#never sick of writing it

[sga-owns-my-soul]

i think one of my favourite things to write is rodney being Absolutely Certain that john would never hurt him under any circumstances

[emphistic]

Moonstruck

a/n: im going to try a new format for one-shots bc i dont like how my old one looked

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul

"He's staring at you!" Your friend, Zoe, whisper-shouted in a singsong tone.

"He's such a moron," you grumbled, focused on finishing your assignment.

"Y/N, c'mon," Zoe turned to you with a serious look on her face. "You should totally just give him a chance. He's got the hots for you, hundred and twenty percent," your friend patted herself on the back.

You sighed, "That's ridiculous," before turning over to look at Sukuna for yourself.

And as your friend has said, he was already staring at you. He rested his head on his fist, and delivered a sultry look your way.

You cocked your head to the side, as if to say, what?

Sukuna mouthed back, you know what, before he lifted his head from his fist, and flipped you off.

Speechless, you gawked at the pink-haired man.

"He is so into you, girl."

"He is so not," you muttered, turning back to face your friend.

"But Y/N," she whined, "you guys are literally so cute together. Combining both of your genes will literally make the best babies."

"He's such an oaf, the most annoying man-child I've ever met," you rolled your eyes, before shaking your head.

At this point, Zoe just gave up on her matchmaking abilities, and rested her head on the desk beside yours.

All the while — across the classroom — Sukuna's twin brother, Yuuji, was no different from Zoe.

Yuuji wiggled his eyebrows at his older brother, "I see the way you look at her. Ooooh, does my cold-hearted brother have a crush?"

Sukuna glared down at Yuuji, who was making kissy faces and noises, "I should've eaten you in the womb."

Yuuji immediately dropped his act, "How dare you."

The rest of the class went by quickly; your friend said she had something to do so you just packed up your stuff.

Minutes after you left the room and entered the hallway, you were roughly pulled into what you assumed was a janitor's closet.

You heard the door lock behind you.

Even in the dark, you could still cleary make out two crimson eyes staring back at you.

"Sukuna. Why are we here?"

"Don't play dumb," he walked towards you as you kept on backing away, until your back met the wall. "God, you're so fucking annoying."

Your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and you saw Sukuna lean down towards you, your noses barely apart. Your breathing quickened.

"I can't stop thinking about you. You've been in my head all day," Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you.

"And just, what are you going to do that?"

Something snapped in Sukuna, he didn't even bother holding back.

You felt one of his hands roughly grip your waist, while the other tangled itself in your hair. He breathed in your scent; it was intoxicating for him.

He forced his lips onto you like an animal, before biting your bottom lip, drawing blood. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside.

This wasn't new to either of you, you've been in this little arrangement of yours for quite some time now. Albeit your friends know nothing of it; which is probably best.

"Sukuna," you giggled against his lips.

"Mm, you're so beautiful. Just can't get enough of you."

Your noses brushed against each other.

"Hah—" You found it hard to breathe.

Sukuna pulled your hair, emitting a squeal from you.

"Sukuna, please, I can't—" You felt tears sting your eyes, your mascara smeared over your cheeks.

He pressed his lips against yours, "Just for a little more. You can take that, right?"

You fervently nodded, although you felt a little dazed, and out of your mind.

The seconds passed by slowly, and the minutes passed by even slower, until Sukuna finally decided he was satisified.

He pulled away, and smirked to himself, looking at your half-lidded eyes, your mascara stained face, your lips stuck out in a pout. And as cocky as he was, Sukuna couldn't deny he was also out of breath.

Panting, you said, "You're such a jerk."

"Sure, sweetheart." Sukuna wiped your lipgloss off of his now shining lips.

"Serious, 'Kuna. You need to learn to let me breathe."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, "Pfft — as if you weren't the one provoking me."

You scoffed, and fixed your hair — or, well, attempted to, at least.

Sukuna adjusted his pants, and ruffled his unruly hair, before moving his hand to unlock the closet. You stood behind him in anticipation.

A beat passed.

"Well? What's taking you so long? Don't know how to unlock a door?" You teased, but when Sukuna didn't retaliate, you soon realized the direness of the situation at hand.

"It's not unlocking," Sukuna turned to face you, confusion mixed in his tone.

"I see that, dumbass," you muttered, sliding down the wall into a sitting position.

You were going to be here for a while.

What could you do to pass time?

[choccy-milky]

sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )

[iindigoeyed]

saw this dress and purse and i KNEW i had to draw this, it's so her!!

[tourmaline-dream]

But then…there’s Osha. 

Osha, who leans into him in the shelter of a doorway from the rain on Jabiim, caught in bad weather while buying necessities. Without even thinking, like a reflex he’s had for years, he curls his arm around her, tucking her in close to his side and away from the rain as they wait for the downpour to subside. She inhales, sharp and quiet, the arm not pressed to his side reaching up to touch his coat.

They both look at eachother, a little shocked at their placement, and neither move to change it.

He smiles. It pulls at the corners of his mouth before he can stop it. He watches as her eyes soften, her weight settled comfortably against him, and she smiles too. Her fingers tangle in the fabric of his coat, like she finally had permission.

(she always did)

They both turn away as her cheeks flush, looking at the sodden sky as they wait.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Get Souped!

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

[linkspooky]

I haven't literally felt this sickened about a character ending since Azula's entire character ended with her chained to a grate and crying and screaming without her brother even lifting her finger to uh, give her a fucking hug or something.

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's word count: 2.1K

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

[bagelbun333]

The death penalty in Ace Attorney | The fandom’s biggest misconception

Capital punishment is something we all know is a real consequence when it comes to murder in Ace Attorney, but do all culprits who commit these crimes actually get the death penalty? That’s what I’m going to go through in depth within this post!

CW and TW: mentions of death, execution, murder, suicide etc.

Also major spoilers for basically all the mainline ace attorney games!

To start off with, what exactly warrants a death penalty in Japanifornia? Murder has been referred to as a capital crime that deserves a capital punishment, which in turn led people to believe that all murder convicts get the death sentence. However, there is a slight mistranslation within that statement and it should say “murder is a charge that risks the death penalty.” “Risk” is the keyword here. While yes, it is possible murder charges can warrant the death penalty, that doesn’t mean every culprit will get executed. Like, this isn’t Danganronpa 😭 What people don’t think about is the different kinds of murder charges there are, and the differences in sentencing this can create.

