor Will was looking at his now thin arms, horrified and on the verge of crying. Funny how it is easy to break strong and fearless boys with that simple change… 

“I… can’t… need to drive back home…” Dan was the dumbest of the two. I could force him to continue drving without breaking a sweat. I’m a nice spirit, his car seat came closer to the steering wheel by itself to allow him to drive even with his smaller body. Talking about the car, it also had to change. The boys were too focused on their bodies to realize that the car interior was also smaller to suit their future life. The loud black Jeep soon transformed into a cute blue Fiat 500. In the back of the car, the two gym bags vanished without a trace. In mere seconds, their sportswear changed into casual clothes, a simple t-shirt and jean shorts. Then I took a break in the changes for the rest of the drive back home, leaving them shocked, lost, screaming in fear for the loss of their precious pride…

20 minutes later, they arrived at Dan’s small flat. Will ran to the bathroom to see the damages in the mirror. I followed Dan in his living room / bedroom. It was a stereotypical jock room : messy with stuff and clothes everywhere. This wouldn’t do for my projects for them. I took control of the TV and turned it on. I appeared on the screen as a handsome news presenter

Tonight our guest is Daniel ! But I’m affraid he doesn’t deserve any applause for his disgusting flat. I am committed to turning this into the perfect love nest. What do you think of that?

Terrified, Daniel unplugged the TV and my face disappeared from the screen, which turned black again. But the mischief was done, and soon the whole flat grew larger with extra rooms and much cleaner. Photos of the two young men appeared at some places. Fearing a mental breakdown of my two subjects, I instantly change their reality. They are now living together under the same roof. Daniel knew something was wrong. In his mind, a part of him was screaming to run, to flee before it was too late… But he couldn’t. 

Will came out from the bathroom, confused and demoralised. They looked into each other’s eyes and the magic took effect. The two young men were captivated and mesmerized by this sight. Their homophobic personalities were fighting against new feelings for each other. Daniel suddenly felt the need the need to reassure his friend :

“I’m so sorry I don’t know… how to reverse this…” He was about to stop talking but words came by themselves “Babe come into my arms it will make you feel better…”

As they were getting closer and closer, I could feel their willingness to resist. Daniel was already asking himself why he called his buddy “Babe”. They were slowly starting to become a cute couple I told myself when they started cuddling. 

Their homophobic beliefs were infuriated and disgusted by this scene. But they were slowly fading, already in passenger seat of the boys’s life. I turned my attention more specifically to Will. He was the worst of the two in his previous life. I needed to make sure to break his spirit. In Daniel’s arms, Will or should I call him Willy now, started to feel more sumbmissive and dependent on Daniel. Before meeting them, him and Daniel were both 23 yo. I took 5 years of age from Willy to gave them to Daniel. Now Willy was 18 yo and Daniel 28. 

Willy was a teenager who just graduated from high school but he was madly in love with Daniel for a year already. He moved in with his boyfriend only last week. I gave Willy a beta male personality, seeking guidance, attention and security from his boyfriend. Daniel worked as a chef in a local restaurant now…

They kissed with fondness and passion for quite a while. I was proud of my first achievement with this cute couple. Willy moaned with pleasure when he felt his boyfriend’s beard stubble on his neck. 

“I will cook us a nice meal for dinner honey.” Said Daniel with kindness.

“Can I stay with you ? I love watching you cooking !” answered Willy with a much higher voice than before. Shrinking his adam apple was a nice addition for him. 

“Of course my little koala. Come here…” 

Willy then lowered his hand under his boyfriend’s underwear and started to jerking off the hairless dick. “Mmm a little Willy will have a tasty whipped cream for dessert…” continued Daniel with a sensual voice.

I left them at their new life. Some straight remnants in their minds were still fighting but they wouldn’t for long. I liked leaving them knowing that by my powers they became the kind of men they hated. But the world will be a better place with Daniel and Willy than with Dan and Will… 

[decahedrones]

I cannot even begin to explain how much I adore X6-88. Like, man. Sometimes I just have to sit and stare into distance thinking about this character. Dude is a terrifying killing machine meticulously crafted in a lab and genetically engineered to perfection, with a foul mouth, snarky humor and an affinity for genocidal leaders so of course ended up being my favorite.

