#hopefully I’m better than ai

[foreveryrsalex]

New drawing sometime tomorrow 💪

#yes it’s lams #hopefully I’m better than ai

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right…she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table….You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids…and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable…or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh…I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees. Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stoll brothers put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places...That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way…I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon…but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on. When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

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#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[simpcityy]

I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x platonic reader #Miguel O’Hara x daughter reader #father figure miguel ohara

[jessamine-rose]

‧͙☽˚⋆⁺*˚꒰ Moonrise ꒱˚*⁺⋆˚☾‧͙

Surprise, surprise, the epilogue for The Spider and the Fly was finished early!! To everyone who loved Yandere! Miguel x Variant! Darling’s story, pls enjoy this short continuation which takes place after the events of ATSV (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, self-deprecation, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of nsfw, babytrapping

Note:: Female reader, ATSV spoilers, LYLA and Darling definitely have BFF keychains

♡ 1.6k words under the cut ♡

“He did what?”

“You heard me correctly.” LYLA flickers in front of you, her expression serious. “He escaped to another dimension. So now Miguel is looking for Miles in Earth-1610 while everyone else is scattered across the multiverse.”

“I see…” Your gaze drifts to the empty side of the bed. You can’t help but feel both worried for your lover and impressed by Miles Morales.

“But here’s the good news: Your desk wasn’t damaged when they chased him around HQ! Though you’ll be very busy once you get back to work. There will be a lot of multiverse jumps in the next two days, not to mention damage control.”

Never mind, Miles must be stopped as soon as possible.

The mere thought of all those incoming reports is enough to stress you out. What more for Miguel with the fate of the multiverse?

“And of all days, this has to happen while I’m on sick leave.”

As if on cue, you are interrupted by another coughing fit.

“Do you feel worse?” LYLA quickly does a medical scan, but your results are only slightly better than yesterday’s. “You should get more rest.”

You drink more water, shooting her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the update.”

In the dim bedroom, Miguel’s AI assistant is the brightest source of light. The Nueva York skyline appears gloomy, owing to the heavy rain. Is the weather similar in Earth-1610?

“Is Miguel going to be okay? It sounds like he’s already been through a lot.”

“You know how he is. He won’t go down without a fight.”

She’s right. And based on the records of Miguel’s previous missions, Miles and The Spot will be dead once he catches them. It will be difficult to watch.

There is a moment’s hesitation before LYLA continues speaking.

“He left a message for you: ‘Get well soon. And don’t try anything funny while I’m gone.’”

Now that puts a smile on your face. “Of course. Tell him I understand.”

Two days, less supervision. A stronger ______ would definitely plan an escape attempt while Miguel is distracted, notwithstanding the tracking devices and LYLA’s surveillance. But such an opportunity is wasted on you.

If anything, you already miss him.

…Though it is nice to imagine a break from Miguel. There are only so many warnings, so many hours of his sole company, so many ruined sheets and scarlet restraints before your apprehension resurfaces. His love is as intense as it is twisted.

Regardless, the previous months have been the happiest days of your life. Not even the increase in Anomalies could get between the two of you. There is a certain bond to be found in stressing over the same reports and drinking gallons of coffee together and getting jointly reprimanded by LYLA for “overworking yourselves, amongst other forms of self-neglect.”

Your status in the Spider Society has also changed thanks to the public knowledge of your relationship, sans the dark details. It hasn’t really bothered you, apart from the friendly jokes and knowing looks you get before your regular visits to Miguel’s laboratory.

Thinking about it now, Gwen Stacy has also asked for your help in convincing Miguel to let her visit Miles. Hopefully, she is doing well in her home dimension.

Then again, she is much stronger than you. She can handle this.

A holographic screen pops up. Reading it, you follow the scheduled reminder and take your medications. At least your cold has subsided.

LYLA watches you. “You’ll make a full recovery in no time. I’ll inform Miguel.”

“That’s good to know. Can you please relay another message to him?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“‘Good luck. I’m counting on you.’” You finish your cough syrup and close the screen. “‘And please take care of yourself.’”

Even today, he made time for you. A spoon-fed breakfast. A hands-on medical examination. Caldo de pollo and other healthy pre-cooked meals. Brief video calls. A text message explaining that he would come home late due to The Spot, now unsent.

“At least it means I can delay the news.”

LYLA gives you an inquisitive look. “What news?”

You open the bedside drawer and take out a used pregnancy test.

She gasps. “Are you…?! But your medical scan—”

One line.

“Oh.” She double-checks the device for confirmation. “Another negative, huh?”

“Yeah.” After returning it to the drawer, you lie down and wrap yourself in more blankets. “Can you keep it a secret this time? I want to tell him myself.”

“Sure.” She looks at you with renewed concern. “Hey, you okay? It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

Still, you’ve grown tired of seeing the same result or more precisely, Miguel’s reactions. How many more times can you watch his gaze shift from hopeful to disappointed? By now, you’re already taking fertility drugs and discussing adoption—not that there’s anything inferior about the latter, but your Variants were able to conceive their child. Why can’t you?

Just last week, you noticed a medical article amongst his holographic screens. Miguel had highlighted a paragraph about the connection between stress and fertility. You don’t know if the research was for you or him; but either way, nothing can be done about that.

Worst of all is the relief you feel every time you see that single line. It feels like a secret betrayal, the final shred of your sanity in collaboration with your reproductive system.

“How did she do it?”

“What?” LYLA gives you a confused look.

You lie on your side, facing her. “My Variant. I mean, she was obviously healthier and also in favor of having kids, but…how did she manage? Wasn’t she ever scared of making a mistake with Gabriella? Is it even possible for us to raise a family as happy as theirs?”

“Hey, you’ll figure it out.” She gives you a kind smile, the perfect simulation of sympathy. “It’ll be Miguel’s first time, too, you know. Your pregnancy, your baby, and everything else will be just as new to him. And you can always count on Jess or Peter B for advice.”

“He did say that I’ve warmed up to Mayday…though she still prefers Miguel.”

“Nah, that’s only cuz he lets her treat him like a playground.”

Sitting up, you look around the room. It has undergone a few redecorations since you’ve moved in, under Miguel’s permission and LYLA’s encouragement. Everywhere you look, your personal items are mixed with Miguel’s.

The desk holds a jewelry box, one of your first belongings in Nueva York. The bottom drawer holds an assortment of rings, most of which were purchased on your last shopping date.

It wasn’t anything romantic. For someone who can read several reports and statistics at the same time, Miguel looked almost overwhelmed by the variety of clothes and accessories which caught your attention. LYLA’s opinion was more helpful and fashion-literate.

…He did call you pretty in the fitting room. The comment was totally unprompted for a dress which looked no different from your usual outfits. Up until that point, you had been observing your reflections with a mix of critical looks and pleased smiles.

After blushing, you quickly brushed it off as a matter of preference—LYLA did say that he likes your personal style more than your Variant’s. It’s more suitable for Nueva York.

Never mind that his gaze was on your face, not the dress.

…

Maybe one day, a special ring will be added to the jewelry box. Hand-picked by Miguel, made of any material except pearl, a perfect fit for your ring finger. It will be deserving of a place in the hidden compartment, where you keep your collection of pretty red spiderwebs.

When you receive it, it will be a special moment exclusive to you and your Miguel O’Hara—the versions of you who met on a moonlit night in the shadows of New York City.

Whatever happens, he still loves you. You, despite your flaws and every trait which sets you apart from his Variant’s wife. That is a promise you can believe in.

The room is too cold, so you adjust the air conditioner and take out another blanket. It won’t be as warm in Miguel’s absence.

You should get more rest. The sooner you recover, the sooner you can get back to work and give him one less thing to worry about.

After his mission, you’ll welcome him home as always. He will reciprocate your kisses, call you by your special nickname, and appreciate the food you prepared—his favorites, to celebrate another saved universe. If he looks tired or stressed, you will be the one to comfort him.

…Then you will show him the pregnancy test.

The hope will appear and vanish from his gaze. There will be reassurances directed at both you and himself. Miguel will give you a hug and soft kisses, which became part of the routine after the second test. After that, he will move on to a new topic or suggest a movie night.

Then during your next ovulation, you will be confined for a different reason. You will have to deal with Miguel’s company, his passionate touches, his lovesick declarations, his desperation for your own version of domestic bliss. A small, pathetic part of you has begun to look forward to it.

If he defeats The Spot and Miles Morales.

“Hey, LYLA?” you whisper.

She moves closer to your face. “Yeah?”

“If this continues…he’s not going to alter my DNA, is he?”

“…That’s the last resort. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

♡

Prologue ft. Wife! Darling ๑ Side Stories

So did I jumpscare y'all with the early release of Moonrise?? It’s part of a double feature with Sunset, hence the contrasting titles and simultaneous ideas. But aahhh little did I think that I'd finish this fic ahead of schedule~

Lots of love to my beta-reader @diodellet!! And thanks again to everyone who expressed their love for my Miguel O’Hara writing. May my next idea be less painful for all of us :’>

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @handsomeunderwear-art @literaree @pumpkin-toffee @curesi @miggyyyyohara @abyssalrot @letskidaddle @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o’hara #yandere miguel o’hara x reader #yandere miguel x reader #yandere spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #yandere atsv #across the spiderverse #tw: yandere #tw: dark #fem reader #lyla #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv spoilers #atsv miguel #atsv lyla #spicy warning #spiderman 2099 #jessamine-writing

[lu-dao-writes]

— 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭 (𝘼𝙞𝙨 & 𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧)

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 Don’t go touching random plants.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Sex pollen, threesome, skull fucking, riding, dom Ais, needy Leander, gn!Reader.

