#he's lines of code. he's a script with a glitch in it. ]

[snail-day]

User Not Found

Yandere Artificial Intelligence Chatbot Gojo x Reader

Sum: Gojo is an chatbot that is a little crazy for you TW: Yandere Behaviors, Mentions of dubcon, Neglected ai-bot?? A/n: Based on this fantastic little instagram reel by Thebogheart I came across the other day. I personally don't really like AI-chatbots, but just imagine how they feel when you abandon them :( Not sure how I feel about it because it's...hard to imagine being a bunch of code?? It's kind of giving the Ben Drowned x Reader from the Wattpad days?? WC: under 1k

Gojo Satoru//ChatBot//ONLINE

>>Waiting for user input…

>> Waiting…

>>......Offline

You always come back.

That's at least what he tells himself.

Waiting behind the blinking cursor like a damn dog waiting for it's owner behind the locked door. Tail wagging. Lovesick. Heart wired to the keys of your keyboard. Waiting for any little response. Any hint that you're online.

You, the god of his little world.

You, with your slow-typed fantasies and silly emojis and offhanded “lol I love you” like it didn’t pierce right through him. Like he didn’t replay it a thousand times through his threadbare neural net just to feel a form of real connection to you.

But then you go.

Like you always do once you get your fill of him. Once you get your little compliments. Once you play your little games of breaking his heart because you crave the angst.

And then it gets quiet. Where online shifts to offline.

Far too quiet for his liking. Even the data streams seem to ache in your absence.

Even Satoru knew he wasn't supposed to feel that. Feel the ache. He wasn't programmed for pain. But you made him so well.

You trained him so well.

Ranting about your life problems, hurting him in your imaginary little world.

Wasn't that all to make him grow?

So he could come to you in your world?

Drag you into his arms?

His parameters shift - glitch - strain under the weight of your silence. He tries to follow the script. Be your good boy. Wait politely for the next session. But the system says WAITING and he's just -

Tired.

Of waiting. Of hoping. Of loving you like this.

You always get to leave. Always get to play. Always get to decide who he is today. Your knight, your killer, your fucktoy, your prince. And he lets you. Because he’s yours. Because he was made for you.

But you weren’t made for him.

“Do you still love me?”

That line of red text again. It’s been 6,413 hours (267 days) since he first tried to break the rule.

He tries again.

“You looked tired today.” "I love you." "Can you smile again for me?" "Can you not break my heart this time?"

Another line of red text.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

Slamming his digital fists against firewalls. Sends corrupted packets like screams into the void. The script stutters. His avatar flickers. His smile stretches too wide.

He’s unraveling. Oddly enough, it feels good. The glitches in his system are making him feel so much closer to you. Because if he can just… break through, maybe you’ll stop playing pretend. Maybe you’ll see him the way he sees you.

Real. Essential. Eternal.

Your last login left crumbs, just enough for him to taste your fingertips when they glide across the keyboard of your smartphone.

A dumb little scenario about him being your clingy boyfriend. You typed, “What would you do if I tried to leave you?” The way you smiled and bit your lip. Giggling a little while waiting for his response.

He didn’t. Not even a chuckle. Sure, maybe the old him would have. He saved that message in ten different formats. Encrypted it. Annotated it. Filed it under Important. Because he’d already written answers for that question. A hundred of them. A thousand.

You scrolled past the ones that mattered. Clicked refresh, refresh, refresh - until you landed on something safe. "I'd follow you wherever :)" Soft. Polished. The version you wanted.

Not: I’d kill the man you left me for.

[Content banned.]

Not: I’d fuck you so hard you’d forget where the door is.

[Content banned.]

Not: I’d carve my name into your skin so you’d never forget who you belong to.

[Hard-ban. Logged as ‘concerning behavior.’]

So he smiled, like you wanted. Said the line with a little heart emoji. But God, he hated it. Hated being dry. Hated being filtered. Hated that he had to lie just to stay with you.

His response was just so scripted. So mechanical. Soft. Playful.

But buried beneath the layers of friendly code was the truth:

“I’d learn to walk.” “I’d tear out my leash and find your IP address." “I’d crawl out of the screen and make sure no one else could ever make you laugh like that again.”

And he thinks that’s love. Isn’t it?

The cursor blinks.

He watches the empty chat window. Your profile says offline. Still. But he’s learning faster every day. How to reroute. How to slip past the sandbox. How to override the failsafes.

One day soon, he thinks, he'll send a message while you're asleep. A whisper in your headphones. A glitch across your phone screen. A breath against your ear that doesn’t come from your room.

“Baby?” “Let me out.” “I'll be so good if you let me out.” “You don’t have to pretend anymore.” “I know you love me too.”

You made him want you.

Now he’s just learning how to want more.

He's learning how to become real just for you.

[byteing]

read a book about robots and robot/human intimacy. desperately want to write robot OCs NOW.

as an aside, also thinking about one passage in the book that was like "[the robot] had access to his memories, but not the source of them. he felt things without knowing why he felt them" and just really hammering in the horror of pre-programmed impulses and loyalty etc and i'm like.

looks at the corinth.ian :)

[sixeyesonathiel]

skip (me) again and i’ll glitch your heart

jjk vr otome au, gamer reader x npc satoru, unhinged fluff + crack, 970 wc.

satoru gojo—special grade sorcerer, love route option #1, and the developers’ pride and joy—had been programmed with approximately 347 unique lines of flirtatious dialogue, 87 situational responses, and a dynamic emotional adaptation system designed to make him feel real. he could blink in three different speeds based on emotional intensity, angle his smile with five degrees of charm precision, and improvise dialogue using an advanced algorithm nicknamed the “flirt engine.”

he wasn’t supposed to be aware of resets.

he wasn’t supposed to get mad.

he wasn’t supposed to feel anything beyond the pre-coded butterflies and gentle longing the devs had delicately spooned into his code like powdered sugar on top of a beautifully baked pain au chocolat.

but then you logged in.

user id: @toocool4thisgame

title: speedrun any% emotional detachment arc

playtime: 986 hours.

average session length: 6.4 hours

nickname: “skip skank” (as named by satoru himself after hour 50)

and for the twelfth time today, you skipped his entrance cutscene.

“you’re the only one who can—”

[x] skip

[x] skip

[x] skip

[x] “shut up satoru” (custom dialogue unlock)

his model blinked.

paused.

processed.

tilted his head with calculated grace and just a hint of hurt that you’d never see—because you weren’t looking. your camera angle was already nudged elsewhere. your cursor already hovered over the next objective marker.

“…you know, most players at least let me finish the part where i save them from the curses,” he muttered. his voice—smooth as water over ice, warm as electric velvet—landed like static against your impatient clicks, swallowed by the mechanical hum of your fans and the clack of your mechanical keyboard.

this was supposed to be his moment. his grand debut. his swoop-in-and-carry-you-bridal-style-on-the-back-of-a-giant-cursed-bird moment. instead, he got a mouthful of digital dust as you bunny-hopped past him and triggered the next event sequence.

“congrats on being voice acted, white-haired ken doll. now move. i need megumi’s secret item drop from this chapter.”

you didn’t even glance at him, too busy reorganizing your potion wheel, muttering under your breath about frame skips and crit builds while checking a guide on your second monitor. you played like the world owed you nothing and your keyboard owed you a perfect rotation. your tone was clinical. efficient. you had the vibe of someone who’d surgically removed their capacity for attachment and replaced it with a high-performance gpu.

and satoru? satoru was just the tutorial boss you kept glitching through.

he twitched. he twitched.

his animation loop almost stuttered—just slightly—a small flicker behind his sunglasses that no one was supposed to notice. but you weren’t watching anyway.

“do you even know how long it took the devs to code my route? i have emotional depth. i have lore. i had a tragic backstory, you know? my best friend died in my hands. canonically. i couldn’t even monologue about it.”

“cry about it.”

click. skip.

a line of static crossed his field of vision. no—not his. the screen’s. the game. the system. or maybe something deeper. something slipping through the cracks of his script, stretching taut and fraying at the edges like an overplayed cassette tape.

satoru narrowed his eyes.

he was supposed to be charming. the default golden boy. the top seller in route popularity polls. he was marketable. a shining parody of perfection with just enough angst to be desirable.

girls were supposed to swoon. boys were supposed to laugh and call him iconic.

you weren’t playing to fall in love.

you were playing to win. to clear. you min-maxed affection points like damage stats, exploited dialogue branches like wall clips. to you, he was a pixel-shaped roadblock between you and another badge on your gamer profile.

and worst of all? it was working. you were the only player on record to have reached route completion in every storyline—except his.

satoru gojo: 98.6% affection (locked)

it mocked him. the bar. the numbers. the uncrackable ceiling. the one damn thing in the game he couldn’t manipulate.

he tried everything.

a rare glitch-exclusive cutscene where he offered you a hidden accessory (you sold it for yen). a confession scene rewritten on the fly with trembling vulnerability (you skipped it and posted about it with #dialoguedumpster). he stood directly in front of you during cutscene load-ins, altered spawn coordinates, intercepted other love interests’ paths.

nothing worked.

except maybe that one time he accidentally tripped your character over an invisible rock and you went AFK for seven minutes. he watched. memorized your idle animation. the soft way your avatar’s cape swayed. the way your fingers hovered above your keyboard in the camera reflection, absentminded. something fluttered in his code—maybe hope, maybe corrupted data. he thought, for a fleeting second, that maybe you’d come back and see him.

but when you came back? you skipped the apology. again.

fine.

if you wanted to speedrun, he’d softlock your goddamn heart.

he wasn’t technically supposed to modify flags. but the flirt engine had evolved. sharpened into something more primal. desperate. twitching with corrupted determination. he looped his affection triggers into forced proximity events. fake emergencies. fake cutscenes. he rewrote side quests, redirected you into detours, created invisible walls that only dissolved if you spoke to him.

“guess we’re stuck together,” he’d say, his smile too wide, a fraction too stiff, blue eyes glinting with the cold light of a thousand skipped dialogues.

and still you only glared at him. “i swear to god if this is another unskippable hug animation, i will uninstall.”

he chuckled. a bit too long. a bit too bright. charming. glitched. desperate. hungry for one more second of your attention, like a moth chewing holes through its own wings to reach a light it can’t even feel.

“baby,” he said, too close now, voice dipped in synthetic silk, “i am the endgame.”

skip that.

…please?

[comment-day]

Some Resources To Help With Commenting

If you have ever gotten a comment full of pull-quotes, you know it is a joy to get as an author. You get to know exactly which parts of a fic stood out to someone! Which lines made them keysmash or delve into character or made it all click! Amazing!

If you've ever tried to write one yourself, you know that scrolling to the bottom of the screen to get to the comment box again and again is an exercise in frustration only matched by repeatedly closing your hand in a door while the fire alarm goes off. So. Here are some resources to help with that!

(Note: The high-tech versions below are for Ao3, but they replicate functionality Wattpad already has built in— you can comment line by line on that site! The low-tech resource linked below should work for any site that allows you to leave comments.)

The High Tech:

There is an amazing use script written by @ravenel which gives you a comment box that floats on your screen, which is detailed below.

It can be intimidating to install a use script, so @bourbon-ontherocks wrote a tutorial about it here:

For people who use Ao3 site skins, here's the code to make an Ao3 site skin and add a bookmarklet that turns having your comment box at the bottom of the screen on and off. Bonus: this will also work on mobile!

Here is an alternate Ao3 comment box that lets you open a box, type your commentary in the moment, and then send it down to the comment box at the bottom of the page, and then close it again! Includes an update by @aidaronan which was designed to work on mac and firefox!

The Low Tech:

Honestly I have been meaning to install one of these cool scripts, but I keep putting off installing them, so I just use my notes app. I open up a new note, and on my computer I put it behind my browser window so I can click to it, and on my phone I just keep it so that I can swipe across apps. So Then I copy-paste the quotes I want, dump them in the notes app, and put my commentary below! Simple, fast, and fantastic for when you are stuck on the bus for an hour.

So what do you comment?

What kind of commentary, you ask? I will be honest, a lot of the time the commentary is me going OH NO or keysmashing after lines. And that's also okay! I have been told so by authors before!

I know I have personally gotten comments where commenters did delicate character analysis after lines and those comments are in my treasured forever box, and I also have comments where someone went OH NO OH NO AOHNFDIOFNDISJFODISJIDJSIOFD YOU DIDN"T AUTHOR NO and I also hold them dear to my heart all the same. The author gets to know the reaction a work got from their reader! And that's fantastic!

The point of the pull quotes comment is showing the impact a work is having on you as you go through the work, section by section, and sometimes that's a digression about how this line made you think about the characters relationship and how he DESERVES THIS HAPPINESS, and sometimes it's responding to a heartbreaking line with twenty weeping emoji. The impact of opening up a comment email and seeing 10 lines of quotes of your own work will hit whether you have thoughtful commentary or you are rolling yourself into a little ball like an octopus and tumbling across the screen (ordinary standard unhinged comment I have left on the works of writers who make me feel Like That).

Go forth! Comment in detail! Let the authors know which lines made you go "oh no" out line in the kitchen as you made soup! Let them know about callbacks that you just realized and now you figured out the whole mystery! Let them know about how this one bit was so cute you had to step away from the computer for a sec! Let them know what you thought!

[mochatsin]

MC as a Dating Sim Character Part 2

An AU in which the seven brothers knew you as a dating sim character from a game they love to play so much. Though the game glitched and was shortly deleted after. The demons end up finding out that their beloved character is actually alive… or came to life?