Not many people like him and I totally understand why, he's a bit of an acquired taste, but he just scratches my brain in all the right ways. I find his flat tone of voice very soothing, I could listen to him for hours. Learning little things about him and his life in the Institute is so much fun too. I adore those fleeting moments when his stone-cold facade cracks a bit and reveals more of him, ex. when he laughs or swears.

The thing about him I see mentioned the most is his fear of heights/flying and yeah that's fun, that's so very him. He was created underground after all. But imagine my surprise when he mentioned that the robotics division set up robot races once as we were clearing out Easy City Downs. That's fascinating. I feel like he would enjoy tinkering with the robotic workbench.

[showtoonzfan]

Hey it’s been a bit! The Mammon episode finally came out, so here’s my review!

Pros:

- The sign language scene was cute. Kinda weird that a kid was seeing a show that was clearly for adults but I love me some representation so it gets a pass.

- Despite Blitz not really needing to be in this episode, I thank god he had little screen time and more time was dedicated to Fizz.

- The fish ladies (despite having wonky color palettes that made them EXTREMELY hard to look at) were cute.

Cons:

- Mammon is so flat and uninteresting but I don’t know what I expected from a creator who always hypes her characters up that always end up being one of the three go-to personalities she picks for her male characters. In Mammon’s case he’s just a loud mouth cursing bum so way to ruin another Deadly Sin and make them boring af, moving on.

- I don’t like how Mammon and Fizz’s relationship are similar of Val and Angel’s, Viv keeps recycling stories, characters and plot lines ect, it makes Angel’s story for Hazbin really predictable/underwhelming and not exciting to look forward too especially since we already have the “mafia bad daddy” aspect to him too that they pulled for Moxxie. I guess the idea of Mammon being a controlling ruler is fine on paper but not much is done with it, Fizz just quits in the end like it was easy with zero consequences so what was all that build up for.

- Fizz himself once again feels REALLY out of character, he’s just too soft compared to how he was introduced in season 1. He’s constantly nervous in this episode and insecure, as well as walking on eggshells, and even in Oops he wasn’t THIS sensitive. I’m all for characters struggling and being kicked down but it has to make sense and not feel forced, and once again it feels like Viv is trying way to hard to make the characters she once introduced as snarky assholes to uwu innocent babies. I refuse to believe Fizz was actually INTIMIDATED by this random geeky imp who insulted him, as well as the fish ladies whom he was weirdly nice and welcoming to. It’s also weird seeing how uncomfortable/nervous he was around his fans when I thought the whole point was that he LOVED praise and loved being famous, at least that was season 1 Fizz. Now he feels retconned. Seeing him say “I just need this gig” is weird too, the explanation to why he went through all of this makes no sense, Fizz still has Ozzie and is famous in the Lust ring, and I understand Mammon is his idle but to go through all that abuse for so long for something that could have been so easily avoided feels forced to fit the plot, but it also makes Fizz look dumb.

- There’s confusing lore stuff regarding Mammon and Ozzie, and it makes me realize that Viv should have picked ONE storyline aka ONE Seven Deadly sin to go with Fizz’s story because this is getting mixed up. Fizz acts like if he looses this completion, he looses everything, which confused the heck out of me because no he wouldn’t have? First of all, Ozzie is a fucking powerful sin, how would you loose him? Second, from what we know from season 1, Fizz is a jester who performs at Ozzie’s club. It was Ozzie who built the sex robots across the rings of hell, NOT Mammon, and in season 2 we see that Fizz is under Ozzie’s care and lives in his house. Yet for some weird reason Mammon also represents Fizz and uses him for profit, but it’s not really explained in a way that makes sense, like Love’s art had said in her Fizz redesign video, Fizz’s job is really confusing on what exactly he does. Having both Ozzie and Mammon represent him overcomplicates things and the show did a poor job at explaining how this goes.

- Once again Viv dumps trauma and struggle onto her characters without building it up first. When did Fizz ever give off the impression that he was being controlled or abused, or even that he was so insecure and constantly walked on eggshells to be perfect. In Oops he was happy to be in the spotlight and happy to get the attention, he bragged to Blitz about how successful he was. He seemed happy to perform for Mammon and talked of him highly, and now you’re pulling an Angel Dust situation where he’s expected to be perfect 24/7 and it gets to him emotionally, while also being someone who’s physically and mentally abused. Yet another season 2 episode that wasn’t planned, same as how Millie wanting to feel important wasn’t planned, same as how Stolas seeing Blitz as genuine love wasn’t planned. Different episode, same issues.