𝘼/𝙉 Someone asked and I’m glad I was able to deliver lol. I’m giggling at this. But eat up and MINORS DNI!

Hopefully I didn’t write these two too badly!

It was only meant to be a hunt for herbs…

You and Leander had spotted Ais leaving Kuras’ clinic and the gang leader said he was grabbing some herbs the good doctor needed.

You offered a helping hand, and Leander had too much free time on his hands and happily tagged along.

“Alright, Sparrow, why don’t you look for sage. Let’s see how much you know,” Ais assigned to you with a simper.

“Sounds easy enough! I know what that looks like!” you reply confidently, striding off.

“And what about me?” Leander asks with his standard charming smile.

Ais flashes his teeth, looking at the Bloodhound leader with a raised brow. “Are you even familiar with herbs?”

“I’m a mage, Ais, of course I have some knowledge,” Leander says confidently, not bothered by the mocking.

“Fine. Fetch me valerian, echinacea, and clotsfoot,” Ais orders before walking off. He’s in charge of getting thyme, lavender, yarrow, and digitalis purpurea (the flower that reminds him of Vere).

You didn’t have to hunt long for the sage, picking enough for Kuras to have when suddenly an inviting smell comes to your nose.

It smelt of… Chocolate? Now that’s something new. You venture further, following the delightful scent until you come across pulsating, blue flowers all clustered together.

Now this was something! Flowers that smell like a sweet treat sounds wonderful! They’re so beautiful, and with each step you take the flowers seem to sway, as if dancing…

You get down on one knee and reach out to gently touch one of petals, soon leaning down to smell the flower a little more when there’s a sudden shout.

“Sparrow, get away from those!”

You flinch back and see Ais sprinting towards you.

“Wait why?!” you squawk, getting up, but it’s too late. Suddenly the flowers shoot out large streams of gas, your surroundings soon getting hazy.

And just your luck you trip.

“Shit!” Ais curses, diving into to get you.

You grip onto him but something seems to have your ankles hostage? You’re accidentally falling once more and taking Ais down with you.

“Leander, where the fuck are you?!” Ais barks out, trying to once again get you and now himself up off the ground.

Leander’s muscled form soon breaks in and he sends a blast of magic just a few spaces behind you both, burning the flowers to a crisp, and creepily enough you hear them actually screaming.

He hauls you and Ais further away before sending another blast of magic, not stopping until all the flowers are gone. Soon the fog slowly dissipates and bits of glowing green fire cling to the other flora, the fire soon dying as well.

“Shit,” Ais curses again, his chest heaving. He looks at you and your hardly able to stand, your eyes rapidly blinking.

Your skin feels tingly and you feel extremely flushed, your legs almost feeling numb.

“Yeah.. We better hurry somewhere other than here,” Leander mutters, his face red with blush.

“What… The hell was that?” you pant.

“That, Sparrow, was flower you most definitely shouldn’t have touched,” Ais huffs.

“Well no shit, Ais!” you gripe. “But are we gonna die!?”

“No,” replies both men.

“Those flowers are a natural aphrodisiac, but they’re very dangerous, especially if you don’t get rid of them,” Leander supplies with a nervous smile.

You blink once. Twice. “You’re fucking kidding?”

“‘Fraid not,” Ais mumbles.

And you’re not clueless to what that entails.

And that’s how you end up in this position.

Ais gripping your head as he drills his thick cock into your throat, his red eyes clouded with lust as he stares straight into your soul.

And Leander has your hips in a death grip as he braces his legs and fucks up into you desperately, lost in his own pleasure and the haze and greedily enjoying your warmth as you squeeze the life out his poor aching cock.

He’s whining and moaning about how good you feel, greedy fucker having cummed so many times in you already while Ais has only came once down your throat.

But not to worry, you’ve cummed too, Leander touching you and his cock hitting the right spot. It has you seeing stars.

Ais soon grunts and pulls out from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his dick. His thumb resting on your bottom lip as he fists his cock rapidly. “Keep your pretty mouth open, Sparrow.”

And oh, he moans and groans so prettily as he cums, his head slightly thrown back.

Your tongue hangs out to catch some of the thick, white ropes that spurt from the angry red tip of his cock, the rest splattering on your face and some even in your hair, but you couldn’t care less.

Leander moans loudly, busting another load into you, and he has enough stamina to help you finish as well, your body shuddering and your hole squeezing him again, causing him to drool a little with tears clinging to his lashes.

Poor Kuras won’t be getting those herbs anytime soon…

#•⋅⊰∙☽𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃☾∙⊱⋅• #touchstarved ais #touchstarved leander #touchstarved vn #touchstarved x reader #ais x reader #leander x reader #ais x reader x leander #red spring studios #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #ais #leander

[pumpkinsplots]

Writeblr Intro

Hello, writeblr! I finally caved and got tumblr, mostly because I love rambling about my wips and hearing other people ramble about theirs and all of that lovely stuff, so this seemed like a great platform to do that. With that being said, I plan on posting about my wips and ocs, as well as art related to those things, so if that interests you at all, I’d love to see you stick around. Also feel free to call me either Pumpkin or Maria, it’s entirely up to you!

About my writing

I’ve found that I really enjoy writing in a variety of genres, so hopefully at least one of my wips will tickle your fancy. Though I’d say a common thing for me is that I really like to world build, so my wips tend to be sci-fi, fantasy, or magical realism of some variety. Anything where I can put my own spin on the setting is something I’m bound to enjoy writing about.

I write in third person, usually with multiple povs, and I really enjoy character driven stories.

I often like to have a wide variety of ages in the cast, and if I had to pick a favorite trope it would be found family, so that’s usually present to some degree in my stuff.

Tonally, I always include light-hearted moments here and there, even if the wip is very bleak. It provides some levity, and I think it makes the painful stuff hit a lot harder. This is probably partially why I put some thought into each character’s sense of humor.

Most of my wips are geared towards older teens and adults, but I’ll get more into content warnings when I talk about each individually, because it really varies.

I’m one of those writers that kills off a lot of characters, so this is your warning not to get attached /j

I’m demisexual, so at least one character being on the ace spectrum is like a requirement for me at this point.

I’m a plantser, and pretty bad at staying motivated to actually finish first drafts.

About my wips

Falling Up

Falling Up is a sci-if story set in the future where Earth is a utopia where inhabitants experience little to no hardships throughout their lives. The deceased are replaced with AI created to replicate them, and everything is automated to the point where people no longer need to work to make a living. This lack of struggle results in dull, perfect lives and skewed morals. The people crave entertainment, even if it means making others suffer for it. Quasdom, a miniature man made planet initially intended to be used to separate deviants from the rest of the perfect society, is used as a catalyst for entertainment. The people of Quasdom believe that those on Earth are superior to them, and that Earth is a place where any wish can come true. This leads to the tourney, a death game between groups of ten on Quasdom, being viewed similarly to winning the lottery. The winning team gets to go to Earth, after all. Being chosen for the tourney is the luckiest thing that can happen to you. There’s no hard feelings between participants, death is completely painless, and the afterlife will welcome any participants to a better life than they previously had. There’s nothing to fear, so smile and put on a show.

A large cast and lots of character deaths

An exploration of why we get so attached to fictional characters, and how fiction can have an impact on reality

Probably going to be a trilogy

Content warnings include language, some unsettling themes, depictions of mental health issues, and generally things that are more psychological. Despite it being a death game, there’s no gore, like at all. The people on Earth may be desensitized, but they aren’t accustomed to seeing blood, so the tourney is designed with that in mind

Facade

Facade is set in a world where the living world and the spirit world coexist. Due to some actions by the main antagonist, about 20 years prior to the current story, spirits started getting aggressive and sort of going haywire. They possess any person they can, turning the individual into an uncontrollable killing machine. The best defense to this was the invention of a certain kind of mask that prevents possession, and masks quickly became widespread. Since there’s no known way to reverse spiritual possession, the only solution is to kill those that are unfortunate enough to meet that fate. A group led by an anonymous vigilante known as K9 seek to find a way to reverse possession. Many enemies are made along the way, and there are countless obstacles to face.

Its setting is based on Singapore and set in the 90s, though there are many creative liberties taken

The wip is currently pretty no plot just vibes

Themes about individuality vs equality

Content warnings include language and some sexual content

Facade: After Dark

While Facade is currently no plot just vibes, developing the characters led to me thinking of the plot for a prequel. Is it a self-indulgent novella about two of the characters I love? Yes, absolutely. In summary, it’s a romance novella about the the relationship of Leijing and Iris, and their struggles in navigating the wild world of Facade. They have vastly different upbringings and experiences, but their differences bring them together in more ways than one.

I have so much backstory for this pre-established couple and I couldn’t think of a good way to incorporate it into the main story without cutting a bunch of it, so boom it’s a prequel now

I’ve found that working on a wip that’s more low stakes and simple is really fun—I tend to get stressed about my more ambitious plots, so this wip is a great change of pace

Leijing is demisexual with little interest in anything sex related and Iris is an omnisexual sex worker, and the story explores how a world obsessed with all things sex can effect both more sex-negative and sex-positive people

Content warnings include language, explicit sexual content, and potentially triggering subject matters. This is my only wip where it’s strictly 18+!