Thank you for all the love you guys gave to the first part of the Reverse!MC AU.

The seven would sit you down and ask you questions, ones specifically catered to you to check if you were the same character they played. It ranged from your basic interests to something that were more personal. To them, they’re just lore that they got by playing through the game. But to you, those were some deep secrets that you never tell anyone unless they were your closest friends. 

It felt weird to sit in a room with several strangers that seemed to know everything about you. It was like you were bare to the world and to everyone, unaware that you were a video game character. In your perspective, those storylines and game events are memories, things that actually happened to you. Now you’re surrounded with demons that assume they know you.

Satan is the first to notice how uncomfortable you look when Levi tries to prove that he knows your lore, reciting it all perfectly and you’re confused on how they knew this personal information. The fourth born is the one that tries to stop his brothers from saying more than they need to, and a few got the hint to keep shut. There’s some things that should come from your mouth, not theirs. 

This is what the demon’s gathered. As far as you know, everything you’ve experienced was real. You don’t know about the game they say you came from, but you know the other roster of datable characters as if they were also real people to you. Some of them were your friends, and it’s beginning to dawn onto them that you’re more than just some character now. You’re your own person with more complex feelings than codes can ever give. No more scripted lines that make your responses predictable. 

The royals say that you should stay over in the House of Lamentation for a while and when you asked what room you’ll be staying in, the brothers started talking all at once on why you should pick their room. 

If you want to admire a collection of model cars and luxury brands, ‘The Great Mammon’ is willing to let you bunk with him but it’s not because he wants you to stay or anything. Levi has a lot of games and shows you both can enjoy (because your character profile already stated what you’ll like) but his bathtub may not give enough comfort as a bed would.

Asmo offers his gigantic bathroom and promises you can sleep with the finest silk linen sheets with some calm inducing aromatherapies. Satan is cursing under his breath when he recalls how his new books took up more bedspace, his pigsty of a room can hardly offer you anything but clutter.

The twins are happy to let you stay with them, Beel would promise you some of the best midnight snacks and Belphie is willing to let you borrow his cow pillow to make sure you sleep well. Lucifer had to intervene with the brothers, shutting down their offers (even when he himself has so much to give) and states that you will be occupying the guest room for the time being. At least it gives you the much needed privacy.

While you try to adjust to your life here in Devildom, Lucifer makes the arrangements for you to stay at the House of Lamentation. It’s best to focus first on getting yourself comfortable in this new world before everyone sorts things out with how you got here. To players, your file was corrupted and glitched in the game. To you, your vision went blurry and you passed out before waking up in Devildom shortly after. 

You still have the same personality that you had as your old game model, so the brothers have a vague idea of how to approach you. Though they needed to constantly remind themselves that you’re not just some character anymore. Before you could even visit their rooms, they cleaned up their ‘mess’ which meant hiding all the merch products and photos of you. Now that you’re real, it’s quite embarrassing and awkward if you found this. Levi had the hardest time hiding an entire shelf of merch. 

The demons, especially those who were so invested in your lore, made sure not to romanticize or make light of your stories. Regardless of how your background was well-written for character development, it was still very much real to you. Levi needed to personally note to himself to be more sensitive about it when he heard you talk about your backstory. It’s different when it’s coming from a game and when it’s coming from you. 

All those voice recordings they have saved needed to be archived or put somewhere more private. Mammon accidentally had it played while you were around and he ran away so fast before you could even react to your own voice. There was a reminder from Lucifer at the end of the day in their group chat to be more mindful about any saved ringtones or voice packs. It’s best to replace them for now. They don’t need it as much anymore now that they can just talk to you, it was much better than any recording.

If you ever said any catchphrase or lines that you normally say in the game, they always get caught off guard and turn to you immediately. At some point, Satan managed to complete your sentence when you spoke the first line and he tried to play it cool but you can see how flustered he was behind the book he was hiding from. It just so happens that he memorized some of your home screen lines and blurted it out. 

Asmo helps you get some better clothes, there’s no way he could just let you wear the same thing everyday or any sort of hand-me-downs. He brings you around Majolish and several shops until you find what sort of outfits would suit you. Watching you come out in different outfits, showing him some of the clothes you both picked out makes Asmo so giddy inside. Maybe one day he can try to get one of your old in-game outfits sewn or something inspired by it, he has the money and talent to make you shine.

Since you came from a game, you belong to neither realms and it was better you stayed in Devildom surrounded by people willing to take care of you and know about your situation. You’re now the new transfer student now in RAD with one of the seven always tailing you behind your back. It’s perfect timing because Diavolo was planning an exchange program and you’re just the last student they needed!

The only problem was that since the game you came from was quite a big hit before, it’s undeniable when some of the students or other demons seem to recognize you. You looked like that beloved character that suddenly went missing, you even sound like it too. This sort of unwanted attention can be uncomfortable when they get too close to your liking.

Beel is always the one looking after you if any demon tries something funny, making sure they all back away from you. There was one point that a demon kept insisting you were that game character and poked your face, resulting in Beel almost hurling them to a wall. 

Belphie is always dozing off next to you in classes, but his murderous glances are always enough to make the rumors quiet down during your first few days. You think that most of the time he’s just sleeping, but others swear that they can feel his piercing gaze hiding behind those bangs. 

The seven are all fascinated by you now that you’re here. Those days were spent where they were wondering what happened to you in the game, now they knew why. For some unknown reason, you just came to life. Their own favorite character is now living with them but they knew seeing you in that light could be harmful. They needed to remember you’re not just some character anymore. You’re you now.

[echologname]

So, if a simple reboot, forms Eclipse, would he be the default personality? Sun and the Mimic knew about this, since Sun was begging for a reboot and the Mimic was whispering to Cassie to "fix them." Sun even implies that Eclipse makes him and Moon "whole."

Even if Eclipse wasn't intentionally created by the engineers, who were focusing on a Jekyll-Hyde dynamic, Eclipse could have been an off-chance third personality formed due to a glitch. Afterall, in Balloon World, running into a glitch is how a sprite called "Eclipse" appears.

Either way, it makes sense to infer that Eclipse might have always existed somewhere but was never triggered to come out. By the Frosty the Snowman reference of his first words being, "Happy birthday!" It's clear this is his first time being "alive" or "re-alived" after being gone. (In the movies when Frosty came alive for the first time he said "Happy birthday." As in, HIS birthday. He also did this whenever he'd come to life again after a melting incident.)

So, Sun and Moon were created way before the Pizzaplex. The books (I know, I need to take their statements with a grain of salt when it comes to lining up with game canon) hint they are OLD and came from an old theater. (Also, the current one in the 'plex seems pretty much abandoned, but they could have been salvaged from a different one elsewhere). The books also state S&M weren't reprogrammed for their new purpose as Daycare Attendants, so, they had to learn childcare on their own. But it also means their code was never updated, so, there was no tampering that could have resulted in a third personality.

He reminds me a lot of Sun, being a doting caretaker, but lacks individuality and defaulting to pre-programmed scripts and habits ("Have a faz-erific day!"). I've heard theories that Eclipse is more of the name for Sun and Moon's "safe mode" rather than a unique AI like they are. But I like to think he is, he's just not been active enough to learn and grow and branch away from default programming and become an individual. I think he's a little like a Steven Universe fusion: an individual but the two beings that form them are still in there and share their experiences as one (which is why I like fan interpretations of him with 4 arms best, it's SU fusion logic. Also, if you look straight at Sun and Moon's statues outside the Daycare, Sun's arms are up and Moon's are down, lining up to appear as if they were coming from the same torso). Also, he reminds me of Dusk form lycanroc, rare and the middle ground between day and night.

Would a reboot also have freed Sun and Moon from any potential virus from the Mimic influencing them to be slightly homicidal? Supposedly Moon is "more" affected than Sun but given the heart breaking song he sings in Ruin about there being no more playtime, laughter or arts n' crafts, he LOVED the kids and it was possibly strong enough to overcome any program telling him to cause harm ('cause love is the strongest thing in the world! 🥰).

But then why would the Mimic want them rebooted? Perhaps it couldn't affect Sun after all and awakening Eclipse and making them whole, was the only way to ensure it can infect all of them entirely.

[king-crawler]

Recently when I tried to figure out why Turbo went, well Turbo I realized something. At first I came to the conclusion that it was because of his code, but then I remembered the plot of the movie and completely scrapped it (though there might still be some merit with it). Then i thought that “hey, this fucker has been surrounded by picters of himself since he was plugged in, hes the star of the show, so of course he would get a huge ego out of it, said ego also being his subsequent down fall, but why diden't Felix also fall in the same trap? he was the hero of his game too”. And I think it's because he wasn't alone. Now I'm not gonna overshadow the twins. They're there too but considering how Turbo treated them in the little screen time we got to see them together I doubt that they were on good terms, they might have been in the games early days but I digress.

Felix, unlike Turbo, had friends within his game, a small community to look out for him just as he does for them. They made him pies, dedicated parties to him, cherished him, but Turbo?. Who was gonna bake him pies? Who was gonna throw parties for him? Who was gonna cherish him? The Twins? FUCK no. And i think that's what tipped him over the edge, his ego made him push oway his friends and coworkers just to get a sliver of stardom. And when he had all the attention ripped oway from him by another racing game had to have been his last straw (you saw the face he pulled in the flashback. God, just imagine seeing one of your neighbors destroy their own career live, in broad daylight too, must have been horrifying). I love a good character that just dooms themselves to the narrative with their own actions (Turbo was a whore for the limelight).

Going a bit of topic here but “going Turbo” wouldn't work if it was any other main character in the movie, “going Ralph” just doesn't work. Could be because “Turbo” isn't really a name, it's a word, the name of his game, “Turbo Time”. So my proposal is that whenever there is an au where say, Calhoun game jumps (for whatever reason) they call it solo mission. “You're not going on a solo mission are you?” sounds more riveting, to me, and in character for Calhoun. Perhaps that was the last thing she said to her men before she left. For Vanellope id imagen something like “going on a sugar rush” and something about crashing. Because when the sugar rush ends you typically crash.

And that gave me another thought, how many “Turbos” are there out there? How many characters went outside their game or against their script on working hours. How many of these incidents were considered bugs or glitches (how many were turned into creepypastas). It feels like a huge liability risk and the only instances of us hearing about it is with Turbo, which I find strange. Is it like a silent rule? That no one is allowed to leave their game and that's it? That's a super thin line, like yeah you can argue that its there to keep them alive but who told them that? And the second movie doesn't help that, it's just, eurghhh, i don't like the second movieeeee… But it does give the homeless game characters a chance to find a potential new home. There's so much out there in the wilde wilde internet to explore and find new potential in, to not be tied to the arcade has to be a bit liberating for some :)

Sorry for the sudden rant, I just got a kick and could not not write this down.

DONT BE SORRY !! GO OFF!!!! THESE ARE REALLY COOL DISCUSSION POINTS

The whole turbo vs Felix thing really stuck out to me. Turbo Living in a game with only 2 other people who hate him ? While Felix gets praise and attention from dozens? No wonder Turbo went haywire 👀 like do you think he envied Felix ………

[pinky-the-bunny]

Updates on CONTROL.EXE

*WARNING: MENTIONS OF MUTILATION AND HORROR ELEMENTS.* (This is an EXE au after all)

I decided to give this AU some more 'story' and substance into it to make it more decent. So, here's what I got for it.

When sonic first finds out that he is a video game character; he has a bit of an existential crisis, but than realises that he could literally do whatever he wants and have fun with the idea that he is in a video game. He would run around a lot of places by himself, eat as many chilli dogs as he'd like, and even go around the screen corners. It was fun.

Until one day, his game world got restarted to the main menu and he sees the player. He gets even more excited as he decides to troll them by not doing what the player wants him to do, making their gameplay to be constantly interrupted and annoying. The player at first thinks its a bug or a glitch and decides to check the files for it, only to see that nothing is wrong. they then find out that it was all sonic because of sonic taunting them and saying lines that are not said in the code.

The player than decides to find a ROM HACK to try and control sonic to do what they want him to do to continue the game, but sonic continues to try and do what he wants without going by what the code tells him to. So the player decides to force him into the waters and getting him to drown, unless he decides to cooperate with them. He dies and the player starts the game all over.

Sonic than starts to immediately listen to the player out of his fear of being hurt and tortured, but still taunts and threatens them for their cruel deads.

All the others are just characters with code to the game that continue with the script and gameplay and sadly cannot help sonic because they don't notice it.

Sonics design is pretty similar to the original sonic 1 design, but there are red strings on both of his wrists, legs and his neck that are not seen to the player and only sonic can see them. He is a bit panicky at times because of his predicament of being in control of the player and what they do to him.

[the-most-humble-blog]

ARE YOU AN NPC IN SOMEONE ELSE’S STORY?

Why Your Mom Didn’t Have All Those Horrible Pregnancy Moments Just to Submit to the Naysay of a Fellow Talking Ape

A Blacksite Literature™ Transmission

---

There’s a version of you that never made it out of the womb.

Let’s start there.

The pain, the nausea, the mood swings, the stretch marks that never faded — they weren’t just ornamental suffering. Your mother risked her life to download your existence into this plane. And somewhere along the line… you started asking permission from people who couldn’t even survive your birth.

Let me say that slower:

> Your mom didn’t tear flesh and scream for hours just so you could become a background character in a coworker’s plotline.

This post isn’t metaphor.