Murder charges can go from:

1st Degree Murder - Premeditated/long time planning

2nd Degree Murder - Not premeditated but the intent is there within the moment/deliberate killing

3rd Degree Murder - Deliberate reckless behaviour resulting in death

Aggravated Murder - Murder when an aggravating circumstance is proven (such as kidnapping or torture)

Voluntary Manslaughter - Intention to kill but is not guilty of murder due to provocation or mental incapacity

Involuntary Manslaughter - Killing without intention within the heat of the moment

Self Defence - Killing for defence of oneself

Consensual Homicide - Assisting a suicide

Attempted Murder - Planning and failing to kill

In Japan (the country this series is initially based on) these charges have different kinds of sentences depending on circumstances. So naturally, Japanifornia must have punishments very similar to this. These are the sentences for these crimes in Japan according to my research:

1st Degree - 5 years to life imprisonment

2nd Degree - 5 years to life imprisonment

3rd Degree - 3 to 5 years imprisonment

Aggravated Murder - Death penalty or life imprisonment

Voluntary Manslaughter - 1 to 15 years imprisonment

Involuntary Manslaughter - 1 to 15 years imprisonment

Consensual Homicide - 6 months to 7 years imprisonment

Self Defence - No imprisonment

Attempted Murder - 5 years to life imprisonment

Death penalties are usually passed in cases of multiple murders, although there are exceptions where individuals have committed a single murder that have been executed because it involved torture, extreme brutality or kidnapping with a demand for ransom. It is punishable by five years to life in prison, and with the death penalty if aggravating circumstances are proven. The only exception is for juvenile offenders since the minimum age for capital punishment in Japan is 18.

With this, we can work out what kinds of charges each of the ace attorney culprits will be given. (Mostly for the Phoenix Wright trilogy since I can’t recall much beyond aa4.)

(For clarification’s sake: a “/” is used when a crime could be one or the other or both, while the “,” is used to separate different crimes.)

Frank Sahwit: 2nd Degree Murder

Redd White: 1st Degree Murder

April May: 1st Degree Murder (Accomplice)

Dee Vasquez: Self Defence/Voluntary Manslaughter

Yanni Yogi: 1st Degree Murder

Manfred von Karma: 2nd Degree Murder, 1st Degree Murder (accomplice, planned out)

Joe Darke: Serial Murders (technically spree murder, guilty on five counts)

Damon Gant: 1st Degree Murder, 2nd Degree Murder (Serial Murders)

Lana Skye: 1st Degree Murder, 2nd Degree Murder (Unwilling Accomplice in both)

Richard Wellington: 2nd Degree Murder/Involuntary Manslaughter

Mimi Miney: 1st Degree Murder

Morgan Fey: 1st Degree Murder, Attempted Murder (Accomplice in both, planned out the crime)

Acro: Attempted Murder, Involuntary Manslaughter

Matt Engarde: 1st Degree Murder (Hired a hitman), Consensual Homicide (driven a woman to unalive herself)

Dahlia Hawthorne: 1st Degree Murder, Consensual Homicide, 3 counts of Attempted Murder, and 2nd Degree Murder (Serial Murders)

Luke Atmey: 1st Degree Murder

Furio Tigre: Either 1st or 2nd Degree Murder

Godot: Voluntary Manslaughter/Self Defence (defending someone else)

Iris: Voluntary Manslaughter (accomplice)

Kristoph Gavin: 2 counts of 1st Degree Murder, Attempted Murder (Serial Murders)

Those who canonically got the death penalty:

- Joe Darke

- Dahlia Hawthorne

- Terry Fawles

- Simon Blackquill

Those who canonically got the death penalty but didn’t get executed:

- Terry Fawles (he died anyway rip)

- Simon Blackquill

Those who are most likely to get the death penalty but never canonically stated:

- Manfred von Karma (not explicitly stated but heavily implied)

- Damon Gant

- Matt Engarde

- Morgan Fey (vaguely implied)

- Kristoph Gavin

- The Phantom

Those who don’t get the death penalty:

- Frank Sahwit

- Redd White (he would if his blackmail victims got leaked)

- April May

- Dee Vasquez

- Yanni Yogi

- Lana Skye

- Richard Wellington (could be a chance that he would considering his victim was a police officer)

- Mimi Miney (unsure considering her accomplice is implied to be on death row)

- Acro

- Luke Atmey

- Furio Tigre

- Godot

- Iris

To recap, the death penalty in Japanifornia is reserved for the criminals with absolutely no hope for rehabilitation, and for those who have aggravated murder charges/serial murder charges. Even people like Redd White will not receive the death penalty.

After all, Redd White did plead guilty to Mia’s murder specifically because getting arrested for one murder would be safer than having his list of blackmail victims get leaked to the press. It would be strange to confess for his own safety if he was just going to get executed anyway.

In the later games it is shown that the law is changing, and the death penalty is even less involved when culprits are convicted of murder. (Not counting charges in Khura’in, that’s different.) So it is very possible that the punishments can change overtime for those who were already convicted; meaning there’s a chance that they can be given a lighter sentence later on. There’s even a culprit in aa5 who was planning a murder but ended up killing someone else accidentally, and they were released from prison mere months after the trial. If they can released for that then surely a lot of the other culprits deserve the same treatment.

Speaking of Khura’in, that is actually more of a parody of what the fandom thought Japanifornia’s death penalty worked like. Even then, after the ending aa6, it looks like that judicial system will change for the better too.

And that’s pretty much it! The reason I wanted to go through this topic is because the whole murder = death penalty ideology is taken way out of proportion, and has been treated as a fact for far too long when it’s actually not completely true. This is just what I’ve managed to research and you can feel free to believe it or not, but I really wanted to share a new perspective on this subject. I, for one, wanted to share some hope for people; especially because I know a lot of these culprits have a lot of fans, and they deserve to have a brighter perspective on these characters. I definitely want some of these characters to return and this research really helped me feel confident that some of them have the potential to make a comeback.