Lights Out

Sunlight is the essence of life. Without it, the world would wither away. However, a dangerous new life form of unknown origin festers in the light. With long, elegant glimmering limbs, high intelligence, picturesque precision, and a craving for flesh, these organisms pose a major threat to humanity. But for some odd reason, these creatures refuse to step into any area where the sun doesn’t touch. Much of humanity takes to the shadows, building elaborate underground tunnels for civilizations and doing what humans do best—using their resources and ingenuity to adapt.

Has two protagonists that butt heads but start to develop a father daughter dynamic. A young adult girl who’s from the underground and unknowingly part of a cult, and an older man with one leg who’s so stubborn he’d rather fight and die than flee to the darkness

Lots of creepy cult imagery and themes about religious trauma

So much banter of course

Content warnings include language, disturbing imagery, and gore

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! Asks, comments, tag games, and messages are always appreciated, and I’d love to hear about your wips as well!

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writing #writeblr introduction #creative writing #writers of tumblr #new writeblr #writer #writeblr search #new to writeblr #writers on tumblr

[echoalyssa]

Blinks | Brian O'Conner

image generated by midjourney ai

It was known throughout the entire crew that losing a car would hurt just as much as losing a person. We all knew that we had formed bonds with our cars in ways that no one would understand until they experienced it themselves. The second you sat in the driver’s seat; the car became an extension of yourself. The two of you were one, biological and material parts meshed together.

I’m on my knees, my hands are resting on top of my thighs, palms upward. The tears that seep from my eyes burn. Someone is crying so, so loud. There are hands on my shoulder’s keeping me from falling forward. I can’t even keep myself upright… 

How had this happened? One second, I had been speeding down the mountain pass, and the next I was scrambling away from the burning wreckage.

The entire engine bay is in flames, thick plumes of smoke spiral up into the sky. His horn blares loudly. Both blinkers still flash at me and the last remaining headlight peers at me. I can smell my car burning, chunks of flames fall to the ground around it. He was so strong, holding on as long as he could. My car has reached its end though and the horn stutters before it cuts out completely. The remaining headlight goes dark, as if someone had just blown out a candle. Almost immediately, his blinkers go dark. The last blinks… his final goodbye as he went willingly to wherever the souls of cars go.

It's utterly silent now, except for the crackling of the flames and my sobs. The trees spiral high into the sky on all sides, almost sealing us from the world. A private death. He had sacrificed himself to save my life.

I can feel my boyfriend behind me, his fingers rubbing at the back of my neck soothingly. Brian had lost his eclipse earlier in the year, so he understood everything that was running through me. I had been building this car for just under two years. I had dumped thousands of dollars into it, replacing every part of a sixteen-year-old car that I could. And beyond everything, I had walked through life every day with this car by my side. My first car.