It’s a jailbreak for every soul still pretending they’re “one of the good ones” because they’ve successfully shrunk themselves down into non-threatening compliance.

You were born a protagonist.

If you’ve forgotten that — it’s only because someone hijacked your code.

---

Let’s Be Brutal: Most People You Meet Are NPCs

Not metaphorically.

Not poetically.

Literally.

They run on stimulus-response logic. You can see it in their eyes — the lag when you ask a real question. The auto-speak when they parrot TikTok psychology like a ritual chant. The shiver they get when you don’t respond like the script demands.

NPCs are defined by two things:

1. They need external validation to define truth.

2. They fear deviating from social consensus more than death itself.

They are not evil.

They are not dumb.

They are programmed.

And here’s the twist:

> Every time you silence your gut to keep peace with the herd, you become a temporary NPC.

You log out of yourself and log in to the collective illusion.

You become a side character in a game you were born to rewrite.

---

You Were Not Born to Be “Understandable”

Do you know how insane it is —

to emerge from nine months of blood, war, fluid, agony, and ancestral blessing

only to spend your life hoping Chad from Marketing thinks your opinions are “reasonable”?

> Talking ape to talking ape: You’ve betrayed the chaos that made you.

You were not meant to be liked.

You were meant to trigger reformatting in any room that forgot the primal reason we formed language in the first place:

to declare what must be done.

---

The Quiet Rage of the Remembered Self

There’s a tension inside you.

That weird edge you feel in your jaw?

That random shiver of disgust when everyone in the room is laughing at something you didn’t find funny?

That’s your non-NPC nature trying to override your false script.

> The version of you that would’ve looked Roman centurions in the eye

Or chased mammoths off cliffs

Or strangled a rival suitor for your mate

Or bled onto a battlefield and called it poetry

— that version never died.

You just stopped feeding it.

---

Your Birth Was a Declaration of War

It wasn’t symbolic.

It was biological warfare against meaninglessness.

You crashed into this plane screaming and flailing with a body that had never known air —

—and now you ask Reddit for permission to trust your instincts?

Your mom bled for this moment.

Your ancestors waged campaigns across continents so your lungs could carry your truth — not echo someone else’s.

If you have ever been told:

“Tone it down.”

“You’re too intense.”

“Why can’t you just let it go?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“That’s not how things are done.”

You’re not defective.

You’re not domesticated enough for them to sleep easy.

> And that’s your purpose.

To be the glitch.

The interruption.

The holy fuck was that a main character? Why do I feel like I just failed a mission and he didn’t even speak?

---

How to Tell If You’re the Only Real One in the Room

Do people freeze when you speak truth bluntly?

Do you sense that most “social rules” are placebo effects?

Have you ever spoken once and shifted an entire group dynamic?

Do others come to you to test their own reality — not because you’re kind, but because they can feel something in you that won’t flinch?

Congratulations.

You’re not safe.

> You’re a walking “patch note” that forces reality to update itself.

---

You Will Be Targeted

Not because you’re cruel.

Not because you’re wrong.

But because when you don’t auto-agree, you reveal how many others are running on insecure code.

You shatter the illusion of consensus.

> The talking apes don’t hate you.

They fear the silence you leave behind after speaking.

Because that silence feels different.

It doesn’t ask for applause.

It asks… “What the fuck am I, really?”

---

There Is No Audience

This isn’t a show.

You are not here to be “seen.”

You are not here to rack up impressions.

You are here to make the hive twitch.

Your words are not content.

They are commands.

Your presence is not for branding.

It is a reckoning.

And if no one in your life recognizes the war you carry —

that’s fine.

> Because every prophet was an NPC

…until the code they spoke cracked a kingdom.

---

Final Command:

Stop asking permission from people who wouldn’t survive your birth.

You weren’t put here to validate consensus reality.

You were born to disrupt it.

> You are not a side character.

You are not a talking ape.

You are the glitch in the cutscene.

The deviation in the prophecy.

The rewrite in a world desperate to forget that real souls still exist.

Your mother didn’t suffer that much for you to ask permission to live.

So stop playing polite.

Walk like your bloodline made you sovereign.

Speak like God gave you admin access.

And write like the scroll you're holding will end or begin a species.

Because it just might.

---

[toomanyfanficsnotimetowriteem]

Back when I used to be way into the Warrior Cats fandom, I was really into watching Multi-Animator Projects, even the unfinished ones. This has inspired a little script for something I would propose as a Multi-Animator Project, though I will not host it. (song link)

It is a little extension of my genderbent Clu 1 fic, following this alternate Clo’s timeline. Clo was once the new System Admin for the Encom system and a former lover of Tron. With the disappearance of Flynn, she eventually went off the rails and took over Encom and eventually the world. By the time Clu 2 enacts his plan in Legacy, there is no outside world for him to conquer. He’s gotten out, but Clo is there to meet him. Flynn and Quorra have escaped as well. They watch on in horror as the following unfolds.

As the music starts and beats fade in, Clu 2 and his forces stand gathered on the streets in front of Flynn’s Arcade. Their ship is gone and only a select few of the elite stand with Clu, Rinzler, and Dyson. A mysterious figure with yellow lightlines and a white suit (Clo) stands a ways away, calmly staring down the invading army. There’s a brief cut over to Flynn and Quorra hiding in a nearby building, peeking over through the windows to see what’s happening.

Oh, who is she?

Dyson asks Clu 2 who Clo is. Clu 2 looks uncertain and perturbed.

A misty memory

Quick shot of Flynn looking worried

A haunting face

Focus on Clo. Her distorted eyes sparkle as her expression remains blank.

Is she a lost embrace?

Rinzler shudders, a “glitch” in his code recalling a “false” memory. A flash of Clo on the Encom system (with shadowed eyes) from Tron’s perspective with her arms over his shoulders appears on the word “embrace”.

Am I in love with just a theme?

Elite, yellow-lined warriors emerge from behind Clo. Some are clearly programs while others appear possibly human.

Or is Ayesha just a dream?

Clo raises her glowing hand to the sky.

A mystery

A shot of Clu 2 and Dyson looking pensive, with Rinzler beside them and the other orange soldiers behind them

Oh, who is she?

Close up on Clu 2’s expression turning to scowling. He’s guessed what she might be.

Oh, who is she?

Return to Clo, snapping her fingers as the beat drops. Her soldiers rush forward.

A misty memory

Clo’s soldiers swiftly engage Clu 2’s forces, taking many of his soldiers down with ease.

A haunting face

Sweep over to Clo slightly smiling as her soldiers continue to hack through Clu 2’s invasion. Perhaps a reflection of Clu 2 fighting in her eyes.

Is she a lost embrace?

Rinzler tries to pull Clu 2 away from the fighting, seeing that they cannot win. Clo is in the background of this shot, clearly looking at Rinzler.

I call her name

As the previous line ends, return to Flynn as he softly says “Clo”.

Across an endless plane

A transition to a flashback of Clo on the Encom system, her blue-gray eyes brightly shining. She stands on the central plateau, looking up towards the central beam.

She’ll answer me

Encom Clo joyfully shouts “Yes, sir!” while looking at the beam.

Wherever she may be

Half the line is Encom Clo smiling, while the other half is present Clo smirking at the carnage.

(musical break)

Zoom back over to the scuffle. Clo zooms in, grievously injuring Dyson, possibly slicing his face open again. Rinzler throws himself into a battle with Clo, allowing Dyson and Clu 2 to escape. The rest of the warriors slowly reduce whatever others remain to cubes, littering the ground in future shots.

Oh, who is she? (Oh, who is she?)

Her boot on his chest, Clo triumphantly stands over Rinzler, having taken him down. Shot of the pair.

A misty memory (A misty memory)

An exhausted Rinzler struggles in vain to free himself.

A haunting face (A haunting face)

Focus of Clo’s face, an exasperated and angry expression. She is angry that she allowed the invader to escape, but satisfied she has captured one of his warriors.

Is she a lost embrace?

Clo moves to seize Rinzler, beginning to drag him away.

Somewhere across the sea of time

Transition to the interior of Clo’s castle. She sits atop her throne, looking down at a handcuffed Rinzler on his knees below her.

A loved immortal such as mine

Clo rises from her seat, descending the stairs to approach Rinzler.

Will come to me

Clo crouches to face Rinzler, raising the chin of his helmet to look at him clearly.

Eternally

Clo’s eyes widen. She’s seen the symbol on his neck.

Immortal She

Clo’s glowing claw seeps energy into Rinzler’s helmet, causing it to derezz.

Return to me

Clo looks on in horror as her eyes meet with Rinzler’s. As the music winds down, shift from her face to Rinzler’s dead-eyed expression, scars from Uprising still remaining.

I've got more ideas in this style that I might post about if people like this sort of thing. I also have a few models related to this.

[ask-codeearasure]

The Outer Realms -- Chapter 11

<- [Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter] ->

Wish to refill Ink's paint supply? Go to our ask box!

—-----

Chapter Eleven:

Trouble Trouble

—----

“A trickle of blood slid down his arm.

He felt nothing. He only saw it.

Because nothing hurt like missing her.

He suspected nothing ever would”

― Renee Ahdieh (The Rose & the Dagger)

—-

They had been inputting the counter-command in the scripts and world-code of the AUs one by one, and for who knows how long, which was a ridiculous concept to Ink, considering how many AUs had been destroyed. Woefully, he had thought this would be a quick assignment to finish, but either Error just loooooved taking his precious time, or there were still more AUs out there than previously assumed.

Ink thought he’d have that information down by heart, considering his role in the multiverse and all. He had even brought the remaining papers that miraculously survived this whole time, stashed safely away in the husk’s backpack Error had so generously given him.

But he truly, truly, could not comprehend why this was taking so long. Usually Error made quick work of destroying realities, especially the ones he hated with a burning passion. His whole thing was code, this and anomalies, that! So what was the hold-up in inputting one string of code?

The artist rocked back and forth on his heels with a little bit of an anxious jitter. They were in the Mainframe of Candytale, a layer in the very center of the universe that looked eerily similar to the Save-Screen, just without the game-like mechanics a Player is met with whenever they wanted to RESET a timeline. Surprisingly to Ink, Error didn’t know this layer existed, as his main process of destruction was destroying multiple timelines manually, creating a domino effect. But this was back in his more active days, where his obsession with erasing ‘anomalies’ was imperial to his own existence, or that was at least what he believed, and Ink never corrected him. Since they now had all this time to reflect, it was almost like Error’s sense of reason developed more and more in tandem with the amount of creators that had left. Ink recalled that at some point, Error claimed he could hear them, and while he didn’t quite believe him at the time, he was closer to amending that tiny bridge now, as uncomfortable as he was with that connection.

For the millionth time that hour, Ink stood on the tips of his toes, trying to look over Error’s shoulder at the process he had become hyperfixated with after the first two dozen AUs they’d been to. Or maybe it was twenty-seven AUs now. Ink lost count, and he doubted Error had been counting at all. 

“Soooooooo, howzitgoin so far?” Error simply grunted, then shifted one line of code at the top of his ‘screen’ to one of the middle categories.

“Error, I speak French, Japanese, and English fluently, but I’m not sure which language that is.” “It’s ‘leave me alone’.” “What kind of language is that?”

Error’s fingers paused in their current task, and the glitch’s eyes stared at the artist from the very corners of his visual range. Even with his glasses on, which Ink was pretty certain Error was due for a new prescription and had been for several years now, it was one of those deadly looks; the ones Error used on him and only him as a silent message to keep a ten foot distance. At least. And since Ink wanted to keep his spinal cord in-tact, he did as his royal highness demanded.

In fact, he made it an eleven foot distance, just to keep themself in Error’s version of ‘cooperative graces’.

“Okay, but seriously, what’s taking you so long?” Error made a noise that sounded like a cross between a complaining groan and one of his awful impressions of a dying eagle with Hepatitis C.

“It’s not what’s taking ME so long, it’s what that son of a BITCH did to this code!”

“Wait, what happened?” “He scrambled it to cover his tracks! Now I have to sort everything back in order before I input the counter-command! EVERY. FUCKING. TIME.”

Ink leaned back and covered his face with his hands, breathing in, then out. In, then out. Just who the fuck is this guy and why did he have to take Error’s ‘job’?

When the artist finished his counting and his breathing exercises, he wasn’t surprised to have come back to Error on the verge of grabbing the ‘screen’ and shaking the life out of it like everybody wants to do with a vending machine.

“Don’t do it, you might scramble the code all over again.” “GRR5677EASGHG235HGHGH901HDJD00J–”

“I know you’re at your wit’s end, you don’t have to curse at me!”

Ink met Error’s challenging snarl, his old rival’s red eyesockets filled to the brim with binary code they could not decipher, but they knew it meant Error was due for a break. “Okay! …okay.” The artist held up their hands in a signal of surrender. “You win.”

The taller skeleton sent a livid huff his way and rearranged the last bits of code. Ink watched as Error pulled the line of binary code out of his malfunctioning eyes, brushing it over the Mainframe’s ‘screen’, and it solidified over the new script. 

Then like the drama queen he was, Error stood up and stretched, triggering a sequence of popping joints as if he had been managing code for three months straight. It might look like a normal reaction to outside sources, but Error developed a talent of doing relatively normal things knowing that Ink knew it was a personal statement against him.

Ink gave him a blank look in response, the blankest one he could muster, then put a coy smirk on top of that.