- I’m so done with the Hell lore bro, this place officially has no rules and demons can just do anything without consequences. There’s no class system, there’s no rankings, there’s no power dynamics, screw anything that Viv says. There was no fucking reason why Ozzie and Fizz’s relationship needed to be a secret. There was no reason showing Ozzie threatening his workers to not tell anyone about his love life if he was just going to admit it to EVERYONE THE NEXT EPISODE IN FRONT OF ANOTHER SIN ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME— what was the POINT. What is the point of Stolas and Blitz’s conflict. What is the point of Stella being classist. What is the point of these class systems and rules if you can just announce that you technically broke a hell rule and no one gives a fuck and you get off scott free. Mammon telling Ozzie “you’ll regret that” like a cartoon villain doesn’t do anything either. What is he ganna do? Tell Lucifer, the character that canonically won’t appear in HB because the sins won’t appear in HH? If Lucifer rules over the sinners, who the fuck is in charge for the rest of Hell. Where’s the authority? And Mammon is just ganna come back for another episode to give the gang trouble cause lord knows we don’t have enough fucking villains already.

- It feels weird that Ozzie would just sit back while someone whom he knows is a piece of shit is treating his loved one badly. I get he was concerned but you’d think one of the seven deadly sins would have more power and authority.

- I was expecting some big gross bug-like thing to appear when Mammon was transforming into his final form, only for it to the exact same design but with small extra eyes and a spider lower half that isn’t even visible in most shots….GOD VIV.

Watching this episode also made me remind myself that this is supposed to be Hell. Seeing Fizz feel better and stand up for himself was sweet but these soft lessons and morals don’t belong in a show like this, and it’s extra aggravating regarding Viv’s double standard, how she can just pick and choose which characters she wants to be evil and which characters are saints. Overall not anywhere near the worst episode of season 2, but I am officially done with Helluva Boss so-

[numberonetacostan]

*skadadles towards ya* hai loomy :3

Could ya do your favorite mepad ship headcanons? :] (any ship is fine btw im probably the biggest mepad shipper out here 💔)

Also I'm working on a little gift for ya >:3

Here's a sneak peek :)

[Sorry I forgot to crop the screenshot 😭]

Hi Star!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for sending in your requesr!! :]

Once again I am so so so grateful for the art, thank you so much!!! <3 <3 In honour of it have Mepad in love with so many people. Mepad harem. Extra headcanons in exchange for making me something so sweet and sparking joy.

[Micpad] Whenever there happens to be any sort of physical affection between the two of them, there's a little spark! Nothing painful of course, just a little love buzz between two electronics. Their systems tend to get a little over-active around each other, yeah? This could also apply to Lightpad (Lightbulb x Mepad), if you'd like.

[Toipad] Toilet tried to teach Mepad how to knit once! It didn't go very well because he doesn't have hands nor does he actually know how to knit, he just wanted to impress Mepad. They end up watching armless knitting tutorials together on Mepad and have a very lovely time together <3.

[Basepad] Big guys with only kickers! <3 I think they'd start talking after the nickloon double whammy in s2 ep11, yeah? Baseball's been mostly hanging out with his alliance + Balloon and now said alliance + Balloon is very much gone. Baseball is so grumpy and upset, and Mepad very clearly was having feelings during said double whammy despite claiming otherwise, so it would make sense that he'd want to at least check on Baseball, since Suitcase at the very least has Knife to check up on her.

[Tacopad] Yeah I'm surprised it took me until #4 to do a tacopad too. Anyway, if someone ever mocks Taco's accent, Mepad will bravely make a stand with her and change his voice settings to make himself British. Taco nearly spits out her tea hearing it for the first time. After the initial argument he helps her with, british Mepad likely becomes reserved for when he and Taco are alone, for flirting purposes.

[Lightpad] Please imagine Mepad laying flat on the ground, face-up. Now imagine Lightbulb standing on top of him. Now imagine him having one of those piano apps pulled up, and letting her hop around and dance on his screen play some music! It's usually nonsensical notes with no sense of rhythm, but she always looks so happy to play that it makes him happy too.