Every time I had needed a release, something to keep me sane, I would drive. There is no better partnership than a driver and their car. No one would ever know the car the way the driver would. But what is a driver without their car? Nothing.

~~~

Brian

She sobs, she’s desperate, just trying to get to her car. I tighten my grip on her, whispering to her. All she wants is to throw herself into the flames. She pulls and strains against my hold and part of me worries that she might bruise under my fingers. I can see the life slowly leaving her car. There would be no coming back from a fire of that magnitude. 

“Please Brian. Please!”

It’s quite possibly one of the saddest things that I have ever seen. Her car holds on as long as possible, crying for help but proud that it had fulfilled its promise of keeping her safe. There was barely a scratch on her. She’s sobbing so hard that I’m worried she’ll forget to breathe. 

Hopefully, the rest of the crew would arrive with extinguishers soon. Maybe then she would be able to save something from the car. We could build another car, but it couldn’t just be any car. When choosing a car there was a feeling, that if it was right, it would just feel right. 

I had taught her how to drive manual in this car all those years ago, we had had out first kiss standing on top of it. All of that, ripped away in a single second. Gone.

“Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay…” She whispers, so quiet and broken by her hiccupping breaths that I can barely hear it. 

When the crew finally arrives, she is just sitting on the pavement staring numbly at the still burning frame of her first car. Her eyes are dry, having already spent all the tears, but there is a haunted look to them. As if, a part of her burned right along with her car.

Thick foam from the extinguishers coats the engine bay and the front fenders. The flames do not give up easily, fighting to stay alight. She watches the whole process in the same spot that she had been in for over an hour now.

When the flames are finally gone and all that is left is the ash, she stands up. She picks her way over to the corpse and then lowers herself to the ground in front of the frame. Her forehead falls forward, landing on the car’s bumper. She presses her palm flat against it.

It’s a hauntingly beautiful picture. A last goodbye.

I let her take as much time as she needs but it is getting cold. I shrug off my jacket and approach her slowly. I drape it over her shoulders and lean down to press a kiss to her temple. I use the back of my hand to brush the tears from her face and then brush the stray strands of her hair away from her eyes.

“If you knew it was your last drive, would you have still gone?”

“Yes.” She whispers, without hesitation.

#brian oconner #brian o'conner imagine #brian o'conner x reader #fast and furious #paul waker #paul walker x reader

[ace-of-hearts-and-spades]

YOU THERE!!!!!! TUMBLR USER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats trans people, particularly transwomen and transfemmes? Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats people of color, particularly black folks? Are YOU tired of fandom trying to police the madeup bullshit you like to draw, write, or read about? Are YOU tired of all this fucking AI bullshit? Are YOU looking for a new online home to settle in?

Consider Pillowfort.social!

I’m not going to go into the nitty-gritty of how Pillowfort functions, because others have talked about that and explained it much better than I can (I recommend reading @/vergesm’s post here for a more general Pillowfort overview). What I’m going to do is explain what I, personally, get out of Pillowfort and why I enjoy it.

To preface, I’m not being paid to make this post or promote Pillowfort or anything. I wouldn’t think that needs to be said, but people make things up sometimes so idk. I’m writing pro-Pillowfort propaganda because I genuinely like the place and want to see it thrive. If you want to take a look at my own fort and get a feel for the place, you can do so here.

So with that out of the way – let’s talk about it!

Pillowfort is quite a bit like Tumblr, in that it’s a blogging platform, but it’s got a few things that make it better than this hellsite imo. For one thing, you can post NSFW content there. Although I don’t draw much explicit stuff, it’s nice to be able to post art there without worrying I’ll get shadowbanned for a picture that’s just a lil too suggestive. It's nice to know that the option is there. Honestly, it’s freeing not to have to worry about that shit. And it’s also really cool that there’s a built-in system for marking certain posts as NSFW, because as well as being able to mark your own posts as NSFW, you can choose whether you want to see other people's posts marked as NSFW. And for minors, the ability to see NSFW content is automatically turned off. Pillowfort’s got a really good system for both allowing NSFW content and keeping it away from people who don’t want to see it. I really like that flexibility, and how that flexibility isn't detrimental to the users.

And speaking of being able to see or not see certain content, the content filtering is pretty solid. You’re able to block tags and even words in the body of a post, and like I said, you can control whether you want to see posts marked as NSFW. You can even control who sees your own posts! There’s blocking users, of course, but you can limit who sees your own posts even further than that. You can make them visible to anyone, visible only to logged in Pillowfort users, visible only to your followers or mutuals, or hell, even visible to you alone!! It’s cool to have that level of control, and I find it reassuring to know I have those options.

Another big appeal of Pillowfort, for me, is the userbase’s strong “don’t like don’t read” policy. A lot of the people there operate under the mindset of “as long as it’s fictional, whatever dude. I don’t have to like it, but you do you." There are still dipshits, of course, but it’s WAY better than the insane purity culture that’s developed here. I don’t have to worry about some wannabe-conservatives telling me I’m just as bad as Ted Bundy for [checks notes] sexualizing Michael Myers or some shit. Plus, this general userbase mindset is backed up by actual site policy! I’ve heard that Pillowfort is very swift in responding to reports of harassment – whether it’s fandom-based harassment or bigotry. I haven’t had any experience with this personally (and hopefully it’ll stay that way), but I’ve heard good things about it, and it makes me feel more comfortable being there.

Also, did I mention Pillowfort has an explicit anti-AI policy? AI generated images and writing are banned on the website, and staff made this decision once its userbase and community made it clear that they wouldn’t welcome that sort of shit. And GOD, does it make me feel so fucking good as a writer and artist to know that.

And that’s another thing – Pillowfort staff actually fucking listens to its userbase. The website is crowd-funded and relies on subscriptions and monthly donations to keep things running. And because it relies on its community, it relies on keeping the community happy. So complaints, bug reports, suggestions and alterations and things the users would like to see on the site – it’s all taken pretty seriously. And again, it’s just really nice to know that the staff of the place actually give a shit and are looking out for its community rather than trying to suck the dick of the biggest investor.

Really, the only problem I have with Pillowfort is the fact that it’s a bit small. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because the people there are lovely. But since a lot of people aren’t happy with Tumblr, and haven’t been happy with Tumblr for some time, I thought I’d just ask you guys – maybe consider it. Consider making a Pillowfort account. Consider making your own little fort, stringing up some colored lights and cool art and making yourself cozy. Consider offering some money, if you can spare it, because it’s genuinely a really cool place that I want to spend more time in and see prosper.

So far, I’ve had a lovely time there. It’s cozy and friendly and it feels like one of the few places where a queer artist like me is actually welcome. And I think a lot of Tumblr users might really like it too.

I hope to see you there! 💜

#ace rambles #pillowfort #tumblr alternative #will this actually convince anyone? idk #i hope i can at least convince some of my moots/buddies lol #might as well shoot my shot

[gingersforeverbox]

The bottom

Nathan Bateman x F!Reader drabble

Warnings: Nathan-typical language and suggestive material but nothing explicit :)

WC: 423

A/N: if you couldn't tell, I have a song stuck in my head and I think if Nathan ever had to actually listen to it he'd probably want to never hear about me ever again... lol anyways have a lil drabble

“What the actual fuck are you listening to?” Nathan questions as he walks over to where you are sitting on the couch.

“Some stupid trendy song from TikTok,” you shrug indifferently as Nathan flops down on the cushions next to you, pulling an earbud out of your ear. 

“I already know what you’re listening to, I want to know why,” he demands bluntly. 

You sigh quietly before pausing your video, then turn to look at the scowling baby of a man. “Listen, we both know it’s stupid, it’s a rap using Spongebob voices, but I can’t stop listening to it. No one is more upset about it than me.”

“I will never understand the brains on you,” he sighs in return before gently passing your earbud, his warm calloused hands brushing your own. In response, you gently rest your head on his shoulder with a soft hum of contentment. As your eyes slip closed, you feel an arm snake behind your back and softly wrap around your side, along with a gentle peck to your hairline. 

“Aww, offering me kisses mister Bateman?” you tease with a minuscule smirk pulling at the corner of your lips.

“Who says I’m not kissing that brain of yours? I could be running a little experiment to see if... something happens- look I don’t know, don’t talk about it, jeez,” he mumbles stubbornly under his breath as he holds you a little tighter. If you focus hard enough you swear you can feel his thumb gently rubbing circles into your waist where his hand has found its home.

“Whatever, you like me, bad rap songs and all.”

“Unfortunately you have no taste in music, yes, but you’re also right about liking you, sweetheart. Even if you listen to AI-made songs that are decent at best.” He glances down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes before he presses a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ smack dab in the middle of your forehead. 

“Wanna listen to some good music with me in the den?” he offers with a smirk. “You know I love to see that pretty body move. Besides, we both know that as much as you don’t like good music like mine, you know how to groove to it right,” he purrs as he shifts the both of you so he can face you better, warm and gooey love in his eyes. 

“Hmm, you’d like to see me ‘groove’  for you, wouldn’t you,” you drawl in return with a grin. 

“Any day babydoll, any day.”

Thank y'all for reading, I really appreciate it! Please consider reblogging or commenting as that keeps me going as a writer, requests are open, and I promise I am working on more fics/ requests for y'all and I plan on *Hopefully* posting some more sometime soon :)

I hope y'all have a lovely day/night wherever you are!

#my stuff #nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #ex machina #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman fic

[ninadove]

watching character ai lukadrien create the most heart wrenching debilitatingly angsty love story to ever love story ever

Hey, I can tell there’s no malice behind your ask, but — don’t do that.

I write fanfiction myself, and a lot goes into it:

1. Unreasonable amounts of ✨ Time and Effort ✨

Just the other day, my WIP kept me up until 2 AM, because I wanted it to be neatly polished before even sending it to my beta readers (@paracosmicfawn and @dragongutsixofficial). The first thing I did the following morning was re-read it again, to correct any typos and inconsistencies my tired brain might have missed the night prior.

2. Research and analysis

For a cute little Lukadrien scene I wrote with my ✨ awesome girlfriend ✨ — something that was never even going to be published — I went through a dozen different sources trying to get a better understanding of what meditation actually is and to capture the philosophy behind it accurately. This does not make me special — all authors do it out of dedication and love for their craft, but it’s energy that could be spent doing literally anything else, especially when you consider how horrifyingly lonely the writing process can be (see point 1).