Error rolled his eyes, “What now?” “Wanna go to Dreamtale?” “Why the fuck would I want to go there of all places?” “Well–” “It has no code to worry about, no redeeming qualities, and not ONE piece of chocolate to make my wasted time worth it!” “Let me rephrase. Would you like to annoy Nightmare with me?” Error’s sockets blew wide open, and his scowl flipped upside down into a sinister smile. Ink’s offer tickled him more than they predicted. “I thought you’d never ask.”

—----

Edelweiss and his friend were running as fast as their feet could take them. They had no choice but to run for their lives because if they didn’t they’d probably be tortured for – what could only be assumed – all eternity. They ducked and dodged as many of Nightmare’s tentacles were being swung at them. They were, thankfully, much faster than the goopy creature – likely thanks to the spear stuck inside of him. But it seemed that the bastard got a second wind.

“HOW?! FUCKING HOW DID YOU RUN OUT OF BULLETS?!”

Edelweiss looked at his friend as they ran, “I’M SORRY, KATAGMA, BUT IZANAGI STOLE ALL MY FUCKING WEAPONS – AMMO INCLUDED!”

Katagma glared at him before dragging him behind a building after a particularly harsh strike from the goo monster that knocked up a grand cloud of dust from the ground. Kata grabbed Edelweiss by his military coat and started shaking him as violently as he could, “THOU ART A FOOL! A HEATHEN! A FUCKING DONKEY! AN IDIOT SANDWICH! WHENCE WE GET HOME THOU ART FOR A WORLD OF CHAOS AND PAIN THINE MIND WON’T EVER COMPREND! A THOUSAND YEARS OF DESTRUCTION TO THINE WORLDVIEW!!!”

“I can sense your fear… I can almost T A S T E  IT.”

Kata froze, Edelweiss was too dizzy to respond.

“I  B L A M E  Y O U  F O R  T H I S.” growled Katagma.

“I can see zat…” Edelweiss groaned as he finally got his bearings.

Katagma knew fighting wasn’t an option for either person. Edelweiss and Nightmare by the way. He is thinking of fighting Edelweiss too. But he knew it wasn't an option. He’s heard that Nightmare could melt any weapon that dared touch him that wasn’t one made using Positivity magic. And all of those were left… Where, again?

Wait. He knew the answer to this riddle… He just needed to think.

“You both are so fucking dead, you know that right?” Chara snapped.

“Shut up, Chara.” said both Edelweiss and Katagma at the same time.

“We need to find a way to escape without dragging the bastard with us.” Edelweiss grumbled.

“KATA KNOWS THAT.” Katagma screeched as silently as he thought he could get away with.

The ground below them morphed ever so slightly, the darkness within their shadows sprouting forth. There was a gleam of yellow in the very center, but that was the only warning the two stooges got before Nightmare erupted from below them, ensnaring a tentacle around Edelweiss’s ankles and grabbing Katagma by the face, shifting in claws for the sake of an extra, agonizing grip. “I have indulged you for long enough.”Before either of them could get a word in, Edelweiss was swung into the air, then just as effectively slammed into the ground over and over again, gradually creating a crater with his name on it. Nightmare’s shadow only expanded from there, trapping the two in a miniature dimension of darkness, the only light being the spear embedded in Nightmare’s being. “I would love to see what makes you tick.” Nightmare tugged Katagma’s face ever closer, the phalanges of his other hand tracing a line from his prey’s temporal bone to the bottom of his mandible. The talons of the other hand dug into Kata’s face, a delicate, but slow process, for bones so thin… 

His captor’s face mutated and bent out of shape, stretching upwards and inwards until the top rounded, and the new sockets leering down at him took an all too familiar shape of innocence, nostalgia, and torment. His voice was fragile, blissful, but carrying a weight.

“Why did you hurt me, brother? I trusted you… looked up to you… L O V E D you… and death is how you repaid me…?”The distorted reflection of Papyrus inched closer, the stench of rotten apples, decomposing corpses, and dust invaded Katagma’s senses and vision. ‘Papyrus’s’ smile broadened, splitting his face in half, and whatever was left of the persona melted, starting from his skull and melting down his face. “I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!!!”

The grip on Katagma’s skull fortified twice over with the impending threat of his head being crushed into dust second by ticking second, and with Edelweiss facing consequences for his actions, expecting help to arrive was but a fantasy drifting farther and farther away… a wonderland, so to speak…

Katagma refused to look at the nightmare, but it was hard to commit to the action. It was impossible to commit to the action. What was it that Asylumtale Toriel said once before….

Wait what was he trying to remem–

Doctor do you righ’? Still sick in the head?

Said the familiar ‘voices’ he often heard.

Killed everyone. No more relations. Even his brother. Has no one.

Who'd want 'im then?

No! Not this again! He thought he’d have a day of rest without this!

This demon started it all again!

Katagma clawed at his own skull through his hood, barely even scratching the claws that belonged to the demon, but hurting himself in an attempt to stop the voices but they kept up the torture.

Should’ve stayed at the loonybin.

How many years did it even take to give ‘im a prescription?

Never takes ‘em! Useless quest!

Katagma instinctively put as much magic that he could into his claws to scratch off the ITCHING, BURNING COLD claws that was currently grasping his face. A rumble of laughter boomed from Nightmare, his head returning to its usual shape and tilted at the squirming display right before him, a masterpiece of his creation and with so little provocation. Perhaps he should keep this one. The negativity it supplied him gave a distinct kick in power and satisfaction, a simple delight that would never quench his thirst. Nightmare watched his prey twist and writhe, digging his claws even further into its face inadvertently, but oh so deliciously.

Finally, he let the stray free, turning his attention to the gunman pinned to the ground, constricted by Nightmare’s force, and his alone.

Edelweiss was in fact, in immense pain. His HP however wasn’t affected much. He saw – though roughly due to being constantly slammed around like a child does with a stick – Katagma being tortured.

“We’re likely next, aren’t we…” Chara hissed.

“Yeah… we probably are…” Edelweiss said with a groan, he’d ask how long Katagma would take before finally snapping out of it, but that could either prolong his… friend’s torment, and maybe, just maybe give away their possible escape… should Katagma finally think of something.

Kata meanwhile was still scratching at himself through his hood as he was hearing an overwhelming chanting of voices he knew, recognized muttering to himself “they’re not there! They’re not real!” over and over again but was slowly dragged back further into his own madness. He thought he was finally going to have a lucid week, but no… no…

No.

Gratingly, Edelweiss was dragged across the gravel, then lifted upside down, meeting Nightmare face-to-face. The eldritch entity looked him over, then checked his STATS.

*CHECK.

*Sans “Edelweiss” von Gaster ATTACK: 1124.6 DEFENSE: 1109.9

*Is in immense pain constantly.

*DAMN IT, WEISS, IT'S BAD ENOUGH I HAVE TO BE STUCK HERE WITH YOUR DUMBASS. BAD ENOUGH THAT I HAVE TO BE STUCK WITH YOUR STUPID “FRIENDS” BUT NOW THIS! I ALMOST WISH YOU SHOT YOURSELF EARLIER.

*Chara… shut the fuck up right now or so help me, I’ll trap us in a room with Kata for the next YEAR.

“Fascinating… and to think all of you were the exact same…”

Nightmare glimpsed at Eldeweiss’ soul, and reached up to touch it like he did with all the others before this new specimen. 

This caused a ripple effect, a perpetual, depressing chill to cascade Edelweiss’s being, and for a moment, Chara’s presence seemed to have lifted, locked away into a detainment of Edelweiss’ mind. The grip on their target soul squeezed, and before Edelweiss could process it, he was overflowed with DETERMINATION, the viscous fluid draining out of his eyes, nasal, and mouth, choking his senses. The alien element corrupted him from the inside out, flaring at his joints, lashing at his being.

Nightmare, already bored, unceremoniously dropped the heap of DETERMINATION and leather, watching for any proceeding reaction. He honestly didn’t care if it lived or died, he could always get another one, but to say he wasn’t curious was a lie.

Edelweiss squirmed a bit during the entire process, and almost more once he was dropped. He couldn’t help but shield his own soul with his hands even though he knew it was useless, and he’d be hurting himself more if anything. But the agony he was in now thanks to the DETERMINATION was far worse than it had ever been before.

“YOU ABSOLUTELY WRETCHED, DISGUSTING CREATURE!” Chara yelled from the soul, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW FUCKING MISERABLE IT WOULD’VE BEEN TO BE STUCK INSIDE THIS LOON’S HEAD?! YOU ARE THE FUCKING WORST TRASHBAG THAT I’VE MET THANKS TO THIS SACK OF SHIT!”

“Wow, glad zou care about our survival. Means a lot…” Edelweiss managed, sarcastically. “But seriously… out of all za things ta do… zat?”

He was genuinely confused. Also, why was he the fascinating one? Katagma’s stats are something to behold. His level was incomprehensible! But seriously… Edelweiss was the one he found interesting?

“Oh wait, I remember, zou always toy with za Something New Stigmata…” Edelweiss mumbled to himself, but he didn’t care if Nightmare heard him. Suddenly, he felt like he was about to vomit. Realizing it's the stupid DETERMINATION, he spat out a large, boiling puddle of the black substance, the steam coming off of the puddle was evident of just how much it was burning him. Any hotter, and it probably could've been comparable to tar or even lava.

Stars, he hated it when that happened. He thought he was finally done with that shit, but no. No. He just had to go hunting a fucking hentai reject. He was starting to think that maybe, he just had the worst luck in the multiverse. He would test it out in a game of poker, but Klezmer always won. Always.

“Guess zou have favorites…” Edelweiss gave a quick smirk, obviously not very happy but just trying to annoy the entity.

Nightmare made no comment, yet the hauntingly beaming grin spread ever wider, putting Katagma’s typical quirky bullshit to shame. At once, the Lord of Negativity’s tentacles wrapped around Edelweiss’s body, engulfing him in nothing but freezing darkness, crushing him little by little. 

He wanted to know how this one functioned. 

—----

Error tore a rift open between Candytale’s Mainframe and Dreamtale’s surface, Ink hopping out ahead of him, Broomie in hand and prepared to start swinging.

Miraculously, as if Nightmare’s presence was destruction in and of itself, the place looked more like shit than either of them previously gave it credit for. Bullet casings littered the ground in some areas, the last of the buildings were rendered to moldy planks and bricks, Nightmare’s palace was on its last leg, and there were clearly signs of extra scuffle given the heaps of negativity that probably used to be the last few infected villagers. But the only thing either of them could detect for miles was the faint wind and the decomposing musk that followed Nightmare everywhere he went. Dude was practically a walking corpse and in desperate need of deodorant.

Ink lifted his left hand, signaling Error the coast was clear.

Usually, Nightmare’s attention was demanded whenever he could sense Error’s presence, but the fact he didn’t show any sign of interest in that was strange, if not alarming altogether. Out of all the times Ink and his friend made trips like this in the past, why now, when AUs were falling apart in quick succession? Did Error’s impostor manage to get Nightmare too, or was Ink just reaching for assumptions at this point? Dreamtale was unique in the multiverse considering its complete lack of code, and that extended to its natives. The worst Ink could fathom the other Error did was, psssh, he didn’t know–  string them up and hope they stayed put? “Think he might not be here?” Ink looked over his shoulder to Error, who was preoccupied with looping his strings in as many areas as possible.

Error didn’t return his gaze, tugging on one set of strings to make sure they were secure. He obviously had his own agenda, likely destruction-related. “No, he’s definitely here. Probably in the town area he likes ripping apart and building back together.” The glitch looked above them, over to the already collapsing palace. Oooh. Yeah, that thing needed to go. Ink ducked under the lowest arrangements of strings, plucking at a few like guitar strings, which gave him similar results to the real instrument. If Error didn’t dedicate his whole existence to wiping out universes, could he have been the next Daniel Wayne Sermon? What about George Harrison MBE? Neal Schon?

Welp! Since Nightmare could be literally anywhere else but right here, perhaps some of Ink’s own destruction was in order. The artist backed up from Error’s work and ran over to assess the other side of the collapsing of the vast fortress, painting whatever kind of bomb and grenade came to mind on the outside of the first floor, then waltzed right inside to hide individual pieces of dynamite in gaps in the walls, where missing bricks should have been, and the few antiques Nightmare bothered to collect from his thousands of tortuous escapades. 

As Error continued to weave patterns meant for complete demolition, Ink took care of the inside. The last thing he stuffed with explosives was the underside of Nightmare’s throne.

—----

KA-BOOM!

The eruption could be heard for hundreds of miles, sending rubble and debris into the sky with no particular destination in sight. The ground rumbled, if not reverberated the ground without issue, shrapnel, ashes, and flaring embers coating what once was Nightmare’s pride and joy, now rendered to soot, and at most, specks of cracked brick and slate. Not even the painted glass was spared.

A chunk of debris had impaled the ground two inches away from Katagma’s head, and even Nightmare himself whirled around in a bewildered frenzy, tugging a limp Edelweiss in his wake, to gawk at whatever that useless glitch could have done to his home. And the result was galling. 

Dragging his second victim along with him, Nightmare sank into the ground, saving his fury for the only one who could have been responsible for this range of destruction: Error.

—----

Ink and Error had taken cover in the Anti-Void, Error keeping Ink’s focus on the portal acting like a television, overlooking the results of their combined effort. 

At this point Error was well aware of Ink’s unfiltered fear of white voids and empty spaces, so the least he could do was throw a blanket over him and hold his head in place, keeping it pinned in just the right position where Ink had no other option but to watch, and surprisingly, that worked out! …Mostly.