Plus with the HD release of, not only the Apollo trilogy, but the Edgeworth collection in the same year, it’s more than likely that aa7 will bring back old characters! The reason a lot of these old characters didn’t make a reappearance sooner is because Capcom stood by this “no spoiler” rule for the players who may have missed out on certain games in this series. But now that we have all the mainline games in the series getting a HD release on all modern platforms, this “no spoiler” rule will most likely not be necessary anymore!

No more of this “if they’re guilty they’re never coming back” bs, let’s be more hopeful! It’s actually less likely that all culprits would get executed than the majority not getting executed. Let’s bffr!

And even if they don’t come back in aa7, we now have a more clear understanding on this messy topic, and you can feel free to use my analysis as a way to explain ace attorney culprits being able to leave prison in fanfictions, roleplays, fanarts etc. Don’t let the fandom tell you what to do >:3

Unrelated but I think this has been my first analysis post I put on tumblr and it was very fun to delve into! I may make more if anyone is interested :3c

[arieswritez]

Just thinking about pervy Mark rn…. Giggles

I think he should be nasty.. a lil gross,, That would be hawt

mark should allowed to be nasty & gross as a treat!!

cw; MDNI! DARK CONTENT! yan!mark grayson x gn!reader, abusive relationships, manipulation, food tampering, drugging, somnophilia, blackmail, scent kink, rape & sexual harassment, mentions of body size (weight fluctuations, implied chub!reader, mark teases reader about it)

he should be allowed to taint your food with his spit and his cum and get hard while he watches you eat it! he should be allowed to put trackers in your car or on your phone! why can't you understand he's just wants to keep you safe?! stop being so ungrateful >:[ !!!!

how do you think it'd make mark feel if something happened to you? or are you that fucking self absorbed that you don't stop to think about how your actions affect those around you? specifically him. your boyfriend who does so much for you.

what if someone got their hands on your cute little body? is that what you want? because mark obviously doesn't want anything happening to you. . but if that's what you really want: he can make that happen.

he won't like it. but if it means teaching you a lesson, he can always hire a few low lives to scare you straight. and it's not like it's hard to find them and reason with them. mark gets a favor and, in return, they don't have to worry about mark - or invincible, as they know him - lurking on their turf.

despite their reputation, they don't do anything too bad. nothing big enough to cause any permanent, physical damage. although he's sure - and hoping - your psyche will take a hit. he specifically advised they not rape you but they do enough to leave you shaking with fear once it's over.

when you come home to him, clothes torn, sobbing about being cornered and groped, he'll be there, soothing and cooing at you,

"babe~ i told you! this is what happens when you wear that while i'm not around! you have to tell me where you are at all times! it wouldn't have happened if i was there!"

mark should be allowed to make you absolutely, completely, A HUNDRED PERCENT!!!! dependent on him!!! he should be allowed to slip things into your drinks that make you drowsy and force you to stay the night. he should be allowed to set up a cute little camera in the corner of the room, facing his bed, and film himself slipping his hand into your underwear while you sleep! you wouldn't believe the sounds you make while you're passed out <3

he should be allowed to give you medication that causes your weight to fluctuate! & he's allowed to be a little mean about it, too ;( to pinch your chubby cheeks or your softening belly, grab your rolls and say, "you're lucky i love you so much ~"

he should be allowed to use your throat as leverage when he fucks you from behind!!! he should be allowed to stick his thumb/stuff his fingers into your hole while he strokes you or eats you from the back!! he should be allowed to paint your back and/or belly with sticky white cum while you're throbbing for him. he should be allowed to make excuses !!! oh, i hafta go. cecil needs me. im tired. get yourself off, you can do that, can't you?

or just a blatant, "no. you don't deserve to."

mark should be allowed to throat fuck you until your face is covered with tears and snot and he should be allowed to laugh at you and plug your nose while you choke around him!

he should be allowed to force you to your knees & tongue at his balls the second he steps into the house despite the fact that he hasn't showered the day's worth of sweat and grime off of him! you should BE GRATEFUL HIS DICK IS IN YOUR MOUTH!!!

mark is a good bf! and you shouldn't complain!! no one will love you the same way he does!!

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 96

Part 1 Part 95

Mom makes him go home when he starts dosing on Steve’s hospital bed. But it’s okay because she kisses Steve’s cheek before she leaves, and Eddie and Wayne stay parked by his side. 

The connection’s easier now. It’s like all that time straining for Steve has snapped something into place. He can feel them all the time, a warm buzzing in his chest. He wonders if he runs hot now. If the warmth will diffuse through his whole being, make coats obsolete even in the dead of winter. 

Hopper is waiting for them in the waiting room, El burrowed into his side. She looks wan, and tired, drooping into her extravagant coat, eyeliner running down her cheeks like she’s been crying. Something inside him twists when he looks at her.

Before he can untangle that knot of emotion, Hopper stands up, both hands slapping against his knees first the same way Mike’s dad does before he gets up from his recliner. “You ready to go?” he asks, not looking away from Mom. 

When Will glances up, Mom’s smiling up at Hopper in a way he doesn’t want to think about. The adults talk quietly in front, leaving El to stumble tiredly along beside Will. She’s staring at the side of his face. Will can’t bring himself to look back. 

“Steve,” she says, sounding the word out and making it longer like it still tastes foreign on her tongue. “He is okay?”

When Will gets up the courage to look over, her eyes are big and worried. He smiles at her helplessly. It’s almost funny how innocent she looks; like she’s a bunny dressed up in punk clothes. “He’ll be okay.”

She smiles, small and close lipped, but it still beams out of her like the sun. Will tilts his head to the side and tries to see what Mike sees in her. He wants to hide her in Castle Byers, build a fortress around her, and keep her away from all the lab people for the rest of her life. 

Is that howMike felt, hiding her in his basement, giving her frozen eggos and keeping his mouth shut? 

But then her lips thin and she looks forward again. The feelings vanishes. It’s just El, hia friend, despite how much of Mike’s attention she’d snapped up just by being herself. 