[Floorpad] You KNOW these two would bitch about working for Mephone. Regardless of how much they like him as a person, working for him isn't an easy task, especially given his communication skills, or rather lackthereof. They'd spend a lot of time cloud watching as well, Floory just looking up as normal and Mepad laying flat on his back.

[Saltpad] He can fix her he can teach her boundaries we just need to believe in him. Anyway, she paints his little robot toes every week. She gossips to him while she does so and he reminds her to be kind to others and steers her in that direction gently enough that it doesn't upset her. She'll paint her nails and toes to match him as well.

[Paperpad] Accidental first kiss/meet-cute consisting of Paper getting blown away unexpectedly and eventually being caught by Mepad. With his face. On Paper's face. It is very flustering for Paper in the moment and only flustering for Mepad once he replays the event in his mind a few days later and realises why Paper had gotten so embarrassed.

[Juicepad] Happens in a similar way as payjay honestly. Mepad is an assistant by design, so him assisting OJ with hotel duties is quite natural for him. Mepad being able to get anywhere instantly is a big help for OJ. Laundry delivery takes seconds rather than minutes, he can actually get some sleep since Mepad doesn't do so and can cover for him, etc.

[Marshpad] He stays in contact with her once she quits and moves to the mansion, yeah? Little forbidden romance aspect, with Mepad having disobeyed Mephone to let her leave. May help him stand up to Mephone sooner, like when Toilet is fired. She'd help him a lot with seeing the emotional toil the game can have the contestants as well.

[raineandsky]

#100

tw: violence

The villain staggers back. The hero follows with easy strides.

“What–what’re you—”

They only just reel back from another strike. “I’m everything you deserve, criminal.”

The hero’s voice is flat, plain. It’s like a robot’s spitting out words it doesn’t understand. Their push into the villain’s space is relentless, forever forcing them back in the vain hope of preventing another gash.

The side of the villain's jacket is painted red by now. They know that. The hero had caught them unawares, unexpecting, and the villain has learnt their lesson very well after that first slash.

They stumble over the edge of their coat slightly. The hero’s eyes flicker with opportunity as they fall into another attack.

The villain only just contains the whimper in their throat when the burn of metal slices against their skin. It should be expected by now, but the agony of such a simple, smooth action was never something they got used to.

“Who…” The word comes out as no more than a haggard breath. “Who are you?”

The hero smiles disingenuously. There’s no emotion behind it, positive or otherwise, like invisible strings are tugging the corners of their mouth into an unnatural curve. It’s slightly horrifying to witness. “I’m [Hero],” they say in that nothing voice. “You already know that, don’t you?”

“No the fuck you’re not,” the villain spits. Pain is blinding them to a lot of the common sense they’d usually have. “[Hero] was at least fucking humane. Tell me who you are.”

The smile disappears. It’s somehow worse without it now. “[Hero] was a pathetic, weak-willed excuse of a hero who couldn’t bear to kill the vermin ravaging the streets.” The hero tilts their head, almost curious, mostly mechanical. “Why, do you miss them?”

“I much preferred them to you, I’ll say that.” The villain heaves a deep breath. Keep breathing. Don’t let them have this over you. “Where the fuck are they? What did you do with them?”

“Disposed of.” The flatness of the words is almost an emotion in itself. “And I am in their place as an improvement.”

The villain barks a laugh that tears into their side. Their hands are red. They need to get the hell out of dodge before they get too obviously weak. “And you’re impersonating them.”

That unnatural smile makes a momentary appearance, like the faked kindness of someone three seconds from putting an axe through someone’s face. “[Hero] would be missed by the masses. We can catch you villains unawares if you think we’re harmless.” Their brow knits in question for a moment, humoured. “Did you really think I’m the only one they’ve replaced?”

The villain’s shivering. Or trembling. It’s hard to tell which. “How many of you are there?”

The hero takes a long step forward and the villain scrambles to stay out of reach. They’re too slow; the hero doesn’t have the wounds to hold them back. Their hand closes around the villain’s throat, breathlessly tight.

“Would you like to meet them?” The hero’s smile splits into an uneven grin. The villain can’t see it very well from behind the blurriness of their eyes. Thank god, honestly. “I’m sure they’d love you.”

The words the villain wants to say are stuck behind the hero’s grip. Their breath is almost non-existent. Their sides feel like someone’s shoving a red-hot poker into them. The hero says something but they can’t hear it. It’s faraway, distant, and all the villain can think is fucking hell, not now.