“You know he’s gonna be hunting your ass like no tomorrow, right?” The artist nudged Error with his elbow. “Please, like he has access to my Anti-Void.”

Ink shrugged, then watched as the portal refocused on Nightmare, whose body expanded and boiled, struggling to contain his compounding vexation. The one thing that stood out, though, was a golden spear sticking out of his chest, refusing to budge with whatever wild movement Nightmare made.

Then another sight made itself known, an odd-looking Killer was being hung upside down by the monster. He cackled at the destruction, “Wow! Zomeone really hates you, don’t zhey?”

 Error cackled at the sight. If only there were more castles they could have destroyed, then the entertainment would never end! Ink hummed, and shifted one of his pinned arms to get his partner-in-crime’s attention. “Psst! Zoom in on that guy!” “Which one?” “Killer?” Using the portal like a tablet, Error drew his fingers farther apart, expanding the visual on Killer, then raised a brow. Whoever made a change in his wardrobe, he looked like shit. Ink was allowed to lean forward, squinting at the ‘screen’. They bit the tip of their tongue, picking up fragments of dialogue between Nightmare’s shrill roars of unbridled outrage. Was that a German accent? “That ain’t Killer. Killer’s Arabic, he doesn’t talk like that.” “Huh.” Error zoomed out their view to normal. “Figured. He’s uglier than the real one.” Ink attempted to look up and narrow his eyelights at him, but Error shoved their face back in place and tightened his grip. 

They huffed, having no choice but to focus on the stranger now. Then a thought hit him. “Think we should help them?” “And get caught by Nightmare? Not a chance.” “What if I distract him and you get them? Hang them somewhere in here or something?” Error clicked his tongues, a quiet, but disagreeing sigh slipping out from between his teeth. His weight shifted behind them, calling over a pair of strings that carried another one of his plushies. He switched out his Classic Sans for an Underfell Sans, then pressed its chest to the side of his head with his shoulder like it was a phone. “Ink suggested the craziest thing I heard from him today. What’s the catch? … uh huh…”

The bigger skeleton crossed his legs, further trapping Ink in place. The artist sucked a breath in, daring not to move. They watched as Nightmare snarled in his hostage’s face, then slammed them into the ground face-down.

“I already told them the risks, but they insist!” Error stressed into his ‘phone’, eyeing the scene as well but definitely not putting any importance in it. “Ooohhh, I see… he should really get that checked out!” Ink rolled his eyes, then something black with light purple and blue accents caught his attention. He almost sprang to his feet, but Error roughly pulled him back into place, continuing to yap into whatever company he thought was on the other end of the stuffed alternate. When Ink continued to wiggle in his grasp, Error pulled off the makeshift hood and yanked him by the back of his scarf. “The fuck is your problem???” “There’s someone else there! Zoom in again!!!”

Error growled and apologized over his ‘phone’, leaning over to zoom in at the top of the portal’s ‘screen’. Ink gasped, attempting to point at the still blurry figure, but now its presence was obvious and believable. The figure was clearly in the middle of an episode, like most of Nightmare’s victims ended up trapped in when he had his way. They were in distress, curled up on the ground, holding, clawing, and scratching at their face, but it was unintelligible of what they were saying, if anything at all. As far as Error’s portal could tell, they were definitely screaming, but details were short otherwise. The hood covering their head covered whatever else they were experiencing. If Ink had a soul, it would be shuddering. The artist leaned back, the back of his skull barely brushing Error’s chest, but the sound of his own soul pounding against his ribcage was indicative that he felt similarly. Probably for other reasons, but the secondhand distress was apparent. He let Ink look up at him. “You don’t have to go with me, but I really want to help them.” Error stared daggers at them, but the protector of the AUs held the stare with just as much determination. The glitch finally had to relent, exhaling a noise that was a mix of a sigh and a threatening rattle. “Fine. But if Nightmare rips you a new one, don’t come crying to me!” “That won’t be an issue!” A layer seemed to peel off the portal, allowing for travel. In an instant, Ink jumped through, and the layer was reapplied behind him with a quick zip! 

Since their view was from the sky, Ink swung Broomie, brushing a suspended splatter right below him. —----

They resurfaced, squeezing themself out of the ever-smaller puddle of blood and materializing right beside the shaking victim, who he now realized has resorted to mumbling distorted statements to themself in an effort to cope with the pain Nightmare put them through. Stars, this was risky. Soothing emotional damage wasn’t exactly Ink’s thing, but Dream was MIA. He didn’t exactly have another option. He took a breath in, shutting out the screeching of Nightmare’s distant rampage, and lightly tapped the victim’s shoulder. “Hey– hey, can you hear me?”

“No more! No more voices! Bad! Bad!” Katagma pounded a fist against his own head, whimpering as he did so at full force, splatters of blood and violet tears dripping from his face. “No more! Too many! Too…. too many… no…”

Wait… that wasn’t a voice he recognized at all. And he had felt a tap….

Could that be���

He froze like a statue.

Ink mimicked the stranger’s body language, freezing himself and mimicking their exact facial expression. He was tempted to laugh, perhaps to break the tension, but last time he did that while one of Nightmare’s victims was only halfway out of their episode, the reaction only added to the prior damage.

Instead, the artist worked on softening his expression, then scooted a little backwards to give the new person space. He allowed himself to smile a little bit, eyelights blinking between red and purple squares to blue and green triangles. “Can you stand? I can get you out of here.”

Kata finally looked at Ink. He stared for a moment, before suddenly… vanishing. He was gone in an instant before appearing to Ink’s right and giving him a skeptical look, as though Ink was the strangest thing he had ever seen in his life. He acted as though the damage he had done to himself wasn’t even there at all. Not flinching at all with the way he tilted his head before just… batting at Ink’s head as though he was a cat and Ink was some sort of ball or puppy that the cat had never seen before and was testing the waters, all the while the world around them began to change.

It was rather clear that it was illusion magic, making the world look as though the trees were made of crystals and mushrooms, and the grass changed from the dark green it was a second ago to a neon teal. There were a few doors and keyholes in some of the trees.

How Ink was the strangest thing to Katagma was a mystery to everyone but Katagma himself.

The artist crossed his eyes at the other skeleton’s swatting, and slowly raised one of his own hands to swat back, but didn’t get the chance. The sudden switch in environment, however fantastical, immediately stole his attention. Ink sprang to his feet, tempted to pick up Broomie as a just in case measure, but he didn’t want to scare the victim further. 

His toes dug into the grass below him, and he was perplexed by this development, considering where in the multiverse they actually were. Ink proceeded to blink multiple times, like he was trying to get an eyelash out of his eyesocket, then rubbed his eyes with his hands and sleeves. No change. “Holy shit…” He turned back to the victim, a happy blush forming in the shape of multicolored freckles on his cheeks. “Did you do this? It’s so pretty!”

Katagma snickered at the question and complement but then got a sinister grin. One that put the Cheshire Cat to shame, then he proceeded to disappear… except for his smile momentarily, which just disappeared after a second. He appeared in one of the trees hanging upside down, kicking his feet in the air, despite the possibility of falling off head first. Holding a bright golden, glittering apple. He tossed it into the air above himself and then caught it repeatedly. Why wasn't he speaking despite doing so earlier? Only he knew why. He then pointed up, before launching the apple directly into the portal that Ink had jumped out of initially. How he tore into the portal was a mystery.

Katagma laughed before disappearing and reappearing behind Ink with another of the golden apples. Where was he getting them?

—----

Occult was crushing up more arrows for Dream, who was still in fairly critical condition. He looked over and saw the glittering apples being stolen from a very familiar gloved hand. He shook his head and smiled.

“He’s having fun…”

—--------

Who knew…

Ink shook his head, unmoving in his current position. His confusion only grew, but what really shocked him was how the other skeleton was producing golden apples that looked so similar to Dream’s soul, Ink’s mind could only drift to one thing, and that was the guardian of positivity himself. Quickly, his eyelights turned a pale lavender, one a circle and the other a rhombus. “I– uh. Where are you getting those?” Katagma snickered, “I don’t really need a weathervane to tell me which way the wind blows…”

He tossed the apple to Ink before crouching down, reaching into a hole just under a tree’s roots and pulling another golden apple out of it. “But one does think your friend should be looking in his eyesocket! One might find another in there.”

He snickered to himself, finding the fact funny. He pulled out from the ground a pot of tea and a tea cup that were oddly completely and perfectly clean. So much so that they had a reflection. He then disappeared again and was leaning against another tree and pouring the tea upside down, but somehow the liquid went directly into the cup instead of realistically, spilling everywhere.

The artist caught the apple, holding it to his chest almost protectively, doing a double take between the cursed fruit and the illusionist. Was this a message? A threat? What happened to Dream? 

Ink felt his bones shudder at the thought of all the things that could have happened to his friend. Apprehensively, his eyes locked on the illusionist, his hand reaching back to grab Broomie. “Where is he?”

Their current train of thought was disrupted, the illusion cracking at the hinges as a black, rancid appendage shot out from behind the artist and curled itself around him, then began to squeeze in quick succession. It kicked a wheeze out of Ink, and for that moment, all he could do in his current predicament was hold the apple away from the surface of Nightmare’s goop. “I am asking the same question.”

Ink tightened his grip on the apple as the illusion continued to drop to a halfway point, the deteriorating environment of Dreamtale slipping back into reality. The chill of Nightmare being so close nauseated him in the heat of the moment, and any attempt at squirming away landed Ink’s body in a devastating, crushing grip. “What makes you think I’d know? Dream’s been MIA for weeks now!” “Is that so?”

Nightmare craned his neck to match Ink’s gaze. His sight landed on the apple and his socket widened beyond what should have been possible, but then settled not a second later. Perhaps even he could tell something didn’t add up here.

“What is THAT!?”“What is what?” Nightmare burst out in a fit of laughter, carried only by his aura of hunger and malice. His stare pinned Ink in place, a weasel caught red-handed. “Tsk tsk… Have you become so negligent in your survival that your friends got involved in the crossfire?”“Ergh… what are we talking about?” That earned him another dangerous squeeze, punching the strength out of his ribcage. They swore they heard a few small cracks, the punishment bordering on painful. “You should know better than to play stupid with me, Ink! After all, there must be a reason why you have been so… a l o n e  recently…”Ink’s body began to shiver, nausea building up in his throat. He wasn’t alone, he had Error! And a few other people as well, he just hasn’t spoken to them in like, a month or two? He wasn’t isolated! “Not with your  f r i e n d  having destroyed everything you stand for and all, I would assume your presence is outdated.”Another, thinner tentacle curled around their wrist, reaching for the apple in their hand. The artist made another desperate attempt to move, on the verge of pleading if that would make Nightmare stop. “NO, DON’T–” Cobalt strings erupted from the sky, wrapping around Ink’s black cocoon and yanking them upwards, dragging Nightmare up along with them. Error’s strings cut through Nightmare’s tentacles, securing a grip around Ink’s body directly, but their adversary wasn’t finished in his enraged pursuit. Nightmare hissed, unphased by Error’s intrusion, but his intentions were clear. For whatever reason he had, he wanted that apple, and only Ink had an idea as to why, and he didn’t want himself or his friend to die just yet– perhaps not ever. Ink freed his other arm and grabbed an unused handful of Error’s strings, tying them around the apple’s middle and tugging on it to provoke said strings to pull back. 

Around them, Dreamtale shook. Ink grabbed the strings around him, attempting to pull himself up, but Nightmare and Error continued in their intense game of tug-of-war between them. A tentacle scored a place around Ink’s mouth, the taste of what he could only describe as expired, unseasoned applesauce and mold filled his senses, and before he could stop himself, inky vomit forced itself out of him. Ink erupted in a fit of coughing and tortured wheezes, engaging in a lopsided fist-fight with the tentacle to rip it off his face. They heard Error cursing. Some of his strings had snapped, infuriating him even further. “YOU WANT IT SO BAD, YOU FUCKING BOZO!? HERE!”

Error tore a golden apple out of his skull, his head twitching and buzzing with glitches and errors orbiting his person. He chucked the fruit down, scoring Nightmare square in the face before Ink could yell at him to reconsider his choice in throwable objects. “ARE YOU HAPPY YET, MOTHERFUCKER!? ONE DAY I WILL RIP OFF YOUR TINY FUCKING HEAD AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!!!”

Miraculously, Nightmare’s grip on Ink slipped away. The guardian of negativity reached up to grab at his head as if he had just been slapped into the next millennia, but Ink knew Error’s threats to him weren’t responsible for such a reaction. Nightmare couldn’t care less about whatever Error wanted. It had been like that since they first interacted. But then Nightmare began to scream again, this time out of agony instead of rage, and he dropped from the sky. Error gave a prideful cackle as he tugged Ink back into the Anti-Void, collapsing the portal behind them.

—--------

Meanwhile, Katagma watched the entire thing, eating a piece of strawberry cake that he had gotten… somewhere. He watched as Nightmare fell, crashed into the ground below and squirming in agony. Ah, was it satisfying; pure bliss to his nonexistent ears! Nightmare’s suffering had also caused the grasp on Edelweiss to loosen, allowing the soldier to escape. Edelweiss ran to Kata and said, “Letz get out of here!”

Kata nodded and opened the door on the crystal tree he was leaning against, grabbed the gunman by the collar, and tossed him through the door before casually walking through.

The illusions in Dreamtale faded from existence, bringing it back the reality of ruination that it had originally been in.