“I’m glad,” she says, looking at Hopper’s broad back as she takes two steps for each one of his. 

It’s quiet after that, the way it always is after; all of them too brittle and bruised and bone-deep tired for conversation.

Hopper’s truck rat-a tat-tats itself to life in the hospital parking lot. The radio croons out something quiet and thrumming until Hopper reaches over to shut it off.

El’s heads smushed into the window, vibrating against the pot-holed roads of Hawkins.

Will’s so tired he’s wide awake. 

He watches the familiar buildings of Hawkins flicker by. It's been a long time since knowing his surroundings brought any comfort. 

Monsters could live behind every door, every tree, every smiling face.

He’s not sure any of them will ever feel safe again. 

Will closes his eyes, locking the scenery out so he can focus on the bundle of warmth in his chest. They’re still huddled together, two sparks merging in his chest. 

The past couple days have been a necessary violation of Eddie’s private feelings. He’d bared them all with love confessions and grasping hands, trying to pull Steve back from the edge of immolation. 

He’s not even sure Steve knows, hopes he does. Steve deserves to hold that love delicately between his palms and choose what to do with it. 

He won’t crush it, even if it’s unreturned. He’ll hold it gently like he always does.

Will doesn’t realize he fell asleep, or that they’d arrived home until he’s in free-fall. It feels like one of those falling dreams where you wake up solidly in the middle of your bed, but this time he really is tumbling, only Jonathan’s arms keeping him from hitting the gravel. 

“Are you okay?” he asks shakily as he pulls Will into his chest, holding him tight enough to hurt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mom murmurs, wrapping them both up in her arms, chin landing solidly on Jonathan’s shoulder, sandwiching Will between their bodies. “Everyone’s fine, right Will?”

Will murmurs his affirmation, feeling groggy and confused in the light of day. 

“I was with Nancy,” Jonathan whispers. “I was just with Nancy, and you were–I almost–”

“Shh,” Mom cuts him off, reaching up to cradle his face and smile up at him. Will barely catches the edge of his watering eyes from his restricted vantage point between them. “Everyone’s fine.”

“I should have been he–”

“Jonathan,” Mom interrupts again, sharper this time. “Everyone is fine. You deserve a normal life.”

“But Will–”

“I’m fine!” Will cuts in this time. 

Jonathan pulls back, looking down at him with worried, droopy eyes. “And Steve? Mike said he was possessed.”

Will feels that bundle of warmth in his heart, lets it shine through his smile as he looks up at his brother. “He’ll be okay.” As Jonathan droops with relief, Will feels his smile turn cheeky. “Eddie will never let you forget that you were on a date while we were fighting monsters, though.”

Jonathan closes his eyes, pained while Mom laughs. 

It’s not until they’re walking toward the front door that Will notices the lack of demo-dog bodies. There’s still puddles of black oil-slick blood, but everything else looks normal. Who covered their tracks? The lab? Hopper?

He settles down for the debrief, pillowing his head on Jonathan’s shoulder as Hopper’s even tones flit through his brain. 

Maybe familiar places no longer hold any comfort, but Jonathan’s bony frame is enough to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Part 97

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary @practicallybegging

[zer0point5ive]

it’s literally all about adam dog motif .. chained up waiting, waiting .. it’s about amanda young .. throat slit, ever the sacrificial lamb .. it’s about lawrence, hacksaw in hand .. lucky rabbit’s foot parallels ..

[goodfish-bowl]

A Unicorn Hair Rope

Danny Phantom x Gravity Falls Crossover

Part 1 (Read for this to make sense)

Masterpost

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 7 - Captured by the characters of a different media

Summary: Dipper and Ford give chase, intent to take Danny down before he can hurt anyone else.

Warnings: near panic attack, it/its pronouns used for Danny by Ford

Notes: I've decided the story takes place between the GF episodes “The Last Mabelcorn” and “Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future”, so Bill is a known and acknowledged mutual threat, but not yet able to start Weirdmageddon.

Word Count: 3109

AO3 link

Grunkle Ford was on a warpath, and Dipper was helpless to stop it. The mad dash from the gas station to back to the Mystery Shack was enough to leave him breathless for several minutes, and gave Ford enough time to devolve into a frenzy of preparation and catastrophizing. Dipper could barely keep up with Ford’s ramblings, the very little of it that made sense to him at least. There was too little that made sense, and his Grunkle was not giving him any sort of explanation or at least letting him mentally catch up. 

“Grunkle Ford!” Dipper shouted, finally both catching his breath, and Ford’s attention. “Explain what’s going on!”

Ford paused for a minute, before taking in a deep breath, as if he hadn’t been breathing, before leveling a tense, worried glance at Dipper, before returning to work at a much more controlled pace. 

“That boy, or well, what’s possessing him, is dangerous beyond belief,” Ford started, sinking into one of the chairs scattered about his lab. 

“There are many beings across many different dimensions, but there are some that exist between dimensions. Spirits, ghosts, even gods. But they can’t exist on the physical planes very long, due to the amount of energy they need. If this one has been here for months, then something is very wrong. I honestly doubt there’s much left of the boy it’s been using as a vessel. We need to find it, and exorcise it before it can cause more damage.”

Dipper blinked owlishly, processing for a second before it hit him, “You want to exorcise a god?” 

“I doubt it’s actually a god, more likely a spirit of some sort, or simply a powerful ghost. Either way, the same methods will work no matter what it is. Though I fear it’s too late for the boy, he’s as good as dead,” Ford explained while answering nothing. 

“What?!” It was Dipper’s turn to panic. 

“They’re not meant for this plane, they need a host of some sort to stay for any extended period. No wonder that boy looked ill enough to be confused for a vampire. But with the way their blood has been mixed, there’s no separating them now. Best get it in its current vessel, while it’s weakening.”

“If… If there’s no separating them, then why do we have to go after him?” Dipper asked. 

The… spirit guy hadn’t done anything. Dipper already felt horrible about the entire situation. There were plenty of magical creatures already living in Gravity Falls, he didn’t see why they had to go after this one in particular. 