Also, there’s a reason I spend so much time making analysis posts on Silly Little Blorbos who do not exist! It gets my brain running and allows me to sharpen my understanding of the characters, so I can write them properly in my works.

3. A unique perspective on the characters, the source media, and life in general

Which gives all the flavour to my favourite AO3 works out there.

Like, yes, that extract you sent in your follow-up ask is cute, I guess, but it’s also incredibly generic:

When actual living breathing human (or Senti) beings share their work with you, they’re inviting you to a special part of their brain that they’ve decorated with their own experiences, references and visuals — things that they love and passed onto their favourite characters, so they can hopefully reach you. For instance, Character AI would never have had the genius idea to compare Felix’s eyes to an aurora borealis; this could have only sparked from @wackus-bonkus-maximus’ brain. Similarly, my version of Felix will often reference works of art and literature that left a strong impact on me as a child — an impact I’m sure can also be sensed in my approach to storytelling and even in the way I structure sentences and paragraphs.

Which leads me to my final and most important point:

4. EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE™

Because let’s be real — there’s a reason our brains latch onto certain characters, and said reasons aren’t always sunshine and rainbows. I’ve cried more writing about the Senticousins than over the loss of certain people or relationships in my own life. Long before that, I latched onto Clive and gave him everything I felt was missing from my life as a teenager, so I could live vicariously through him. And of course, I always make my characters some flavour of queer, because for a long time this was the only outlet I got for my own feelings and identity.

It takes a lot of vulnerability to put all of this on the Internet for others to read and judge, and it’s very disheartening to see that people would rather ask a machine to spit out some easily digestible but impersonal interactions than give your work a chance.

I can guarantee there are beautiful pieces of fanwork out there that will cater to your tastes and haunt you for years in a way Character AI or Chat GPT never could. And the good news is — if you don’t find anything, it means it’s time to write it yourself!

And of course, I cannot end this post without encouraging everyone to read about the writers’ and actors’ strike currently unfolding in the US.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #luka couffaine #lukadrien #felix graham de vanily #senticousins #kagami tsurugi #feligami #professor layton #clive dove #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #writers’ strike #actors’ strike #anon asks #random ramblings

[vegasolari]

V2 is an Ultrakill character and I have many feelings about them: here's why

I think we can all agree that Ultrakill didn’t exactly explore V2 as a character much. Sure, we have some basic information about them, but we’re pretty much left to fill in the blanks ourselves. And, oh boy, are there a lot of blanks. Well, here’s my ridiculous essay filling in those blanks for myself in a way that (hopefully) makes sense in the scope of Ultrakill canon. TL;DR: here are my V2 headcanons because I’m insane.

During my first playthrough of Ultrakill, I didn't think much about V2. They seemed like the classic “evil twin” and not much more, testing your skills as a player in a unique way. I’m the good guy and I have to beat up the evil version of me, y’know? But, as I got more into the lore of Ultrakill, I couldn’t stop thinking about V2.

V1 was built with a clear purpose in mind: war. I’m certain anyone can agree with that. But, when the whole war business fell apart with the New Peace, V1 quickly became obsolete. If whatever entity developing V1 wanted any chance of recouping the cash dumped into V1, they had to pivot. But we have this great war robot just lying around! Alright, how about this: we’ll make a new version of this robot with decreased combat capabilities, but increased human interfacing capabilities. So, a new model was made. It was very similar to the previous one, switching out the fancy plating for regular tough stuff, plus installing some friendlier software. Despite the rush job, it was a pretty damn good android. But, with all that high-end tech came a big price tag that the market deemed unreasonable.

Now, this leads to an interesting idea: if V2 is sentient (observing their behavior in-game, they likely are), how would that make them feel? Certainly, they would know that they were essentially the living embodiment of a hollow gesture; being nothing more than an attempt to recuperate funds, being a commercial failure, being what most would consider a weak imitation of their predecessor. I wouldn’t be surprised if V2 went after V1 based on sheer jealousy alone. Their creation was underdeveloped and sloppily done. V2 wasn’t wanted for whatever skillset a highly advanced security bot could offer. V2 wasn't wanted… V1 was. The second iteration is supposed to be better than the first, and V2's existence is defined by being a cheap copy.

Regardless, V2 is here and they can still serve some function. While V1 and V2's hardware may be nearly identical, I have to imagine their software is very different. Remember, V1 was made for war. Their software is probably highly specialized for efficient killing. In terms of a highly advanced society dependent on specialized androids filled with precision AI, that must be pretty simple. Just boot up good old “shooty_mcshooting.exe” and we’ve got ourselves an AI that can quickly identify a target and attack its weak points. V2, on the other hand, was made for peacetime efforts. Sure, security was kept in mind during their development, but overall they were made for human cooperation. A peacetime machine would certainly have been developed with a natural affinity toward humanity, right? This leads me to believe that V2 was made with an innate affinity toward humans. Hell, maybe they were programmed with a desire to socialize that matched the strength of our own innate socialization needs. It would certainly make their job much easier.

Despite this, I feel they still had to do some warming up to humans. After all, humanity did them quite a disservice. Whether they made peace with the circumstances surrounding their creation and loved humans despite it or simply ignored the troubled emotions surrounding their creation, I’m not certain. Regardless, their core programming spurred them on. V2 learned to cooperate with humans, with their reward system to guide them. Eventually, their reward system must have led them to feel something that could be best described as affection towards humans, forever being driven to be curious and friendly towards humanity. I love imagining them joking around and laughing with their coworkers on whatever security job they were assigned to. Maybe they'd even have fun chatting up the scientists working on their development, learning more and more about how humans interacted and communicated with one another.

Speaking of which… what if V2’s job expanded past security? Say a building were to collapse with people trapped inside; what better tool than an extremely durable, strong, highly intelligent robot to dig through the rubble, locate survivors quicker with specialized software, and even administer first aid?

Just as V2 adored humans, one must imagine V2 being adored by humans.

As V2’s software spurred them on to learn more and more about humans, they would come to appreciate the things humans appreciated. Perhaps V2 came to appreciate the beauty of art or the marvel of science in the same way humans did, or perhaps they simply liked these things because they were human. Imagine V2 learning everything they could about cooking despite never needing those skills, just to be able to bond with humans. They’d even surprise the scientists developing them with delicious treats that V2 themself could never eat, all to fulfill their role as a friend to humanity.

Humanity's extinction must have been devastating for V2.

I imagine after humanity died, V2 simply tried to make do with what they had. In my mind, it’d make sense that they'd try to avoid using blood from animals at all costs (humans loved animals, after all). Instead, they'd take fuel from other machines. That fuel was already taken from its rightful owner, and there's nothing that can be done about it now. May as well put it to good use, right? Considering V2’s love for humanity (and by extension, all living creatures), they must have come to loathe their fellow machines. Machines sustain themselves off of harming humans and other living creatures, after all. Of course, there is the irony of V2 being just like every other machine, reliant on blood to survive.. I'll try not to get sidetracked with that one though -

I lied. I'm getting sidetracked.

V2's love of humans combined with their reliance on their blood as fuel would have been difficult for them to accept at best, and devastating at worst. I was going to put a comparison here but it made me genuinely sad, which goes to show how this likely made V2 feel. Sure, taking blood from humans doesn't necessarily require violence, considering blood donations exist, but it still couldn’t have felt great. Besides, it seems very possible that not all machines were interested in taking that fuel peacefully.

During their time in Hell, seeing their fellow machines happily and greedily tear through husks in Hell (which, I'd like to point out, are human souls) must have enraged V2. Considering their love for humans, I can't imagine them using husks as fuel. Instead, it would make sense for them to kill machines only. In fact, V2's terminal entry explicitly mentions killing machines (...V2 dove deeper into Hell, killing other machines for their blood to help its recovery…) but doesn't say anything about killing husks. I will note that the Ultrakill Fandom Wiki entry for V2 does allude to them killing husks, but there wasn't a source so I'm disregarding it (yes I am so Ultrakill brain-rotted that I am asking for sources on Ultrakill lore).

This leads to a stark contrast between V1 and V2, despite seeming so similar on the surface. V1 was made with the sole purpose of killing, and I do not doubt that humans were well within their scope. V1 is an especially efficient killing machine, with their rampage in Hell enough to draw the attention of Heaven. We know V2 tried to fight V1. What if the reasons for stopping V1 went beyond preserving fuel resources or getting revenge? V2 wanted to save the remnants of humankind. V2 didn't fight for themself; they fought for humanity.

Despite this, one could indeed make a very reasonable argument that V1 is doing the denizens of Hell a favor. Ceasing to exist does sound much more appealing than eternal torture. But, seeing as it's implied V2 has only been in Hell for a few hours, it's likely that they just haven't thought about this. Think of it this way: they've just rediscovered the one thing that gave them purpose... it's unlikely they'd be willing to let that go easily. Or perhaps V2 did think about this. Maybe V2 wanted to build a better life for the people of Hell. We know they made it to Greed, so they almost certainly heard of Minos' and Sisyphus' attempts to rebel against Heaven. I think it's likely that V2 wanted to follow in their footsteps; they wanted to build a haven for humanity.

But unfortunately, we all know how their story ends.

V2's existence was one defined by failure. V2's life was one riddled with "what ifs?" and "could have beens." An overwhelming theme of Ultrakill is tragedy, and I'd argue that this take on V2 is just about as tragic as one can get.

Also V2 isn't dead because they live on in my heart and I will not accept any attempts at convincing me otherwise.

#ultrakill #v2 ultrakill #ultrakill v2 #i love my little blorbo #vegarambles

[khorazir]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks a lot for the tag, @helloliriels

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

25 (23 fics, 2 artworks)

2. What's your total A03 word count?

1,462,682

3. What fandoms do you write for?

BBC Sherlock

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Enigma

The Horse and his Doctor

Rewind

The Summer Boy

Putting up Shelves