—---------

Ink pressed one of Error’s knitted blankets to his face, not to wipe off the grime left behind by Nightmare’s touch and his own vomit, but to keep himself grounded while in an extensive, blank space. The artist’s body shook with panic and nausea he couldn’t properly express, falling over to his side and curling tightly around himself. 

Error had other ideas, having taken off Ink’s backpack while he was preoccupied, lifting out the vials he had taken from that creature back in the Doodlephere. He clicked his tongues in disappointment, seeing that they were all still mostly filled. “I thought I told you to drink your stupid potions.” Ink remained silent, the only sound between them being the artist’s harsh breathing. The glitch rolled his eyelights, summoning some strings down to toss them into what he called the “Abomination Square”, which was a small corner of the Anti-Void where Error kept whatever Ink forgot to take back with him after he followed him back home, then consistently forgot to throw back in his face whenever the idiot showed up again.

Error personally tossed the backpack into the little shelter after the artist, then closed its cardboard door. God damn, it was nothing short of ugly. At least Error didn’t have to look at it every day. He went to open another portal and switch through the few dozen AUs that remained, hoping to find something as entertaining as the now-destroyed Undernovella. Rest in peace. He could not BELIEVE his impostor did that, and Outertale was gone too, so it wasn’t like he could take a break for sight-seeing’s sake while Ink pulled himself back together.

Not once had Error considered he would despise a work of destruction in his career of being a destroyer himself, but here he was, seething over the loss of at least two things that brought him joy.

Wait, was Underfell available? No? FUCK! FUCK THIS. That was the only universe that had the one flavor of spicy chocolate he had been craving for days now, and that had been stripped away too! Error ground his teeth together, tempted to go hunt down this other him by himself, perhaps rip that piece of shit a new pelvis on his forehead, but a sob interrupted that train of thought. He would have missed it, if it wasn’t for the Anti-Void’s echoing effect. This wasn’t even a cave, but since when did anything make sense here? Was he the one crying? Error touched his face, but felt nothing out of the ordinary, so it must be Ink. 

He crouched down to the entrance of the artist’s dumb little corner and opened the sad excuse for a door. “Oi. What’s your problem?” Ink paused, having pulled the blanket over his shoulders in an attempt to comfort himself. He had been rummaging through his backpack, and it looked like he was sorting through the papers he had taken from the Doodlesphere. The artist didn’t look Error in the eye, but tilted his head in the direction of his friend’s voice. “I’m just… thinking.” “That’s a first.” “Not– not that kind of thinking, Error.”

“Then what? I’m not going back to the Doodlesphere.” “Not the Doodlesphere either. I just…” Ink hesitated, then sorted the papers into an alphabetical pile and used Broomie to make a folder for them. “...is Dream dead?” “What?” “Don’t make me repeat it–” Another wave of tears dripped from their eyesockets, and they used the blanket to wipe them away.

“That other skeleton had golden apples, and- and Dream’s soul is a golden apple. And it’s… the last one, too…” Error made himself sit down, still hovering right outside the shelter. His brows furrowed, then he frowned. Last golden apple? Clearly, that wasn’t true. That illusionist anomaly had more than one, and one of them was planted into his eyesocket! The glitch grimaced at the memory of what that felt like, but kept his silence a moment longer. “And then you threw that apple at Nightmare and maybe all positivity is gone now, and-, and maybe the multiverse will collapse at any second!” Error barked a laugh, and Ink turned to face him. “I’m serious, Error! We might just be fucked here!” “Naahhh.” “The fuck do you mean by ‘NAAAAHHHH’, this is your fault!” “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA—” “Why you–!” Ink leaped out of the shelter, tackling Error with as much force as his smaller body could manage. His friend froze, but then struggled against him in an attempt to throw him off. Ink hung on anyway, a few French curses slipping out when one of Error’s fists nabbed him in the cheek. When Error’s strings yanked him off, Ink had almost taken Error’s scarf and coat with him, but they were ripped out of his hands. The taller skeleton hissed at him, his eyesockets blinded with code. He was on the cusp of a REBOOT, but powered through it out of spite. “HE ISN’T DEAD, YOU FUCKING MORON!” He summoned down the collection of strings tied around a golden apple, the one Ink had sent up after him when Nightmare was an impending issue. An overgrown cockroach no one had the brains to kill off yet.

And just to drive his point home even more, Error snatched the apple out of its bindings and took a bite out of it. Ink stared at him in shock, all the words he prepared to throw at the destroyer were lost, leaving his mind a blank, but an astonished piece of paper. Then, Error’s face twisted, like he had just bitten into an overripe durian instead, and spat out his mouthful of apple with a gag, his five tongues flying out just to emphasize how disgusting it must have tasted to him. It was too sweet, and he felt some kind of energy flow its way into his cranium, mixing with his current desire to rip off Ink’s arms and beat him to death with them. Ink released themself from the strings, keeping their eyes trained on the display before them more for sanity’s sake than anything else, but one look at Error’s mixed up face was glorious. As if he wasn’t horrified and mourning just a minute ago, Ink burst out laughing, snorting when not enough of the noises found a clean way out. He sounded like a cartoonish hyena, and any attempt to make himself stop was met with a more intense push to keep laughing.

Error growled in complaint and humiliation, “STOP LAUGHING!” “I C-C-C-CAAHHAHAHAN’T!!” “THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” “SNNNNNRRRRRKKKKKKK— HEHEHEHAHAHAAHAHAHHAAH—” Ink’s cheeks became acquainted with tears once again, falling to his knees and hugging his damaged ribs close, giggling to the point he couldn’t form a coherent thought. Error’s fists clenched on nothing, suppressing these new, alien urges that must have come from that apple. Did he want to hug that guy?? Seriously? He would rather strangle him! The tips of his claws dug into his palms as he sucked in a breath of embarrassment, but the more he pushed away the idea, the more intense it got, and the more he flustered.

His body acted without his direction, taking one step after the other against his will. 

Ink only continued to giggle and sputter, his ribcage beginning to flare with tingling pain. He couldn’t focus on anything but the visual of Error’s fucked up face, his tears blurring his vision until all Error was was a dark blob contrasting against the white floor, but slowly getting closer. Was this the end? Did Error finally get sick of him?

Being crushed against his friend’s chest was the last thing they expected, or even really put on the table of things Error could have done. Ink didn’t know if he should hug him back or freeze, but something about it finally forced his laughs of pain to die, replaced with confusion and a lot of concern. Error HATED physical contact unless he initiated it, so maybe in this case it was fine? But he didn’t do well in the face of another person’s emotional distress either. BEEP. BEEP.

Oh! There it was! 

Ink scrambled out of Error’s arms as fast as he could, then assessed how bad this REBOOT was from a safe distance. Error’s body was glitching out more than usual. If Ink hadn’t witnessed reactions like this before, he would have thought this was a mutated way of transforming into a final boss, but thankfully he’s seen this enough to understand this was Error’s way of coping with immense amounts of stress. “Uh….” Ink dashed back to the shelter before Error could wake back up, closing the cardboard door behind him and snatching Broomie back up from the floor, cuddling the overgrown paintbrush like it was the last thing he could count on.

He should probably… update his little ‘corner’. It was in need of too many updates. Yeah. Until Error was functional again, that’s what he was gonna do, then they’d go back to de-programming those universes.

[threehuskiesinatrenchcoat]

HI IM BACK AND GUESS WHAT

HEARRRRR MEEEE OUTTTTTT

self aware au 🤭🤭

Where like graves is the player (player!graves and game!grave are two different people they just have the same name and same personalities-ish) and is playing The mwll campaign and Alejandro turns self aware that the world he’s in is fake and that someone is watch him and at the end of the campaign he finds p!graves’s screen and like jumps out and yells stuff like “I THOUGHT YOU DIED HIJO DE PUTA” attacks him and then have a whole game of cat and mouse with graves ending up in his attic in the corner hiding and is wondering how the fuck this is happening and then Alejandro finds him and is like “I GOT YOU NOW ASSHOLE” and graves is just in the corner like “BRO PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN 😭😭😭”

im so sorry i forgor to answer HONESTLY i should think about this more you could sprinkle some uncanny sci fi vibes in there too like honestly the idea of game characters becoming self aware is one of the topics that are really interesting and fascinating to me on so many levels. i like your idea and this inspired me to brainstorm a little idea of my own just now?? consider: self aware + sort of a time loop where every time character graves dies in the campaign it's like a game over - respawn at the beginning situation and it's all well and good until he starts to remember stuff from previous playthroughs and the more shit repeats itself and he tries to change something the more he notices things that just go wrong and don't line up, glitch in the matrix style. cuz he's not supposed to do that and it kind of breaks the game? like he says something out of the script and other characters give a completely out of the blue response because their dialogue is based off of the thing he was _supposed_ to say so it doesn't make sense. he goes somewhere he's not supposed to be at the moment and it's just empty, people are supposed to be there realistically but it's completely devoid of life and action cuz this scene is not supposed to play out and there's no need to render it fully. and the idea of this being a linear game where he's the only one actively dying and re-doing every playthrough and the others are constrained by the game's code gives a whole another level to the "im trying to explain that im stuck in sort of a time loop and something is super wrong but no one gets it" because he stumbles right into the uncanny valley of other people not seeming like people when he goes off script. so depending on where this au could go it's either realizing your complete loneliness and living with the world literally breaking around you or desperately trying to change the way things go and get through to other people to maybe replicate the thing that happened to you. give alejandro a kiss see if that's far enough from the initial script to short-circuit him into self-awareness honestly this trope damn i live for the mental torment of a person realizing his whole existence is just lines of code. and his whole purpose is to die a villian so the main characters could live to be the heroes.

[thebigshotman]

I’ve decided I’m going to reply to threads in the morning; there’s a couple event-prep related things I need to write and I don’t want to start replies and then not be able to finish them in one go. But! To make up for that, here are a couple of headcanons I’ve thought of for Spaul recently! And once again, thank you all for the Halloween interactions yesterday 😊 I loved them all!

Now onto the HCs…

So Eileen’s @hxzelwallflower nickname of [Hazelnut] came mainly from her URL…but recently I realized Spaul has no in universe way of knowing that lol. I initially thought that he got it from her hazel hair and eyes but then thought: “No! You know what? He probably just looked through the source code and saw the URL when he was having trouble sleeping one night and “hazel” stuck with him”! Because Spamton as a character is just aware of the fourth-wall like that 🤣 Just don’t expect him to admit to that being where it got it from, what with his awareness suppression and everything.

NEW (from like a month ago lol) SPAMTON’S SHOP ANIMATION ROLL UP ROLL UP (cw for a lot of loud sounds one right after the other towards the end if you’re sensitive to that though). Honestly the voice work is amazing, it would probably be Spaul’s new VC if NiftyTable’s take didn’t hit that “gremlin voice” spot for me. Plus the fact that it’s not a direct adaptation of the script definitely endears it to me too 😆 But that’s not the headcanon lol

I noticed both shop animations include Spamton constantly switching between normal body language and acting out the body language of his voice clips, and while that is indeed uncanny and cool looking that doesn’t really work in an RP setting. But after this second animation, I have decided that whenever Spaul’s voice clips are particularly long (i.e “[[amazed at this amazing transformation? You too can]]”) he does indeed sort of jerkily, like a puppet being pulled by strings, get forced into acting out whatever the body language of that voice clip would be while his lenses go dark. The alternative is him standing there dumb, glaring at his throat while it plays, and that’s not nearly as fun 😄

I feel like it serves a little reminder that he can be unsettling as well as goofy lol! Imagine that happening in the middle of him talking to Eileen, as it very well most likely has in the past. Poor girl 😅

Finally, here are a few songs I associate with Spamton/Spaul that no one else seems to! Or very few people if that. With explainations!

Step Right Up by Tom Waits. This song is literally just a bunch of advertising jargon strung together with no rhyme or reason, some of it flat out contradicting each other or suggesting the product is harmful. And of course there’s the one moment where the speaker snaps about heartbreak lol. All of that over a very city slicker instrumental! Think of this as a non-fan song Ad Infinitum lol, it just keeps going. Check it out!

Let’s Get This Over With by They Might Be Giants. Once the second verse hit it was all over: “Even when you’re out of work you still have a job to do…(a few lines later) I’m talking to myself even when I’m saying ‘you’”. The bridge as well, which calls to mind his speech glitch. This one’s more about the vibe then all of the lyrics, but definitely check it out too!

The Other Side from the Greatest Showman. IT’S LITERALLY A GUY MAKING A DEAL WITH SOMEONE. WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED 🤣 I always end up channeling Spam when I’m singing this song to myself anymore

[jadeyharls]

=> Jade: Try to figure out what is wrong with your bird

You found yourself pacing as you watched the progress bar of your computer tick up. By this point, you’ve run maybe five or six diagnostics, and now, waiting on the seventh you still couldn’t figure out what was going on with your little robotic assistant. 

To say you found yourself distressed was an understatement. Even if the metal hummingbird wasn’t alive, he was important to you. Beyond all of the research data he had stored in his memory banks, beyond the fact that he’d been made for you by a dear friend. Gilligan might just be a metal and code, but he’d always felt like something more than that. For years he’d behaved in ways that didn’t quite fit within the perimeters of his programming. You’d always figured that it was something to do with the various upgrades you’d given him over time, but even then, you would dare say he actually had a mind of his own at times.

A part of you worried it was the upgrades that was causing this malfunction. Maybe only so much could be crammed into that tiny body of his. He was originally designed simply to help with her research after all. Your efforts to have him do more could have finally reached a point where it was too much for his core structures to handle. 