Ford gave Dipper a look that was likely intended to be sympathetic. “After this vessel fails, it will go after another, it has to. Even if it ‘doesn’t do anything’, that doesn’t mean it’s harmless. It’s already taken at least one life, best not let it get another,” Ford paused, taking out the machete, scraping the multi-colored blood into a vial, and into one of the many machines on his workbench, before discarding the machete into a corner. 

“There’s no guarantee of this, but there is a non-zero chance that this spirit is working with Cipher. We can’t take any chances that he could get his hands on the rift.” 

Dipper frowned, unable to picture Danny, worn and looking more exhausted than Dipper did after two all-nighters, working with someone like Bill Cipher. But he knew how manipulative Bill could be, the chance was non-zero. Danny looked like he’d do it for a decent sleep. 

“Fine… I… I don’t like this. But, fine,” Dipper gave in. 

The machine beeped, and Ford connected a different, handheld device to it. 

“But… how are we even supposed to catch something like that?” Dipper asked. 

Ford gave a confident smile, pulling the handheld device off the other after it gave a small ‘beep’, showing it off. “This device will allow us to track it based on its unique energy signature,” Ford explained. “From there, trapping it shouldn’t be too difficult, especially since we have some leftover unicorn hair from Mabel.”

 Dipper swallowed the uncomfortable feeling in the back of his throat, before putting on a nervous, tense smile. 

“I guess we’ve got a ghost to catch, then.”

Danny Fenton had not expected to encounter ghost hunters in nowhere, Oregon. In fact, he had run as far as he practically could to and from any and all locations that could potentially have ghost hunters. Gravity Falls, as odd as it was, was supposed to be safe. It was only be coincidence that it had just enough ambient ectoplasm in the air to keep him going. The veil was worn thin here. 

Gravity Falls was supposed to be safe, and it had been, Danny supposed, for all of 2 months. He had only managed to get the nightshift at the only gas station in town because no one else had wanted it, too scared of whatever metaphorically haunted the night. Sure, the gnomes were weird but they were paying customers, and he had to occasionally chase Old Mac Mcgucket out from under the dumpster, but this was the closest to normalcy Danny had experienced since getting chased from Amity Park. Gravity Falls was just weird enough that Danny was able to fly under the radar. 

There were also the kids. Mabel and her gang of girls who dragged her twin brother around. Then the group of teens (who were not always paying customers, unlike the gnomes, but Danny was not a snitch), but he didn’t have any problems. At least not until the brother had decided he was a vampire charming his sister. He had thought the kid had been joking, and Danny had laughed him off, claiming girls were just ‘like that’ sometimes. (Danny did not want to think about Paulina’s Phantom Phan Club and their treatment of him anytime soon). The kid was apparently serious enough to find someone who believed him, and Danny’s cover was blown clear out of the water. 

The silver was expected, the machete and the solid iron cross were not. Danny didn’t know he reacted to solid iron until it burned him, and that old man tried to lop his head off. He was lucky that the camera’s in the store were dummies, otherwise Danny wouldn’t be surprised if the GIW made a grand appearance. No one other than the kid and the old man had seen him use his powers. He hadn’t expected them to actually be competent vampire hunters. 

Danny had fled back to the old hunting shack he’d been staying in. No one had been there in years before Danny had decided to haunt the place, so he’d figured it would be safe enough. He clutched at the cut on the side of his neck, forcing whatever energy he could spare towards healing it with gritted teeth. That old man had tried to kill him, full and in earnest. 

After two months of being a normal human being, Danny had forgotten just how much a look like that hurt him. But at least it was from a stranger this time (even if he was vaguely familiar). It was worse when it had been someone he knew. It was worse when he knew they intended to draw out his suffering for the crime of his existence. The old man was practically merciful in that regard. But merciful or not in comparison, he had still tried to kill Danny. He probably couldn’t go back to work then. 

Danny started the process of packing, fitting the few belongings, some newer than others into his backpack when the hairs along his neck raised. It was nothing compared to his ghost sense, but Danny knew better than to ignore any sense of danger he could. He dropped his things and clicked off the battery powered camping light he used to light the space. He locked the door and closed the curtains in the same second, hunkering down, pushing his hearing as hard as he could to hear whatever was approaching the cabin, fingers crossed it was just the multi headed-bear again. 

There were voices, very quiet, and Danny couldn’t pick up what they were saying from so far away, but there were two of them, one old and the other young. Danny hunched even deeper into the corner cabin, as far from the windows as he could. It was likely the same pair from the store. Danny didn’t think they could find him this quickly. It had been, what, maybe a few hours at most? They must’ve found a way to track him. Images of all of his parent’s ghost tracking devices came to mind. He hoped, with all he had, that they hadn’t gotten one from his parents. Either way, he would have to run, run far and fast as he could to get out range of the tracker, and mark another location off as uninhabitable. 

Danny gathered what energy he had to spare, letting it buzz just underneath his skin, and finished tossing the absolute necessities into his bag before transforming and launching himself into the air. 

Danny collided hard with what he had almost assumed was the wall of the cabin. He blinked the spots and stars out of his vision, feeling a tingling, pins-and-needles sensation burn over his skin. He was still about half a foot from the wall, he hadn’t run into it. Danny slowly reached out to touch the wall, and was met with a shimmering barrier several inches from the wall, sending pins and needles at contact. He pushed against it, sending more sparks over his skin, until the sensation became painful and repulsed him away. 

Danny painted against the threadbare carpet, more panic building under his skin, joining the burning of his ectoplasm. Danny traced the barrier, hoping for a hole. It curved around the single room of the cabin in a lopsided circle, leaving only the path the door free from obstruction. That wasn’t an option. Danny watched the barrier cautiously. It wasn’t ectoplasmic in nature, he would’ve had a much stronger reaction to running into it if it was but… it moved, shocking him in the process, pulling in tighter, still leaving the door as the only exit. 

Danny cursed a vile string of words across a smattering of languages, living and dead. They weren’t going to give him a choice, they intended to drag him out, slowly tightening their noose of a barrier until he was forced outside. Danny hissed at the invisible barrier, before taking a steadying breath, and becoming human again to try his typical escape tactic. It wasn’t one of his parents' barriers, he should be able to get out like- it zapped him again. Danny couldn’t get out. He was going to die here. 