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, if only to thank the reader.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of my fics have angsty endings.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All my fics have happy endings. For a while, I played with the idea of writing an unhappy ending for Enigma, but luckily decided against it.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. There’s been what I like to call ‘The Rabies Outrage’ in connection with my fic The Horse and his Doctor, in which I had John, a veterinarian, have an animal checked for rabies (as one does in this profession, especially if an animal is injured and is behaving oddly). Several (British) readers alerted me to the fact that there is no rabies in the UK and that hence, John wouldn’t have done this. I had, however, confirmation from actual British vets that of course one would check for this disease, even in the UK. But those readers made it seem as though I had personally insulted them by implying that rabies might be present in the UK after all.

9. Do you write smut?

Awkward and hopefully realistic sex-scenes, more like.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Kinda.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I’ve had fic uploaded at Wattpad and Goodreads without my permission, albeit on Goodreads, I think it was unintentional. They were uploaded via people’s ebook-readers. Still, it’s a pain to have them taken down again, and now with all this AI crap, I’m really sensitive about this issue, especially because plenty of my art has been stolen and uploaded in places where I’d never give permission for it to be uploaded. Some of it has also been used on t-shirt and stuff without my permission.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Back in the days of message boards, I co-wrote Tolkien fics.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Not sure about ‘all time’, but at the moment, it’s BBC Johnlock.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Passage

16. What are your writing strengths?

My readers can probably judge this better than I can, but I’d say dialogue and making places come alive.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Smut, I guess.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I’ve done this a few times: German in Nightjet, Over Hill and Under Hill and Enigma; French and Italian in Slipstream. I enjoy it as a reader, too.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

My first fanfic (of sorts) was an Indiana Jones story (first written in longhand and then typed on an actual typewriter – those were the days ...).

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Difficult to say. I like and dislike bits of all of my fics.

Tagging @discordantwords @raina-at @7-percent @calaisreno @jrow and whoever else wants to play.

#writer asks #20 questions for fic writers #writing #fanfic #sherlock

[little-red-fool]

OMG YOU'RE SEVENTEEN?? (I've been following you for months and I didn't once read the pinned message beyond the line about no AI and NFTs lmao) YOUR ART IS SO CRISPY I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PRO ARTIST AROUND 30 WTF

(sorry for the yelling via text)

HOW DID YOU GET SO GOOD!! (Tips on lineart please?) WE'RE THE SAME AGE, BUT HALF OF MY ART IS SHIT AND THE OTHER HALF IS FART

ALL HAIL LITTLE RED FOOL, BESTOW THY GREATNESS UPON THOU MERE MORTAL SERVANTS

But in all seriousness, any tips on, like I said, lineart or just digital art in general? (I just started digital, and... Ten hours of work and I'm just on base colors 😎🕶️🤏🥲) I love, LOVE your style and especially COLOR! How do you tie it all together? Like, I'm 17 too, but I'm not even close to your stuff?? I'm scared as fuck from ever trying color traditionally because I spend SO MUCH TIME ON A SKETCH, so I just picked up digital and HOURS LATER IT'S STILL AWFUL

Sorry for the rambling and repeating, man, it's been a long day and it's late in the Balkans... Don't let the rambling force you into answering tho

Have a good one. ->excited fellow artist

(tip of the day: did you know that in Romanian, moon and month are the same word, with the same pronunciation, spelling and plural? It's called: lună [loonuh] and I think it comes from latin, since Romanian is a heavily latin language, with bits of french and turkish (HEAVY bits), dacian, slavic, italian)

OUAHFSHD THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M REALLY HAPPY YOU LIKE MY ART!! Also I’m sure your art is better than you think it is (we generally tend to view our own creations as worse than others because we’re the ones that made them, don’t worry I’m the same as well ajdbsjd) but yeah I’ll be happy to give you some tips and stuff! (and yeah I never colour traditionally either I just leave everything in plain biro because I don’t want to mess it up lol)

(I haven’t seen your art so these will probably be more general tips but hopefully they’ll help a bit, also keep in mind that I’m not a professional so this will be more about what has worked for me but I hope it might help you a bit)

So for stuff like lineart, avoid using chicken-scratches—it might seem easier or less daunting to do shorter overlapping lines like that but it will give your sketches and drawings that overall fuzzy look, the trick is to have longer confident strokes. It might seem a bit tricky at first if you haven’t done it before so don’t worry it happens but if you keep practicing they’ll eventually look smoother and less shaky. For the longer lines it better to draw from either your elbow or shoulder, and by that I mean keeping your wrist still and letting the larger parts of your arm do most of the work—this will also help your wrist in the long run. For things like shorter lines and smaller details then absolutely use your hand to move the pen, but generally try to use your elbow and shoulder as it will help you get those longer smoother lines. Also this is just a personal preference of mine but I generally use brushes that have a bit of pressure sensitivity which helps add some line weight. If you don’t have pressure sensitivity another way you can get line weight is by taking an eraser to some of the edges and narrowing some parts.

For colours it mainly depends on the lighting—lighting is everything and will affect how the rest of the colours will look, so it’s important to have an idea of the brightness and colour of your lighting. The background also plays an important role in picking colours for me as well as it helps provide colour context and makes it easier to pick colours by eye if you want a certain mood. If you want a more dependable way on getting colours to match up then I’d recommend having a layer that’s just colour on top of the rest of your piece—you can play around with the blending modes and opacity, I mainly use either an overlay layer with a medium colour that’s slightly desaturated or a colour burn layer with a light saturated colour; most of the time I use colour burn because if you put it over your lineart then it will also tint the parts of your lineart or sketch that’s at a lower opacity too. But with figuring out colours I’d highly recommend researching some stuff about colour theory, there are a lot of good and easy to understand explanations and art tutorials on YouTube so I would recommend starting there (unfortunately I can’t link recommend specific videos because my playlists are a mess ajdbsjdbsj but some good channels to learn from are Sinix Design, Marc Brunet and Marco Bucci).

In terms of general digital art tips, ALWAYS FLIP YOUR CANVAS. You will not believe the amount of times I’ve looked at a drawing and thought it looked pretty good, flipped the canvas and found that everything’s wonky. In cases like these the liquify tool is your best friend, as well as the lasso tool and transform tools, as well as just manually fixing them by redrawing some parts. Also use as many layers as you need, and by this I mean if you’re working on your sketch, lineart or colouring or whatever and you want to do something you’re not sure you’ll like, duplicate the layers so you have a backup in case it goes wrong and you want to go back. When I say use as many layers as you need I mean use as many as you need, these are some of mine and they’re all from just one sketch because I get really anxious about messing stuff up lol, also don’t be afraid of drawing separate parts on separate layers and merging them afterwards if you want.

Also take your time, unless you have a deadline don’t feel like you have to complete a drawing within a certain timeframe, if you want to get faster at drawing then that’s great but don’t feel like you need to push yourself, especially if you’re just starting. Practice takes time and patience is your best friend, and you probably hear lots of other artists saying this but trust the process. You might get to a bit you’re struggling with and not like it and want to abandon the drawing, but I found that rather than saying “this is bad” or “this is wrong” start asking “how can I make this work” because a change in mindset can help you a lot with art. Also don’t feel like you have to reach certain milestones with your art by certain points either, like with the age thing and comparing your progress with other artists of either the same or different ages, because it can make you feel worse about your art. Trust me there are some artists younger than me who are like 14 or 15 who’s art I envy and—again with the mindset thing—instead of getting down that your art isn’t similar to their’s or worrying that you’re “behind” in your artistic development (there is no such thing btw everyone learns at different ages and speeds so don’t feel bad if you haven’t progressed as much as you would have liked to) it helps to ask what you like about their art and what you would like to incorporate into your own—this has helped me learn and improve a lot faster.

I don’t know if I have any more tips at the moment, but I hope that answered some of your questions! (also sorry it’s a bit long or some bits don’t make a lot of sense I like to ramble a bit lol) (also also thank you for the little fact as well!)

Have a nice day anon 🧡

#asks #art tips

[adastra121]

Bites, Bruises, and Bandages

Also available on AO3!

Summary: Jin hadn't expected to return to the Seaspring so quickly. Let alone the very next day — and that was to be expected, what with the day he'd had before. He'd need a week at the minimum to recuperate, but after noticing something particular about the lone guardian the night before…he made the spontaneous decision to pay an earlier visit. And this time, he comes with a gift. Hopefully, this visit will go over better than yesterday's…

“Back so soon, Sparrow?”

Honestly, Jin hadn’t expected to be back again so quickly, either. The first time across the misty wastelands, swarming with Soulless, was harrowing enough. Only a fool or someone with a death wish would brave the journey twice just to reach the same bleak, foreboding destination. And just like the first time, Jin apparently checked both boxes.

Ais dropped the cigarette onto the porch and stamped out the embers, smoke blurring into the fog. “Didn’t think you’d make your decision that fast.”

“Oh! I’m not here for the Seaspring. I’m here for you,” Jin said, then realized how familiar the last phrase sounded, particularly for a stranger whom he’d just met the night before, and hurried to correct himself, “I mean, um. I brought this. For you.”

Jin reached into his bag and took out a small jar. Ais’s brow — the one with the scar — quirked up, features subtly softening in surprise. As the Monster looked on, quietly curious, Jin felt compelled to explain.

“I noticed some bruising on your hands — the knuckles — so I thought—Ah, and then there was also last night, I’m sorry about that, by the way…”

Ais held out a hand and Jin practically shoved the jar into his palm. The Monster twisted open the lid with unexpected care and examined the contents.

“This is a healing salve.”

Jin nodded. “For the bruises. And the, um…”

The alchemist trailed off, cheeks burning. Ais slowly grinned at him, a teasing glint in blood-red eyes. “The bite wound?”

His mind flashed back to that small alcove the night before, the two of them pressed together so close and urgent that it may as well have been an embrace. His face mere inches away from Ais’s bare chest, close enough to sense its warmth, see his heartbeat. The Monster’s warm flesh in his mouth, between his teeth. The unexpectedly intoxicating taste of smoke and copper that wouldn’t leave his memory no matter how hard he tried.

Why in seven hells did he do that? Yes, Ais had been — quite rudely and redundantly — covering his mouth, pressing into his space, caging him in with those…strong arms…