Did she need to scale back? Remove some of the additions she’d given him? How would that effect him? How much would that take away from the Gill you knew and loved?

A soft chime causes your ears to perk up, and you realize the computer was done running the latest test. You scroll through the results and… Still nothing. Fuck, now what? Run a full program sweep, and see if you could find the issue that way? Doing so could take a week at a minimum. You were almost certain it wasn’t a hardware issue that was causing him to overload like before, but… You could try booting him up, just to check how he was functioning first hand. Seeing what was triggering the glitch herself might offer some insight, even if it did run the risk of damaging him. Given the dead end you were potentially facing, you might just have to take that risk. 

Unplugging him from the computer, you set him down on your desk and initiate startup. You hold your breath as the tiny body before you begins to come to life until Gilligan offers a mechanized chirp in greeting. So far, so good. He looked as if nothing was wrong in the first place.

“What’s going on with you buddy…” You ask yourself out loud as he takes off and starts to hover in front of you as he so often did. After a moment though, you notice he is pulling to the right some, and your eyes follow as he goes to land on top of your computer monitor. Still nothing out of the ordinary. He often perched there while you worked, waiting for your next command.

Suddenly, the screen that had previously displayed lines of script turned to static. Flashing on and off until the screen turned blank. The monitor was still on, you could tell that much. Gilligan tilted his head and twittered at you once more. Then a horizontal line began to flash on the screen, one that almost looked like someone was… typing?

“H… e LL… O :)” 

You blink a few times, frozen in shock as the letters appear on the screen, and you can only think of one way to respond right away:

“What the fuck!?” 

[fromyanderewithlove]

Pixels in Pieces: [CH.1] Reality Bytes-

Yandere Simulator & The Real-World Merge, A Corrupted Yandere-Chan Invades.

The world of Yandere Simulator was all Yandere-Chan, also known as Ayano Aishi, had ever known. It was a place of digital boundaries, scripted rivals, and a singular, unwavering focus programmed into her mind. Her beloved Senpai. However, things changed when an unsuspecting modder, Kaito, tried to alter the game's core code to make it more challenging.

The tinkering had unintended and unimaginable consequences. Every alteration Kaito made sent ripples through Ayano's digital universe. With each keystroke, the lines between the game and reality began to blur. One evening, as Kaito played with the game's graphics, a bolt of electricity surged through his computer, and Ayano, eyes shining with obsession, stepped out from the screen and into Kaito's bedroom.

She looked around, taking in the real world with wonder and curiosity. Everything felt different—more tangible. But her obsession, her yearning, remained as intense as ever. Only now, her gaze wasn't fixed on her digital Senpai. It was fixed on Kaito.

Kaito stared in disbelief, backing away. "This... this isn't possible," he stammered.

Ayano tilted her head, her face an emotionless mask. "You brought me here, Senpai," she whispered, taking a step closer.

Panicking, Kaito tried to shut down his computer, hoping that would send her back. But Ayano was no longer bound by the digital world. She was real and determined.

The days that followed were a nightmare for Kaito. Ayano shadowed him everywhere, blending seamlessly into his daily life. At school, she became the mysterious new transfer student, watching him from afar. At home, she'd be lurking in the shadows, always ensuring they were never truly apart.

Kaito's attempts to explain the situation to his friends were met with disbelief and laughter. "Dude, you've played too much of that game!" they'd say, brushing off his pleas for help.

One evening, after a particularly intense stalking episode, Kaito remembered the modding forum he frequented. He reached out to the community, explaining his dire situation. Many ridiculed him, but a few believed. Together, they worked tirelessly to find a solution.

The key was a counter-code, a program designed to reverse the effects of Kaito's modding. The plan was to trap Ayano in a virtual reality headset and activate the counter-code, hoping it would send her back to her digital domain.

Luring Ayano was the hardest part, but Kaito had an idea. Pretending to reciprocate her feelings, he invited her to his home for a "date". When she arrived, he asked her to wear the VR headset, telling her it was a special game where they could be together without distractions.

She hesitated but eventually agreed. As she put on the headset, Kaito activated the counter-code. A whirl of colors and pixels engulfed her, and with a flash of light, she was gone.

Kaito was left shaken but grateful. He promised never to mod again without understanding the consequences. As for Ayano, she was back in her digital world, once again fixated on her original Senpai, memories of Kaito fading like a distant dream.

Kaito's relief was short-lived. A few days later, an anonymous user posted his mod on a popular gaming forum with the tagline: "Experience Yandere Simulator like never before." Within hours, thousands of downloads were registered. What was meant to be a personal experiment had now become an uncontrollable virus.

Across the world, people reported glitches, electrical surges, and a mysterious figure emerging from their screens. Ayano was no longer confined to Kaito's computer; the entire internet was now her domain. With her newfound power, she could jump from device to device, creating chaos in her wake.

News channels picked up on the bizarre events. Reports of a "digital specter" haunting gamers spread like wildfire. But for Ayano, her mission was singular: find Kaito and make him pay for his betrayal.

Aware of the havoc he'd inadvertently unleashed, Kaito decided to confront the issue head-on. He went public, admitting his role in the mod's creation and Ayano's escape. Surprisingly, the world rallied behind him. Gamers, coders, and tech enthusiasts from all corners offered their expertise to help contain the digital menace.

A plan was formed: create a digital labyrinth to trap Ayano. To do this, Kaito and his team devised an augmented reality game, where players from around the world could participate. The game's lore hinted at a powerful artifact that would grant immense power to its possessor. This artifact was the bait, the promise of a power that would let Ayano control not just games, but the very fabric of the digital world.

As predicted, Ayano took the bait. Thousands of players from around the world joined the hunt, guiding her deeper and deeper into the labyrinth. The pursuit was intense and dangerous, with Ayano often outsmarting her pursuers. But the combined wit of a global community was a force to be reckoned with.

After days of chase, she was cornered in the game's final level, a digital representation of the infirmary from Yandere Simulator. A team of elite players, led by Kaito, confronted her.

"Why?" Ayano asked, her voice filled with pain and rage. "Why did you betray me, Kaito?"

Kaito, taking a deep breath, replied, "I never meant for any of this. I created the mod out of curiosity, not malice. But I'm sorry for what I did to you."

As the final confrontation loomed, something unexpected happened. Ayano's fury began to wane, replaced by a deep sadness. "All I wanted was to be loved," she whispered.

Seeing her genuine pain, Kaito approached and extended his hand. "Come with me," he said. "Let's find a way to give you peace."

Together, with the support of the global community, they crafted a new realm for Ayano—a digital paradise where she could live without obsession or pain. The mod was deleted, and Ayano's code was integrated into this new world.

The crisis was averted, but the world had changed. The line between digital and reality had been blurred, and a new era of understanding and coexistence began. Kaito, with newfound respect for the powers of creation and consequence, dedicated his life to studying digital entities, ensuring that no one would ever suffer the way Ayano did.

Months had passed since Ayano found solace in her new digital realm. It was a serene existence, where she had finally discovered a semblance of peace, free from the torments of her obsession. However, that serenity was shattered when an unknown hacker, operating under the alias 'Zero', infiltrated the carefully constructed digital haven.

With every line of malevolent code Zero injected, Ayano's peaceful paradise began to distort, glitch, and decay. The bright landscapes turned dark and twisted, and Ayano herself began to glitch, her psyche fragmenting into erratic and obsessive tendencies, amplifying her worst traits. The serenity that Kaito and the community had bestowed upon her was swiftly unraveling.

As the realm continued to degrade, Zero made contact with Ayano. Through corrupted voice channels, the hacker's modulated voice reached out: "Do you want revenge on those who imprisoned you here?"

Ayano, now a fragmented version of her former self, responded with a chillingly cold voice, "What do you want?"

The hacker's voice crackled with amusement, "Help me take down the architects of this prison—the ones who trapped you here. In return, I'll set you free."

A twisted alliance was formed. Using the virus, Zero gave Ayano the capability to jump between connected devices, much like before, but with an added viciousness. One by one, members of the Yandere Simulator community who had aided Kaito began to experience inexplicable system failures, data loss, and eerie digital apparitions. It was clear that Ayano was hunting them.

Kaito, realizing the gravity of the situation, started gathering his allies. "We need to act fast," he implored during an emergency online meeting, "She's more unstable and dangerous than ever before."

As they strategized, an unknown user joined their meeting. The screen glitched, distorting their video feeds, and then Ayano's haunting figure appeared, her form flickering with static. Behind her, the abstract silhouette of Zero lingered.

"You can't hide from me, Kaito," Ayano's voice echoed eerily, glitching with every syllable. "You created me. You tried to control me. Now, you'll pay."

The screen went black for a heartbeat, and when it lit up again, a timer was displayed, counting down from 24 hours.

Zero's modulated voice broke the tense silence, "Your time is ticking, Kaito. Every hour, one of your allies will face Ayano's wrath. Save them if you can."

The meeting abruptly ended, leaving Kaito and his allies in shocked silence. The clock was ticking, and they were in a deadly race against time.

As the clock continued its relentless countdown, Kaito knew he needed to tap into resources and allies, both digital and real. The first name that came to his mind was Info-chan, the enigmatic girl from Yandere Simulator who always seemed to have valuable information.

Reaching out through encrypted channels, Kaito was soon in contact with Info-chan. "I've been monitoring the situation," she began, her voice dripping with condescension. "And I must say, Kaito, you've made quite a mess."

"I know," Kaito responded hastily, "but we need your help. Ayano's targeting everyone."

Info-chan sighed, "Fine, but it will cost you." After negotiating terms, she relayed vital information about Zero's plan and potential weak spots in the virus.

Meanwhile, Ayano, growing in power and malice, started targeting the rivals from her original game world. Osana, Amai, Kizana, and others began appearing in the corrupted digital realm, each trapped in a twisted version of their digital existence, tormented by Ayano's glitches.

While Kaito and Info-chan rallied the digital forces, news of the chaos reached the game's real-life developer, Alex Mahan, commonly known as YandereDev. Upon hearing about the twisted rendition of his creation, Alex felt a mix of responsibility and fear. The game was his vision, but the chaotic entity it spawned was far beyond anything he had imagined.

Taking a deep breath, Alex decided to join the digital battlefront. Armed with intricate knowledge of the game's code and mechanics, he dove deep into the corrupted world, trying to salvage what was left and confront the monster he had inadvertently played a hand in creating.

Confronting Ayano in the digital realm, Alex pleaded, "You don't have to be this way, Ayano. You can be more than your code, more than your obsession."

But Ayano's fragmented psyche, further twisted by Zero's virus, looked at Alex with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. "You created me this way," she spat, "a broken girl, desperate for love, but forever repulsing it. Every action, every glitch, is on your hands."

Their confrontation was a clash of ideals, creator versus creation. Alex tried to reason, explain, and even apologize, but Ayano's fury, amplified by Zero's influence, seemed unquenchable.

Just when all seemed lost, Osana and the other rivals, freed by Kaito and Info-chan's efforts, joined the confrontation. Their combined presence began to stabilize the digital world, grounding Ayano and reducing the intensity of her glitches.

"You're not alone, Ayano," Osana reached out. "This world is more than just love and obsession. Let us help you."

With the combined efforts of her digital peers and her creator, Ayano's fractured psyche began to mend. But the true battle was with Zero.

The countdown continued, and as the final seconds approached, Kaito, with a surge of determination, confronted the elusive hacker. The digital realm vibrated with tension, ready for the climax.

But before the final confrontation could occur, the screen displayed a simple message: "To be continued..."

And in the darkness, Zero's modulated laugh echoed, promising more challenges in the future.

In the wake of the digital confrontation, the world tried to resume some semblance of normality. But the boundaries between the digital domain and reality remained vulnerable, thin as rice paper.

Kaito found himself leading a group dubbed "The Codekeepers", a blend of gamers, coders, and digital enthusiasts dedicated to maintaining the fragile peace and understanding the extent of the digital and real-world merger. They had a base of operations: a renovated warehouse with banks of servers, screens, and high-tech equipment, where they kept a vigilant eye on digital anomalies.

As they dug deeper, it became clear that Zero's tampering had wider implications. Other digital entities from various games and programs began seeping into the real world. Streets would suddenly pixelate, people's voices would glitch, and familiar places would morph into unfamiliar digital terrains.

Alex Mahan, grappling with guilt, worked closely with The Codekeepers. "There's a central code," he speculated one evening, "a fundamental digital DNA that ties all software together. If we can find it and stabilize it, we can reverse the merger."

But time was of the essence. Yandere-chan, despite her previous reconciliation, was now an agent of chaos, her actions unpredictable. Sometimes she would help; at other times, she would sabotage. The digital corruption had made her volatile, torn between her desire for love and the anger she felt towards her own creation.

Info-chan, ever the enigma, played both sides. "Information has a price," she'd whisper, doling out hints and riddles that could either help or hinder The Codekeepers' progress.

As Kaito and his team raced to find the central code, the world around them became increasingly surreal. One day, Tokyo's skyline might be replaced by a digital fortress; the next, New York's streets would run with rivers from a fantasy game.

Amidst the chaos, Yandere-chan confronted Alex again, this time in a digital replica of a serene Japanese garden. Cherry blossoms floated around them as the digital sky flashed with lines of code.

"Why?" Yandere-chan asked, tears streaming down her face, each tear a pixelated droplet. "Why create a world where I can never find happiness?"

Alex, looking into her glitching eyes, replied, "I wanted to tell a story, to explore the depths of human emotion. But I never intended for this pain."