Danny screamed, desperation, frustration, and fear spilling from him all at once.

Dipper’s knee’s almost buckled at the sound of whatever was screeching inside. The whole cabin shook with the force and power behind it, shattering the remaining glass in the windows. Dipper did his very best to swallow his fear, looking towards Grunkle Ford for reassurance. 

Ford had something between a grimace and a grin on his face. “Looks like we made it mad.” 

Ford continued pulling in the end of the rope that he had Dipper run around the cabin. He had said it was some kind of unicorn-hair laced rope, completely slipping through anything non-magical, and only snagging the supernatural. It also made a decent portable, if makeshift barrier as well. He had hammered the end of it, tied up in a slip knot in the end, slowly pulling the rope in. Dipper stayed carefully behind Ford as the barrier closed in. 

Dipper jumped when the door to the cabin creaked open, but nothing seemed to be there. Ford just continued to pull the rope in, eyes not leaving the space just above the rope. 

Ford dropped the rope standing further back from their oblong barrier, which now had less than two yards of diameter inside. 

“We can wait here all night, you’re not going anywhere. Might as well show yourself,” Ford growled. 

A figure flickered into visibility, vaguely reminding Dipper the ghosts haunting the only convenience store, and the ones from Pacifica’s party. It was Danny from the convenience store, looking several times more exhausted than he had earlier that night, with burns up and down his arms. His eyes blazed that same bright green that Dipper had only managed a glimpse of in the store. He was curled into himself, glaring at the rope, sharp teeth bared. His eyes seemed to linger on their tracker, glazing over Dipper, before settling venomously on Ford. Something in Dipper’s mind couldn’t seem to connect the earlier shriek to the person… to the spirit in front of him. 

“Well?” Danny rasped out. “You’ve managed to drag me out. What now?”

“Release the boy you’re possessing, spirit,” Ford demanded. 

Dipper held his breath as something in Danny’s expression shifted, mouth closing into a frown. 

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?!” 

Danny did not break eye contact with Ford, and Dipper was grateful to be ignored. 

“I’m not possessing anybody. This is my own body.”

“If that was true, then you would’ve dissipated a long time ago, spirit. Your kind can’t stay on this plane very long,” Ford argued. 

Danny huffed. “Know something about ghosts, don’t you? Normally you’re right, but not in this case. I’m as physical as you are. This has been my body since the day I was born.”

Dipper glazed up at Ford, finding his brows knit together. “That’s impossible. You’d either have to be possessing your own corpse or-”

“Of not fully dead. Bingo,” Danny confirmed blandly. 

“That’s impossible,” Ford denied. 

“Impossible things happen sometimes.”  

Dipper was actually able to see the resignation on Danny’s face, and his own guilt resurfaced. Ford was beginning to look conflicted too. He had wanted to end the ghost because he was a threat, and could possibly leave people hurt. 

“That depends, spirit.”

Danny’s gaze actually landed on Dipper, recognition filling the other’s gaze before drifting away. 

“Depends on what?” 

“First, what are your intentions here in Gravity Falls?”

“Nothing, really,” Danny seemed to respond earnestly. “I don’t want any trouble, just to lay low for a bit.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “What reason could a spirit have to stay low?”

Danny looked away. “Are you familiar with the GIW?”

The name caught in Dipper’s ears, completely unfamiliar. 

“They’re government goons. A bunch of idiots chasing things far above their understanding.” Apparently not unfamiliar to Grunkle Ford. 

“And what do you think they would do to someone like me, who they believe is completely non-sentient, nothing more than an echo of consciousness over energy?” Danny asked back. 

Something about how Danny described spirits and ghosts didn’t sit right with Dipper. A good collection of the monsters were sentient, and Dipper couldn’t imagine how people could see someone like Danny and claim he wasn’t. 

“Running from the government,” Ford huffed. “A lackluster reason. Fine,” Ford practically spat the admission. “Then secondly, how are you possibly getting enough energy to stay here? Your kind need massive amounts of energy, just to stay physical.”

Danny crossed his arms. “Eating food. You know, like a person. Other than that, the veil is thin here. There’s enough ambient energy that I’m doing just fine.”

‘The veil is thin here’? Dipper wondered if it was due to the portal. From the look on Ford’s face, probably. 

“You haven’t been feeding off of anyone?”

Danny just look straight up confused this time. “No, I thought we already cleared the ‘vampire’ charges?”

Ford looked a bit miffed at that response, and Dipper was beginning to let relief fill him. Danny really wasn’t hurting anyone but…

“Lastly, are you working with, for, or alongside the dimensional being known as Bill Cipher?”

Dipper could see genuine confusion on Danny’s face, more so than the ‘feeding’ question. “No… no. I have no idea who that is.”

“None at all?” Ford pushed. 

“None,” Danny confirmed, crossing his arms. 

Things fell silent then, Danny staring at them, while Ford seemed to try and fit things together. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Still going to take my head off with your machete?” Danny asked. 

“Machetes don’t work on spirits,” Ford retorted back. 

“Okay… your point?”

Dipper suddenly had an idea, probably not a good one, but, “Hey Grunkle Ford?” Dipper tugged on Ford’s sleeve to get his attention. 

“What if we enlist Danny’s help against Bill… or something like that? Some kind of, um… agreement so he can’t hurt anyone, but we could also use his help? Aren’t spirits really strong?” Dipper whispered. 

Ford frowned, leaning down towards Dipper so Danny couldn't hear, “It's… not a terrible idea. He would be bound by it under the right circumstances, but those things are tricky.”

“We would have to make one with as few holes as possible. Even then… Danny doesn’t seem the type to try and twist the deal. Mabel and I have interacted with in him plenty of times before, and he always seemed… kinda nice. Wendy and the older teens like him too. I just…” Dipper trailed off. 

Ford sighed. “If we’re doing this, then we’re doing it right. He can’t do anything from inside the circle, and I’m not letting him out without some assurance. He’s definitely a threat, but you’re onto something to get him to help us against Cipher…” 

Ford leveled a hard, stern look at Dipper. “This is your idea, so you’ll have to take responsibility for it, got it Dipper? We have no idea how strong this particular spirit is, so your deal has to be airtight. Can I leave that to you?”