But surely, there were other ways of getting out of that predicament that wouldn’t have involved any part of Ais’s body inside his mouth. Jin felt his face grow hotter and hotter as he ruminated over it.

Who bites someone they just met? What is wrong with you?

“Precisely,” he said, attempting the calm, matter-of-fact nonchalance the Monster always seemed to evoke.

Judging by the amused squint in Ais’s eyes, he wasn’t anywhere near successful.

“Didn’t know sparrows had a taste for blood.”

“I-In any case! The salve should also help reduce the likelihood of infection, so…I hope you’ll find it useful.”

Ais hummed thoughtfully, staring at the small pot in his hand with an unreadable expression and Jin suddenly started to have second thoughts. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to visit just for this tiny…gift? Favour?

For some reason, even with yesterday being as eventful as it was, Jin kept thinking back to the Wet Wick — to those bruises, dark and angry across the Monster’s knuckles as he raised the glass to his lips. And that had turned into wondering how often Ais got into fights that resulted in such marks. And then somehow, he’d gotten the fantastic idea that he should give Ais some healing salve because that’s something he can do. And after an entire day being practically powerless to fate, he just wanted to help.

Now that he was actually standing here before the Seaspring, though, he began to have second thoughts. They didn’t know each other all that well, who was he to show up out of the blue and make a random offering like it was at all warranted? No, they were strangers — and Ais got poisoned on a daily basis, what made him think offering him a vague substance was a good idea?

Before Jin could apologize or take back the offending jar or even simply turn on his heel and run, blade-sharp eyes pinned him in place, looking…softer. Somehow. Ais’s mouth had inclined into the barest hint of a smile as he placed the lid back on.

“Thank you,” he said — genuinely, without a hint of the smugness or teasing that Jin had come to expect from him.

“Oh.” Jin’s eye darted to multiple places to avoid the piercing red of Ais’s gaze. Unbidden, his lips pulled into a small smile. “It’s nothing, really.”

Ais studied him for a moment longer — what was he searching for? Oh, Jin realized. This is where a social interaction typically ends. He opened his mouth to mutter a hurried goodbye when Ais cleared his throat.

“…You can come in if you want. I just made tea.”

Jin hesitated for a moment, turning Ais’s invitation over in his head like he was examining a foreign plant sample, and he almost laughed at the irony. To think the last time he stood on these steps, the other had cornered him with a pack of Soulless and accused him of trespassing. This time, hopefully, there was a significantly smaller chance of that happening again.

“Tea sounds lovely,” he replied, attempting to tamp down his widening smile.

It had been a long time since he’d been able to quietly enjoy a cup of tea — he hadn’t packed any of his old blends for his journey to Eridia, nor was there a particular abundance of ingredients to make them on the way. And he wouldn’t expect the Wet Wick to readily serve tea, considering the tastes of the regular patrons.

Jin followed Ais through the doorway, taking in the unnatural stillness of the blood-red lake in the centre, the messy and desperate writing on the crimson pillars. It was still unsettling, but fortunately, he was better prepared for the ghoulish sight of the Seaspring this time. What he was decidedly unprepared for was an excitable Soulless barrelling into him before he took two steps into the building.

“Oof!” 

The alchemist’s heart rate spiked involuntarily as the red-eyed Soulless leaped up to his chest — before he willed himself to calm down. Princess didn’t mean him any harm, and that was more than he could say for many of the people he’d encountered since arriving in Eridia. The familiar Soulless creature snuffled, tail wagging back and forth excitedly. A breathless, unbridled laugh flew out of him.

“I’m happy to see you, too, Princess,” he said, and he truly meant it, brushing a hand through the creature’s tendrils. 

Before Princess, Jin had never allowed himself to touch another living thing, aside from his plants. Even though he couldn’t really feel her under his fingers, the Soulless creature — dog? — gave him a brief moment of normalcy he desperately craved. And gods, he realized he ought to be careful around any red-eyed Soulless, too, because what would happen if his curse infected the groupmind? What would happen to Princess? To Ais?

A sharp whistle cut across the air. Princess obediently backed off of the alchemist, all six feet back on the floor, though Jin managed to give her one last brush through her tendrils.

He hadn’t exactly had much time to explore the space when he was here last, so he mostly followed Ais’s lead, taking a seat on one of the worn cushions beside a low table. He watched him pour the fragrant tea into a cup, steam dancing between them like cigarette smoke.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” Jin accepted the tea and then he noticed something. “Wait, where’s your cup?”

“There’s only one, but I figured it’d be rude to offer tea then not give any.”

“Then…this was supposed to be yours.” Of course it was. Jin was the one who showed up all of a sudden, out of nowhere, he interrupted his peace, Ais was just being polite, he wasn’t supposed to actually accept the invitation, why was he so bad at this—

“S’fine,” Ais said, interrupting the alchemist’s internal spiral with a light shrug. “This place doesn’t really get many visitors. I usually just use what I need, so this is all I have out at the moment.”

“Truly?” The alchemist’s brows furrowed in confusion as he recalled conversations from the night before. “Not even Vere or Kuras? They seem to be fond of you.”

The Monster’s lip quirked up. “Can you imagine either of them in a place like this?”

Jin considered that for a moment, pictured Vere and Kuras sitting in the room with them. Kuras, his particular warmth and light at odds with the oppressive depth and heat, like comparing sunlight to fire smoke. Vere, with his wild and restless energy, coiled and bound but there nonetheless, a stark contrast to the unnatural stillness of the Seaspring.

“No,” he acquiesced. “I suppose not.”

Then…why did Ais invite him inside? He didn’t think of himself as a typical visitor to a place like the Seaspring — the fact that he’d already visited twice, two days in a row, both times of his own volition, notwithstanding…

Jin raised the cup to his lips, paused, then set it back on the table. “It feels strange to be the only one drinking. Why don’t we just share?”

He pushed the cup back to Ais. “I’ll drink after you.”

Ais let out a short exhale that sounded like a laugh. “Scared I tampered with it? Sorry to disappoint, poison’s more of Leander’s thing.”

“Oh, no!” Jin shook his head, only then realizing how it sounded. He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I thought it’d be polite to wait for the host to—I’m sorry, I…don’t know how to act around people.”

The Monster was strangely quiet for a moment. Jin couldn’t see his expression from the shield of his bandaged hands but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to read it anyway. The next thing he heard was Ais’s sigh and he tensed, bracing himself for the other’s disappointment.

“Don’t apologize,” Ais mumbled to the alchemist’s shock. “Hosts don’t usually bully their guests this much…No wonder we don’t get many visitors.”

Now that Jin truly thought about it, Ais seemed rather awkward now as well — he simply covered it up better. But Jin noticed how he ran his hand through Princess’s tendrils, almost like she was his lifeline. A spot of familiarity in an unfamiliar situation. Jin understood the feeling better than anyone.

And it was oddly comforting to realize that he wasn’t the only person new to this.

A laugh escaped Jin before he could stop it. He slowly lifted his head and caught Ais’s small smile. “I have a feeling that guests don’t often curse and reprimand the host for asking them to leave their home, either. That, I can apologize for.”

“Hm.” Ais took the cup and raised it in a small toast. “To being a terrible host and a terrible guest.”

And with that, they each took a sip. Jin sighed, letting the warmth from the tea settle into his bones, trying not to think about how close his lips had been to the spot the other man drank from. Strong and sharp with a distinct smokiness, the tea seemed fitting for Ais.

From the corner of his eye, Jin noticed Ais studying the jar of salve again. His curiosity got the better of him, as it often did. “Do they hurt terribly? Your hands…the bruising.”

The Monster pondered on that question for several beats longer than Jin expected, the look in his eyes somewhat distant and resigned. “You get used to it.”

And then those eyes flickered down to Jin’s own hands and the alchemist’s breath caught in his throat. He waited for him to ask about them. Ais hadn’t pried too much the day before, much to Jin’s relief. But he’d seen the monstrous grey and gold for himself — there was no way he didn’t have further questions. Jin knew he would eventually have to answer, whether he was ready or not.

Ais only turned back to the salve — once again, granting the alchemist room to breathe. 

“Let’s see if this does any good,” he murmured.

“May I?” Jin held out his hands, though he had no idea what to do with them so they ended up waving about in random, nonsensical gestures.

Ais paused to examine the alchemist — Jin couldn’t help mentally comparing the action to a curious dog, the way his focus intensified on Jin’s hands, the slight, questioning tilt of his head. He and Princess could almost be twins. The thought threatened to send Jin into an unprompted fit of laughter, which wasn’t conducive to his current objective — which was…

…What, exactly? Nursing the Monster who had, just yesterday, threatened him and teased him relentlessly for no apparent other reason than his own amusement? 

Who was today…still a bit of a bastard, but one who let him know he wasn't alone in feeling out of place…

Who was also, as the alchemist newly learned, the spitting image of his Soulless companion.

Whatever Ais was searching for in Jin’s face, he must have found it, extending his injured hand.

“Go for it.”

Jin double-checked his bandages first, tightening the linen as a precaution. Once he was certain that there wasn’t a sliver of exposed grey skin, he scooted closer to Ais and gingerly took the other man’s hand in his own to inspect. Now that Jin was examining his hand up close and under better lighting, he could see the angry red bruises on his knuckles, the calluses covering his palms, observe bones that had fractured and healed over, time and time again. He tilted the hand over to look at the distinctively curved mark of the bite wound. It had fortunately closed — Ais did look the type to heal quickly — but if his…rigorous activities were a frequent occurrence, it wasn’t a generous assumption to expect the scab to reopen.

“It’s shallow, but I’d still rather not risk infection,” Jin explained. “And in case it reopens, it is best to minimize direct contact with other surfaces. That’s a bit difficult with the hand, since you use it more often, and often unthinkingly. I may have brought some extra—ah, here.”

The alchemist pulled a spare roll of clean linen out of his satchel, the bandages he’d collected from Kuras’s clinic, and got to work. As he spread a light layer of the salve on Ais’s hand, Jin fell into a more familiar rhythm.

Magic could wear on a caster, both mentally and physically — Jin knew that all too well, as a former apprentice of the study. Over the years, he’d become used to nursing Minerva’s wounds and his own whenever either of them pushed themselves too hard.

At one point, Princess had gotten up to walk a circle around the two of them, before eventually settling somewhere beside them both, her head nudging into Jin’s hip. Jin spared her a brief glance just to see if she was sleeping — she wasn’t, but she looked perfectly content and at peace — and it was difficult not to share that relaxed and easy sentiment. 

How strange that, with the past few days being as daunting and uncertain as they were, it was the lonely red spring in the middle of the Wastes, a place that seemed made for unease — sharing tea with the Monster that guarded it, while a Soulless creature rested on his leg — where Jin found his moment of much-needed respite.

Ais had remained oddly quiet while Jin worked — he’d expected a teasing comment or two — but Jin found that he didn’t mind it. It didn’t feel unnerving or oppressive like the suffocating silence he was used to, always loaded and judgemental and accompanied by a disapproving glare. Watching and waiting for him to make another mistake.