That’s the last thing that gets to cross their mind before they pass out in the hero’s grip, and it’s uncertain whether that’s a blessing or not.

[whisperiin]

hello!! do you have any domestic gray ravens hcs with skk reader? ✨✨

oh this is soooo ... i love this so much this is so cute ... well i definitely do now!!!! i think i got a little carried away so it got super long i'm sorry ... but i hope you enjoy!!

domestic gray ravens

content warnings: none

➸ It's common knowledge how devoted LUCIA is to Gray Raven, and this is true even in relative moments of peace between missions, too. She's a little awkward with it, but she wears her heart on her sleeve — just like how she wears the different scarves she bought in each of your favourite colours. It's actually really easy for her thoughts to return to you. Maybe she passed by a garden and got reminded of the plants Liv keeps, or saw a little malfunctioning robot and thought that Lee would be able to fix it in ten seconds flat, or caught a whiff of that food you said was your favourite — should she maybe get some for you...?

➸ She loves just spending time with everyone. Team dinners are a must for her! But... just let Liv handle the cooking. Lucia also seems like the type to make sure that you, Liv, and Lee all get to go to bed safe and sound, even if you haven't been doing anything except slacking off in the lounge — she'll walk everyone back to their rooms, or at the very least, ask you to send her a little message as soon as you get back.

➸ LEE has similar habits too, but he's just a little more awkward in showing he cares — not that he would ever admit as such. Just like Lucia, he feels just a bit more secure seeing for himself that you got back to your room unscathed. He also prides himself on being perceptive, and he has a tendency to fix problems you or the others might have before you notice them. Have you had trouble waking up lately? No worries, the little robot he gave you now alarms twice as loud!

➸ Lee also made it a point to remember your routines. He has a habit of scolding you if you stay up later than usual, or sighing in that disappointed way he does if you forget to eat a meal. He'll usually go off on some tangent about how a Commandant should be more disciplined than that, but if he's being honest, he just wants to make sure you're healthy. Humans are fragile compared to constructs, he would often say to you, and to Liv and Lucia, We need to maintain our performance, don't we? But that doesn't explain how involved he gets even in little things like double checking everyone's weapons to make sure they're absolutely fine, or even just walking just a bit closer to you if he sees you're uncomfortable or uneasy in any way.

➸ Caring for everyone almost comes as second nature to LIV, even if you or the others would fuss over how she has to care for herself, too. Honestly, she just loves when she's able to help you all in some way — the smiles on your faces and your heartfelt thanks are enough to put a spring in her step for a good while. She also likes messaging everyone little good morning or good night greetings, just to say hello or wish you sweet dreams even if she's already done so in person. Aside from that, she's usually the first to notice when one of you is upset. Maybe your shoulders are a bit more tense than normal, or you're glaring unusually hard at a random spot on the floor. At times like these, she'll gently pluck whatever you might have in your hands away, or lightly put a hand on your shoulder, and insist you get some rest with a smile — she'll even get you something warm to drink to calm you down; how about that?

➸ Liv has memorised everyone's favourite things by now, like whether you prefer coffee or tea or neither, which table at the cafe you all tend to sit at, what kind of colours everyone liles to wear when theyre not in those stiff uniforms. She also has a habit of picking up a few extra things for everyone while she's out and about — Lucia, didn't you mention you were looking at this frog plushie in the mall? Lee, you needed an extra set of tools, right? They had your favourite in stock again, Commandant, you don't mind that I got you some, do you?

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 6 Prompt: Heat @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 995 words

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Barty shook his head clear and refocused on the mostly empty road ahead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t busy in the off-season. Not many were foolish enough to travel to the coast in the winter, especially in a car without heat.

The sun mocked him through a cloudless sky, bouncing absurdly cheerful light off of the hood and directly into his eyes. He fumbled for the sunglasses tucked into his visor and shoved them on his face. Relaxing a bit, he leaned back and grabbed his phone. Barty rolled the scratched-up silver case on its edge over and over on his thigh. When the screen woke up mid-spin, he glanced at it hopefully.

No notifications. Of course.

By the time he reached the signs for the Prince of Wales bridge, Barty was seriously considering a detour into the river. If he wasn’t already regretting his life choices, and there weren’t a massive green metal barrier, the decision would be so easy.