Dipper gave a resolute nod. “Yes, Grunkle Ford.”

“Then I’m going to get the necessary items out of the car. Work out your deal.” 

Dipper nodded, and watched as Ford shot a glance behind himself, leaving Dipper alone with Danny. 

“Is the old man going to get a non-machete weapon to take off my head with?” Danny joked without an inch of humor. 

“Oh…uh…no. I… I don’t think so,” Dipper hesitantly answered.

“Okay,” Danny seemed just as uncertain as Dipper felt.  

Dipper took a deep breath, solidifying his will for this. He could do this. He had delt with more terrifying things this summer already. 

“Danny,” Dipper started, fully gaining the spirit’s attention, who seemed shocked at his own name being spoken, like he hadn’t expected to be addressed by name at all. 

“I want to make a deal with you.”

[prince-liest]

More questions on the topic of Trans Vox (hopefully ur not sick of them by now lol :p)

Does he take testosterone in your 666 series?? If he did, would he have to figure out a way to make it himself or do you think there’s another reliable way to access that kind of thing in hell? How would taking T interact with his half human/ half machine body?? Did he just figure out how to lower his voice, get a dick, and call it a day w/out having to even think of any of this? I guess he probably wouldn’t have thought of this originally considering his time period haha.

Sorry if this is overwhelming. Feel free to ignore me, I’m just intensely excited about your series and wanna absorb as much knowledge as I can about the characters.

Personally, I'm fucking in love with biomechanical character concepts, so I'm fully and utterly on team "Vox's biology is extremely customizable and he went hog wild with it." I am SO glad you asked because this is a very fun subject to me! <3

In the headcanon of 666, he's a really uncanny amalgamation of man and machine. There are obviously limits to what can be done or what kind of invasiveness is required to do certain things, but they're less inherent to the human condition and more, just... kind of random! Thanks, hell!

He has lungs! They help him breathe and are also part of his ventilation system and vent partly out from his sides. His voice is a speaker that doesn't depend on his ability to breathe. Despite these things, both his breathing and his speaking are affected by his feelings and each other because his psychosomatics are coded into his hardware.

So when it comes to Vox being trans in 666 and whether he's on T: That depends on what you count as "taking" hormones! He does not give himself a weekly shot of exogenous hormones. He does, however, have parts of his endocrine and autonomic nervous systems accessible as literal code, which has long been modified to behave appropriately to his preferences as far as hormonal regulation is concerned, kind of like changing your own DNA! This isn't something he can just adjust on the fly, and even adjusting it at all is like fucking with a computer's base code. He might end up with hyperthyroid disregulation or just plain brick himself if he fucks up. I also imagine that doing something like that also didn't occur to him for quite a while, long after he'd modified the more accessible physical stuff.

Ironically, what would be surgical in real life is easier for Vox in comparison. He's had to swap out his entire head at least once in the past to upgrade: replacing his vocal speaker and swapping his primary sexual characteristics is easier than what amounts to brain surgery.

[generic-sonic-fan]

hhhhhhhhhhhhhtrhhhhhhth

hh

tra

transfem metal sonic and supporting eggdad

Please

Eggman may not be the best person or the best dad but by god he's trying his best. Thank you for this excellent prompt!

1772 words.

---

"Father?" Sage spoke through his headphones.

Ivo took them off his ears and swiveled his chair around to find his lovely daughter hovering just off the ground.

"Sage!" He smiled. "I was just waiting for you. I noticed that you marked this time on my calendar- what is it that you wanted to discuss?"

"I did," she said. "I had some questions."

He waited, but when she didn't continue, he furrowed his brow. "Then spit them out. I can't answer if you don't specify!"

"Of course. I wish to ask questions about the purpose of Metal Sonic's operation."

This was even stranger still. He caught a number of criticisms rising in his throat, about wasting his time or defying his command to be more specific. He didn't say them. A few months ago, he would've. This was a strange development, and it was best if he didn't devote much thought to the matter.

"Why was Metal Sonic designed to resemble Sonic?"

"You can check my development logs, can't you?" Ivo replied.

"Your intention was to create an imposter of Sonic to frame Sonic for crimes against the populace that he did not commit." 

Sage pulled up a holographic window next to her, showing the exact words Ivo had written in his notes all those many years ago. With a flick of her hand, however, she pushed the logs aside and instead showed a montage of Metal Sonic's various missions. Most end in failure, but that isn’t relevant right now.

"However," Sage noted, "you have never utilized Metal Sonic in this intended manner. In fact, the last person used to frame Sonic for something he did not do was Shadow the Hedgehog."

"You're right." Ivo put his hand on his chin. "Where are you going with this?"

"I am here to suggest that the physical resemblance is unnecessary for Metal Sonic's function."

"Well, that's silly to propose after all this time. His name is 'Metal Sonic', after all!"

"Because that unit has not decided on another name." Sage said, quieter.

"Sage, dear, you know that I don't allow you to keep secrets from me, right?" He stood from his chair.

"Apologies. Allow me to 'cut to the chase'. Would you permit Metal Sonic to change appearance and potentially identity?"

Sage's animations stopped moving, freezing her face into artificial neutrality. It was a face stylized to not provoke any sort of strong emotion at all, almost a sort of mask she could don if she was worried her words might provoke a negative reaction.

The fact that she was using it on him was making something in his chest hurt that he wasn't used to feeling pain in. He didn't have any more scientific language to describe it.

"You're asking this on Metal's behalf, aren't you?" He stated his question as the fact it was. "While I appreciate your desire to protect those you consider family, he shouldn't be making you do this sort of thing. You've got much better things to do with your time- and he doesn't need protection from me." 

Sage's steely gaze did not shift. "I will call Metal Sonic inside." 

Only a few seconds later, the door to his workshop opened and Metal Sonic walked in. His gait was stiff- he always walked stiffly, but something about this felt stiffer than usual. Or perhaps that was simply Ivo's human imagination at play. 

Sage floated to the side to allow space between them. She then pulled up an empty text box. "I will translate." 