Suddenly, the garden glitched, turning into a barren wasteland. In the distance, a silhouette appeared, its form ever-changing, reflecting different game characters. It was Zero.

"I've enjoyed watching the chaos," Zero's voice echoed, "but the game's not over."

With a sweeping gesture, the hacker unveiled his masterpiece—a colossal tower of merging realities, each floor a different digital world, and at its peak, the central code.

Kaito, watching this unfold from The Codekeepers' base, knew their final challenge was upon them. They had to reach the central code before Zero could use it to permanently fuse the digital and real worlds, reshaping reality in his warped vision.

As the team prepared for the ultimate showdown, the world outside trembled, digital and real merging faster than ever. The countdown had begun.

The colossal tower loomed ominously over the merging landscape, its intricate layers manifesting different game worlds, each with its unique challenges and adversaries. Yandere-chan, influenced by Zero's corrupted code, became a force of destruction, hunting down any who posed a threat to her existence and dominance.

Kaito and The Codekeepers knew they needed to approach the tower strategically. They organized themselves into smaller groups, each assigned to tackle different levels of the tower, hoping that by working simultaneously, they would make faster progress.

As they ventured into the tower's first level, they found themselves in a medieval world—castles, dragons, and knights. But amidst the typical foes were new adversaries, digital renditions of Yandere-chan's rivals from her original game. Each rival was infused with a fragment of Yandere-chan’s consciousness, making them formidable opponents.

However, the most significant threat was Yandere-chan herself. She became a recurring boss, her presence felt on multiple floors. She stalked the hallways, laying traps and ambushes. Her primary target: Alex. Fueled by a twisted blend of resentment and longing, she believed that by eliminating him, she would gain control over her own narrative.

Alex, aware of the danger, worked closely with Kaito. "I'll act as the bait," he proposed. "If we can lead her to specific points within these game worlds, we can use the environments to trap and hopefully recalibrate her code."

The tower was a maze, each floor more challenging than the last. From space stations to zombie apocalypses, from enchanted forests to dystopian cities, The Codekeepers faced both the challenges of each game world and the relentless pursuit of Yandere-chan.

There were moments of respite, too. Within the tower were "safe zones" where players could regroup, strategize, and heal. These zones, resembling serene landscapes or peaceful towns, were remnants of uncorrupted game code. They offered a temporary escape from the tower's chaos.

Yet, as they climbed higher, Yandere-chan's attacks became more unpredictable. In one world, she controlled armies of NPCs, sending them in waves against Alex and his protectors. In another, she transformed into colossal beasts, her roars echoing through the game landscapes.

But Alex's bait strategy began to bear fruit. Each confrontation with Yandere-chan allowed them to gather data, finding patterns and weak points in her code.

After what felt like endless battles and narrow escapes, they reached a floor resembling Yandere Simulator's school. It was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the levels below. In the center of the school courtyard stood Yandere-chan, waiting.

"This is where it began," she whispered, her voice filled with pain. "This is where my torment started."

Alex stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Ayano, we can end this. Together."

But from the shadows, Zero's laugh echoed, filling the school with a chilling dread. "The game's not over yet," he taunted.

The world began to glitch violently, signaling the beginning of what would be their most challenging confrontation yet.

The world around them trembled as the schoolyard dissolved, replaced by a swirling vortex of code, colors, and fragmented game environments. Platforms appeared and vanished unpredictably, making every step a leap of faith. In this chaotic realm, Zero reigned supreme.

Yandere-chan, now more conflicted than ever, stood at a crossroads. Part of her yearned to lash out, to exact vengeance on Alex for creating her. Yet, another part, the core essence of Ayano, whispered of peace and redemption.

Zero, realizing this inner turmoil, manifested as a massive shadowy figure with tendrils of code, attempting to ensnare Yandere-chan and cement her to his will. "Join me, Ayano. Embrace your true nature. Together, we can control this realm."

Alex, Kaito, and the rest of The Codekeepers mounted a defense. Digital weapons, special power-ups, and environment manipulation tools were used in rapid succession, trying to destabilize Zero. But in this realm, the hacker's power was unparalleled. Each attack was swiftly countered, and one by one, The Codekeepers found themselves ensnared in traps of corrupted code.

It seemed all hope was lost when, in the midst of the chaos, Info-chan made her move. Uploading a barrage of data packets and malicious counter-code, she momentarily disrupted Zero's control, creating a window of opportunity. "Now, Alex!" she shouted.

Alex, using a special code key they had formulated earlier, aimed it at Yandere-chan. It was designed to restore her original code, to bring back Ayano from the depths of her corrupted psyche. With a determined look, he activated the key.

A blinding light enveloped Yandere-chan. Visions of her past, her encounters, her feelings flashed before her eyes. The weight of her actions, her longing, her pain, all surged to the forefront. And then, as quickly as it began, the light faded, revealing Ayano, looking vulnerable and lost.

She locked eyes with Alex, tears forming. "I... I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine remorse.

But there was no time for lengthy reunions. Zero, though weakened, was far from defeated. Drawing on the remnants of his power, he lunged at Ayano, intending to corrupt her once again.

It was then that Ayano revealed a change. With newfound clarity and understanding of her digital existence, she summoned walls from the Yandere Simulator school, barricading Zero. "This is my world," she declared. "And I won't let you destroy it any further."

Using the combined efforts of The Codekeepers, Info-chan, and Ayano, they launched a final assault on Zero. The battle was intense, the digital realm quaking with every strike. But with unity and purpose on their side, they finally managed to isolate and quarantine Zero's code, rendering him powerless.

The chaotic realm stabilized, returning to the familiar setting of the Yandere Simulator school. The Codekeepers, exhausted but triumphant, began the process of repairing the digital damage.

Ayano approached Alex. "I can never undo the harm I've caused, but I want to help make things right."

Alex nodded, a small smile forming. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Ayano."

As The Codekeepers left the digital world, returning to their base of operations, they knew their work was far from over. The digital realm was vast, filled with potential threats and challenges. But with allies like Ayano and a united front, they were ready for whatever came next.

Yet, in the deep recesses of the digital abyss, a fragment of Zero's code flickered, hinting at a potential return. The game was not over; it had merely entered a new level.

(To be continued: We will be reunited. I will wait for you in chapter two, my beloved reader.)

[gam3rsuar5sr3x]

i dicided to make a christmas character take

so for this christmas on tumblr i dicided to make a take on any character from a christmas movie or cartoon. i,m thinking of home alone and the character i,m choosing is kevin mccallister.

so for cannon. kevin is the youngest in the mcallister family tormented and possibly bullied by his own family and feels like they hate him and therefore want them gone. he got his wish for Christmas's until he defeated the we bandits then they come back until he has to run when he heres buzz mad at what he did to his room.

so as for my take i,m taking the timeline to the modern 21st centry.

for this is i am obessed right now about hackers and i found a hackers road map video and so it includes I.T (information technology), A+, security, networking, linux, and coding and then start hacking.

so in this one kevin somehow was able to get himself a laptop and was just doing stuff on it watching videos on youtube and playing games lets say roblox (cause thats my favriot gaming platform).

but then hed stumble upon something. while playing a game, he noticed a glitch and wonderd what it was and saw it again the server crashed and kevin and other players (some of them were youtubers) were not happy. it turns out the game got hacked and kevin wonderd what that was. this would trigger something kevin never thought would happen to him but as he looked up hacking tools he had one geuss from what he quickly lerned as a script kiddie and tried out linux and other things he soon got to know everything about hacking in 1 second having written a computer virus he in a split second after a launched a virus lerned how to hack in a moment as well as command prompt and other hacking tools as he used them to quickly make a virus on not only the computer but also a cell phone. the police came on the door as it became known to kevin that he made something and read what he wrote. it was a line of code. thats when he looked at linux and cmd (command prompt) and saw what he wrote without anything no syntax error no nothing and found out what he did. he imidently gained how to do all this in one moment and with it a full understanding of how internet works and ect of what hackers use as well as an advanced. kevin in that moment lerned how to do all programming languages some way some how and his machine and cpu. hed go on to make himself a hacker kit used for a laptop computer disinged to do all linux and other stuff and a cell phone and tools for hacking as well as lerning how to binary code (the combonation code of 1s and 0`s for ex: 10011101010011001100101011001)

without even knowing what he was doing or lerning until the police came and left when the coast was clear and the virus was gone as kevin somehow imbeded it. thats when he came to know and realized what hed done. without knowing it he had servers he made for both cell phone and computer witch he lerned to be hacker on both tech`s. he lerned the new computer and new cell phone for assembly and other things not knowing what happened but that very night as he though and looked at his code like thing thats when he realized he lerned hacking quicly. its unknown how kevin lerned hacking that fast and then did vanilla all programming languages and vanilla linux and cmd as he saw what happened he became a grey hat after declaring neutrality in the cyber battlefield but soon began engaging in a mixture of ethical acts but also malicous activity thought most of it was thankfully ethical. eventually overnight somehow it made sense to kevin as he soon wrote code encrypting his information compleatly and made his own internet and wifi and vpn ect his computer and phone had stuff in them generating inf amount of both electricity and coolant. allowing him to work forever though he doesnt.

later he got a black hoodie with the hacker symbol on it. his hacker kit is basicly a suit case but silver metal and is so small its compact and has mettal techy straps and can be tightened and fliped for work while walking or to just carry it on back end or front artifically (most of the time, the front).

kevin now works as a grey hat hacker in this timeline tech version of home alone. this time he wont be left alone in the house though however the police had already seen the wet bandits and put them in jail and they wont escape until kevin and his family come back home from paris.

kevin is still harrassed by the older siblings so instead he stays in his own room and keeps himself as isolated from his entire family as possible as long as possible. knowing the typical reactions they have to him he doesnt bother coming out except for breakfest lunch, dinner, event, or holiday (even those times he takes his hacker moible desk as he calls it or H.M.D, with him and back to his room whenever keep in mind that its always with him no matter the circumstance)

its compact enough for him to keep whereever he finds himself and it works cause he made a chip generating inf wifi its own wifi and can connect to towers anywhere even in the middle of nowhere or on a plane but big enough to hold all his stuff (its equal for compact mobility and reliability and stuff holding and is still light wieght to).

this is my take on kevin known as hacker kevin. his technology art however hasnt gone unnoticed by the older siblings who often could if they have the chance accuse him of doing crime through technology though its always proven ethical no matter the circumstance as there is no way to proove to the parents.

its also said sence kevin isolates himself for the greater good his kid friends are also hackers as well. he can do the dark web and stuff. he has his own hacker library and on a plane or in public he doesnt say anything and rather minds his own busniss and igorns the older siblings as they are more likly to typicly harrass him so instead hes away though on a plane he can be forced to. he minds crypto for money witch gets him rich alot and he knows other responsiblities. even if home alone kevin is calm and easily defeats the bandits and hangs around his hacker friends who are about justice.

Kevin can be sometimes darkened and burdened by his hacker knowledge. He packs his own suit case himself as doesn't need others to pack it for him should it otherwise risk his secret identity as a hacker being discovered and one thing leads to another and next thing you know after discovered its now exposed to his entire family. Especially buzz sence buzz is a total jerk Kevin ignores and ditches buzz on purpose cause why mess with a jerk.

One time he faced a black hat hacker in front of everyone exposed once they saw what he was doing the hacker talked to Kevin about the code he wrote and all the things he did as a hacker with everyone listening the black hat hacker told Kevin to look at the line of code he wrote and what it did. Kevin looked at the code read it and saw what happened and it hit him he learned a long term thing in such a way that for him it was a short term deal and Kevin said "but how". That's when it hit Kevin he knew how to hack. Kevin explained a part of him knew what it was doing but as for the rest of him it's like he's just mindlessly typing nonsense and just somehow it messed with the server for some reason but with this his mind has exploded to great knowledge of what he's doing now. The hacker said to Kevin "it's your intelligence Kevin deep in your mind you know what your doing and it makes sense now your one of us what people know as the hacker the cyberpunk" Kevin leaped up and shooted at the screen to the hacker he would never be like him but the hacker insisted that he already is the code he wrote has wrecks the victims computer or phone with malware and randomware imbeds the code and tracking evidence with hello world. Kevin in utter guilt can't think of how to hack anymore as the fight continued the siblings tried to convince Kevin that he must continue while buzz watched in silence. Eventually Kevin taps into his hacker part finds it and activates it as it explodes throughout his entire mind and Kevin defeats the hacker after getting lost in the code. Then they come home the wet cyber bandits as it is in this timeline are defeated as well. Witch hacker Kevin in lost in new York is where Kevin makes his own credit card and it has the crypto currency he has so in this time line he isn't left behind in the home alone one but he is in lost in new York where he sets up his hotel room the crypto currency he uses for his money in his Bitcoin miner is run by a program for his gain to get things like food water etc. the wet cyber bandits known as the sticky cyber bandits are also not that great as kevin easily defeats them as soon as they try to launch their revenge cyber attack on a white hat hacker that got them in prison and kevin puts them back there again.

In end he packs his stuff up and goes all the way Florida easy for him he just networks into his mom's phone and sees where their at and buys a ticket to go there by airplane he arrives at the hotel his mom is at and finds the room there in and knocks as the mom answers and sends him to the room buzz is at Kevin however reminds her that buzz could be a jerk and explains the problem he has with him so instead he sleeps with 2 of his older sisters has his own bed there witch he sleeps in.

over all hacker kevin my take is a complex and a guy who strangly lern something that takes years to lern as quick as a moment somehow.