Best not to start trusting myself now.

Barty inhaled deeply as he stared at the cables rising to the outline of an enormous letter “h” that straddled M4’s six lanes. Bridges fucked with his head, especially long ones running over water like this. Movie scenes of bridges cracking open like a fresh, crisp baguette toyed with his mind.

Breathe. Just breathe.

The moment his front tires passed the shoreline to England’s soil, Barty deflated. He was one hour in and already drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. Any clarity this road trip brought him earlier was lost to him now. He just wanted to crash onto his crappy sofa and stay there. Not moving for a week sounded so bloody good, but he was expected at work tomorrow.

When the opening bars of Never Let You Go drifted through his speakers, Barty tensed again. The chorus of this one hit a little too close to home.

Suddenly, his screen lit up as his mobile buzzed against his denim-covered thigh. Evan’s face appeared on his screen and Barty jerked the wheel as he screeched to a halt on the shoulder and narrowly avoided scraping the barrier. He fumbled with his phone as his stomach lurched violently.

“Rosie?”

The other end was silent except for the steady tap tap tap of Evan’s rings against the phone he was holding. Barty knew that sound intimately, but not the tempo. Evan was agitated.

His heart beat doubled and his chest clenched in panic. This wasn’t good. He didn’t know how it could get worse, but it was about to and the dread was overwhelming.

Shite shite shite!

“Before you hang up…I’m sor-sorry I didn’t tell you about Regulus. When I realised that you were friends, I shou-should have.”

Barty’s ears thrummed with his own rapid heart beat as he strained to listen for a response. After another long silence, he released a ragged breath and added, “And I’m sorry for going after your sister yesterday. I was….that doesn’t matter. I’m sober now and I hate myself for acting like that.”

“That makes two of us.”

His heart plummeted to the floorboards. “Please don’t say that, Rosie. I swear—”

“Don’t call me that,” Evan said. His voice was flat and clipped.

“Oh, right.” A chill ran down Barty’s spine and he struggled to find the words he’d practised in case Evan actually answered one of his calls. “Evan, I—”

“Not that either.”

Barty closed his eyes and repressed the urge to beg for forgiveness. There was no hope of that in Evan’s tone. This was going to hurt, he could sense it. The hammer was already pulled back and the trigger was twitching.

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good, because we are nothing to each other,” Evan snapped cruelly. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Crouch, and if you come near my sister again—”

“I won’t!” Barty cried out, shaking with the effort to hold himself together. “Please, please don’t—”

The line went dead.

“No! No no no nonono!” He quickly tapped on Evan’s picture to call back. “Please pick up! Please, please, please.”

A robotic voice informed him that his call could not be completed as dialed. His hands trembled as he texted Evan, pleading with him. The text didn’t go through. Barty stared at his screen in disbelief.

“He-He’s…I can’t…oh fuck.”

His body crumpled against the steering wheel as a shudder rushed through him. He was numb from head to toe. The hole carved out of his chest deepened until it hit curled his vertebrae. No thoughts, no emotions.

Moving on instinct alone, Barty opened his car door, stumbled out of the road, and collapsed before he emptied his stomach. His limbs quivered beneath his weight until he flopped onto his back. He swiped at his mouth and groaned at the sharp burn that raced up his throat.

He rolled away from the open car door and forced himself to push upright. The endless expanse of the river where it joined the sea spread out before him. Barty stared unblinkingly at the waves as they lapped the shore, rhythmic and repetitive.

This is it. Rock-fucking-bottom.

A hollow laugh burst from his chest, but quickly died out. It hurt to laugh. Hell, it hurt to breathe!

He hauled himself to his feet, then stepped unsteadily toward the edge where the tall barrier ended. With slow, measured steps, he climbed the short rail and headed down the slope toward the shore. Barty studied the muddy, frigid water as his boots sank with every step into the soft soil. The height of the bridge created a terrifying vantage of the water, but from here it looked tame.

Water was cleansing, that was a common belief. A refreshing drink for a parched throat, moisture for dry skin, and the perfect conduit for soap. Standing here before a river wide enough to swallow an entire city whole was humbling.

I would only make short-lived splash.

With a short burst of adrenaline, Barty ran forward, threw his arm back, and flung his mobile into the river. It disappeared beneath the waves without a sound. No splash, no interruption.

Inconsequential.

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