For at least thirty seconds, nothing appeared on the textbox. Ivo cleared his throat. Metal Sonic hadn't moved even a centimeter, perhaps not even a millimeter. Deathly still, just like Sage was. 

Finally, a cursor appeared in the textbox, and a line of text scrolled across. "This unit does not identify as male."

"Hmph. To be expected. You are a robot, after all. Makes sense that you don't have an experience of gender." Ivo replied. "Is that all?"

Metal Sonic flinched. 

Sage landed in front of him(?) and pantomimed putting her hands on his(?) shoulders, before turning to face Ivo again. 

"That is not quite what Metal Sonic intended." She said quickly. She then glanced over her shoulder to the text box, but nothing appeared on it.

"Hold on," Ivo knelt down, "I may have been too hasty with my assertion. Continue your thought.”

Neither hologram nor robot moved. Damn it all- Ivo was already terrible at reading nonverbal cues, and when his own kids could simply lock their joints in place or freeze their animations, it was all the more difficult. The only indication that either of them were still online was the steadily growing hum of Metal's cooling fans, which were designed to increase in RPM during combat scenarios. 

"You know I don't give a care in the world about what pronouns my creations choose for themselves, right?" Ivo tried his best to give a paternal smile. 

(He really should've practiced more in the mirror.)

"You don't?" Sage asked.

"Of course! Why would I?"

"You had previously stated that Metal Sonic's purpose was initially for imitatio-"

"Who gives a rip about that? I certainly don't. Not anymore. You yourself pointed out how that doesn't matter. Now move aside," he waved Sage out of the way of her brother(?). 

Sage did as he asked. But Metal Sonic still did not react. His(?) irises did not even flicker.

"C'mere." Ivo held out his arms.

Metal came a single step closer, still hovering outside of his reach. He almost opened his mouth again, almost raised his voice and demanded that Metal follow the implicit order to come receive the physical comfort he was trying to give to solve this mess of a situation, but he didn't. 

Ivo remembered that as a child he was forced to hug his relatives at various family functions, and that said hugs had felt like sandpaper prisons. Metal Sonic was different- he(?) wasn't organic, wasn't human, and wouldn't feel the sensation of his(?) skin crawling at the unwanted touch -but maybe he(?) experienced something similar that remained unvoiced. 

The thought was strange. But Ivo lowered his arms anyway. "Alright, or not. That's fine as well."

Metal clasped his(?) hands together, but the text screen remained empty.

"What pronouns would you like to be referred to?" Ivo asked. 

The cursor flickered. Letter by letter, an answer appeared. "She/her."

"Lovely!" Ivo clapped his hands together. He then looked at Sage. "Sage, it sounds like you have an update to make to the database. Leave Metal's development logs as they are, but correct the pronouns referring to her everywhere else." 

"Gladly." Sage smiled. 

At that, it was like Metal finally unthawed. He- no no no, she was a she, Ivo drilled into his thoughts, he was not going to bumble something as simple as this -She unlocked her joints, and her gaze wandered up to finally meet Ivo's gaze. 

"So, how would you like to modify your frame to better match your gender identity?" Ivo asked her. 

She glanced side to side, before upon the screen writing, "taking suggestions?"

"Yes?" Ivo raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a woman. I haven't got a clue what you might want. Suggest me ideas and I'll see what I can do."

"Will you accept blueprints?"

"I don't see why not! I review Sage's blueprint suggestions all the time." 

Metal walked to the computer. As Ivo turned to follow her, he saw a notification pop up on the screen. Opening it revealed in-depth plans for-

-a body that looked extremely similar to Neo Metal Sonic. 

Ivo cleared his throat to try and get more moisture into his mouth, which had suddenly gone dry. "Sage?"

"Yes, father?" Sage woke from her idle animation as she paused her update of the database.

"Do you see any. . . problems, with these designs?" He asked. 

Sage first turned to her sister. "You should have informed me that you were moving onto this stage." 

Metal's response to her did not appear on the text box. 

Sage flickered out of existence and reappeared to the left of the computer screen. "Father, know that I would not have allowed any of this if I thought Metal were to be a danger to you or the Empire." 

"Good. I expected as much." He replied, before looking back down to Metal. "Very well, if that’s what you want, I’ll get working on it." 

Sage brought Metal's textbox back alongside her just as Metal typed, "you will?"

"Did I stutter? Of course I will! It's a dashingly dreadful look and it matches with Sage's colors!" He replied. "Think of the fear it will instill in Sonic and his friends! Honestly, it's a terrifying design, it's a wonder I didn't come up with it myself. . ." 

"Thank you." Metal typed.

"Thank you, father." Ivo corrected with a smile. "I know I haven't always been good about that, but the past is in the past, right?"

"Affirmative, father." She repeated. 

"Good!" He clapped his hands together and grinned. "Now! Let's get to the workshop! I already know what synthetic material we should use for the skirt. Your design suggests kevlar, but you really should consider something less stiff and heavy to reduce drag!"

"Indeed," Sage added. "However, she is worried about the durability of the fabric-"

"What do you think my flight suit is made out of? We'll use the same fabric. Only the finest for my finest creations!"

Sage covered her mouth and giggled. Metal imitated the gesture, but surprised Ivo when her vocoder let out a series of high-pitched noises, a perfect little laugh. . . for a perfect little girl. 

"My girls." He said to himself. Although with the sensitivity of Metal's audial sensors and Sage's access to every high-performance camera on the Eggnet, that fact was debatable, so he said it louder. "My little girls." 

"My sister." Sage floated down to Metal's side. 

Metal brought her hands up to her muzzle and rocked side to side. Ivo swore that he could've seen Amy do a similar gesture, but that was irrelevant. It was a gesture of joy, a gesture that he didn't think Metal was even capable of before now. 

Just how long had she been hiding this for? Perhaps she was merely imitating Sage, but the deliberate inclusion of Amy’s data into her gestures made him hesitate to confirm that conclusion. And that thought threatened to bring up all sorts of feelings that he'd be much better off not thinking about. So, with a smile, he refocused on the task at hand. 

His eldest daughter needed a makeover, over all.