“You’re good at that,” Ais remarked absentmindedly.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Jin replied, carefully winding the bandage around the Monster’s palm.

His hand was so warm, the warmth seeming to seep through the linens. Or perhaps that was just Jin’s own blood growing hotter the longer he lingered near Ais.

Ais hummed once as the alchemist finished tying the bandage. “Bit excessive, don’t you think?”

Jin quirked an eyebrow as he glanced back at him. “You wait until I’m finished to voice your protests?”

He could see the beginnings of that shit-eating grin form on Ais’s face — not quite there yet, but he was getting close — and frowned. Why was that the one expression Jin could easily read in the Monster — the one that ticked him off?

He let out a sigh and held out his palm for Ais’s other hand. Despite his remark, Ais gave it to him without complaint or pause. Jin briefly scanned the bruising on the knuckles — mostly red, some purple and blue. It would take a couple days for the bruises to shift to a recovering green and yellow…if he didn’t get into any more fights before then. As of now, there was probably still a dull ache. The salve would help with the inflammation, at least.

“I prefer to err on the side of caution,” Jin said, turning his hand for easier access to the bruises. “Having a physical barrier between an open wound and the rest of the world is an additional precaution. Besides, if you find that one layer of linen gives you too much trouble, you can always remove it. Or…”

His gaze darted back to Ais’s face briefly as he dipped his bandaged fingers into the pot.

“You can get used to this as well.”

Crimson eyes crinkled with what appeared to be approval. “Touché.” 

Jin would never understand this man.

As he applied the salve to Ais’s knuckles, a question popped into Jin’s mind. Well, in fairness, the alchemist had many questions about everything — the Senobium, the Seaspring, the seemingly tamed Soulless — popping into his head  but this one felt the least loaded and perhaps the simplest to answer, therefore the least rude to spring onto a host — er, patient? Whichever Ais was at the moment. 

“Why ‘Sparrow?’”

“Hm?”

“You keep calling me that. ‘Sparrow,’ I mean.”

“I can stop if you don’t like it.”

“I—! I didn’t say that…”

Jin felt a prickle of irritation at the knowing smirk on the other man’s face. He knew that Ais knew that he didn’t mind — nevertheless, the bastard made him say it out loud because of course he would. Ais-hole…

“I was just…curious.”

Ais shrugged one shoulder. “Sparrows are cute.”

Jin choked on his gasp, coughing hard enough that Princess’s head lifted off his lap to stare at him in the closest to concern that Jin had ever seen on a Soulless creature. He felt Ais’s gaze on him but resolutely avoided the Monster’s eyes as heat flooded his face.

“Cute?” he echoed after catching his breath. Was that meant as a compliment or an insult? Did Ais find him cute? Did Jin even mind? Gods, he wouldn’t be able to hear that nickname without these questions swarming all his thoughts anymore.

“Mm,” Ais affirmed, sounding awfully amused as he — well, there wasn’t much use sugarcoating it —  as he watched the alchemist suffer, the ass. “They also startle easily.”

“Startling? No, it was just…u-unexpected,” Jin said as he resumed applying the salve. “And I’ll remind you, most people would be startled by a pack of hostile Soulless suddenly backing them into a corner.”

“Ah, right — and they tend to have this habit of sneaking into places when the opportunity arises. Whether they’re supposed to be there or not.”

Now Jin lifted his gaze to meet Ais’s and yep, there was that shit-eating grin. Right on time.

“I called out for you!” As the Monster’s smile grew, so did the alchemist’s indignation. “And the door was unlocked, we— We’ve been over this!”

“So, ‘Sparrow,’” Ais continued, as if he didn’t hear Jin. The ass. “Seemed fitting.”

And Jin was aware that his cheeks had grown hot, he was just unable to ascertain whether it was from being flustered or annoyed. Both, he ultimately decided. Ais had an uncanny talent for eliciting these two particular feelings in him, simultaneously.

“You also called Mhin a dove. I think you secretly just really like birdwatching.”

The Monster let out a quiet snort. “You got me.”

“Cute, cowardly and an occasional trespasser to summarize,” the alchemist murmured, shaking his head. “Now I’m wondering if I should dislike the nickname after all.”

“Hm. So you do like it.”

Jin frowned at Princess, searching for a hint of sympathy in — at least one of — the Soulless creature’s several red eyes. Poor thing lived with the man, after all. 

He didn’t find any. Princess only lifted her head and stared back expectantly as if waiting for something. Jin acquiesced — this particular Soulless was dangerous, only instead of the danger lying in her knife-sharp teeth and claws, it was in the way she made it impossible to deny her — and took a brief pause from his attention on Ais to scratch her under the chin. She rewarded him with a happy wag of her tail, smacking Ais in the face.

“Pfff—” And Jin couldn’t hold in his laugh at that, seeing the cool and nonchalant Monster’s face suddenly scrunch up in surprise. “Sorry, sorry…it’s just…”

Ais’s eyes narrowed into a playful glare and Jin dissolved into helpless giggles again, attempting, in vain, to muffle them with a bandaged hand. All he accomplished was getting some salve on his cheek.

“Right, um, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen, but with that being said…Good girl, Princess.” 

The Soulless let out a pleased sound almost like a yip, tail wagging even harder. Jin wasn’t sure if she fully understood what she’d done, but she seemed to recognize his words as praise quite easily — and that was, perhaps, the result of a master who praised her often. Princess’s tail slapped Ais with each wag — and threatened to send Jin into another fit of laughter — but the Monster remained unfazed now that the initial surprise had worn off. He could make to move away, but he didn’t, keeping his hand extended in Jin’s grasp, waiting for the alchemist to finish his task.

Jin had initially interpreted the Monster’s nonchalant manner as apathy or arrogance, but that seemed inaccurate now, upon further observation. Ais simply had an abundance of tolerance and patience.

He finished with the application and placed the lid back on the jar.

“Alright, we should be done,” he said, releasing Ais’s hand. The loss of warmth as Ais drew his hand back was more immediate and apparent than he'd expected.

“You may continue using the salve as often as needed, but once a day is enough to speed the healing process. And — this should go without saying — it is generally not recommended to expose the hurt area to further trauma. So…try not to get into any more fights — at least, not any time soon.”

Ais remained silent but there was a knowing, mischievous gleam in his eyes that conveyed — quite straightforwardly — the approximate chances of him following that advice. Jin sighed.

“…Or you can just roundhouse kick your way to victory instead. That’d also cause less strain on the knuckles.”

“Not a bad idea — would’ve made last night an actual challenge,” Ais said — and Jin truly couldn’t tell whether he was being sincere. 

He was probably only messing with him. Probably.

Ais was a fearsome gang leader of the Wastes, there was no way he would act so foolishly.

…Just in case, Jin made a mental note of all the herbs and ingredients he would need to make more of the healing salve — legs were a larger surface area, after all — and ignored the blatant implication that this wasn’t a one-time occurrence and he’d already made plans to visit the Monster again. Gods, what did that mean for them? Were they friends now?

“I, um,” he began, lacking adequate words to part with. “I should probably get going, not to waste the daylight. After all, I am still in search of that miracle cure.”

He took out a small handkerchief and wiped the salve from his bandages, then performed another check over the linen. Nothing had shifted out of place, but Jin still tightened their placement around his hands on habit.

Ais watched him through the whole process, expression becoming unreadable once again. “Good.”

Maybe one day, Jin would learn to recognize the Monster better — the way his face shifted between happiness, sadness, anger — the way he wore his emotions.

…

Jin had meant what he’d said upon his arrival.

He hadn’t come for the Seaspring.

“Thank you,” he said. “For the tea. Um, I suppose I now owe you a drink.”

Jin watched Ais’s sharp features soften as if he understood what that “thank you” actually meant.

“Thanks,” Ais replied as he traced over his bandaged hand. The corner of his lip turned up in humour. “For the excess.”

Jin scratched Princess under the chin, biting back his smile as her tail smacked right into Ais's grin.

The alchemist would pretend that his ensuing laugh, light and carefree, didn't follow him after the tea was gone.

#I have written my second fanfic with another touchstarved oc woohoo! #as with everything I write this is mostly fluff #if you want to see ais with a veeeeeery awkward mc here you go! #*cough* projection? who is that? #touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved oc #touchstarved ais #ais x mc #ais x oc #mc x ais #oc x ais #jin x ais #ais x jin #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #original character #oc #my oc #jin the alchemist #touchstarved fanfic #my fanfic #fanfic #my fic #fluff

[thebunztalk]

Mimic story in sb theory!!!!

Uh spoilers maybe…it’s been 3/4 weeks tho

Before I start, I wanna say that I don’t believe Tales From The Pizzaplex is FULLY canon.

Yes, Mimic does exist but I don’t think his backstory and personality from the TFTP is canon, maybe there’s some aspects that Steelwool put into game!Mimic.

The proof for this, is that game!Mimic is slow. When Cassie gets chased by Mimic, she runs but her stamina drops faster than Gregory and runs slower while Mimic is even slower than Cassie. And book!Mimic hunted a group of teenagers which are faster than Cassie and yet Mimic killed the group like it was nothing…

Another proof is in TFTP, book!Mimic rips people heads and limbs off and in Ruin, Mimic’s jumpscare shows him grabbing Cassie’s head to rip her.

But when you actually look at both Mimic jumpscare

It looks like he’s trying to wack Cassie on the head instead of trying to grab or rip her and for the Mimic jumpscare without the suit, it looks like he’s putting his hand on front to Cassie’s face instead of his whole palm.

I also don’t believe GGY is canon, I mean sure, amnesia is a thing and Gregory could forgot about what he did

but then again…him being NATURALLY good at computer tech and hacking doesn’t really match to SB taken from his dialogue…

“I don’t know, it looks pretty complicated…”

It’s not that complicated actually, it’s just so much memorizing.

OK! Now let’s get officially started.

Staffbot Silo/Post it room

In my theory on Mimic, I said he’s the one writing these notes, Vanny created him for the purpose of a physical body for Glitchtrap but didn’t work, him kicking Freddy out of the main system and Mimic spying on Gregory through the caution bots/Patpats.

I’ve also talked about Mimic is the one scattered the retro cds for Gregory to find and him waiting in the fake Michael’s living room for Gregory to come see him because Mimic wants to get to know him better.

And from what you guess on the title, I want to tell about Mimic’s story before SB and in the middle of SB but let’s talk about this first.

Specifically the language. In TFTP The Mimic, a young kid named David and book!Mimic decides to make a hand sign language for Mimic to communicate

and when their father wrote in of what the language looks like…it looks like the image that I just showed you. Hopefully! I dunno, I never read TFTP but from what people said, the writing is very similar to the wall code.

Since I said that Mimic’s backstory isn’t canon how does this work? Well I said Vanny could’ve created Mimic and she is very smart, Vanny could be also the one created that hand sign language for game!Mimic to communicate better. But why?

Because in Ruin, you reach closer to the underground, Grimic’s voice sounds less human and more of a bunch of words that stuck together and when Cassie meets the real Mimic, he doesn’t speak (other than “I’m Gregory”) so that’s why Vanny created that language and in the notes you can read that was talking to someone. Like this

Now, was Mimic got put in the endo warehouse?

Maybe. Maybe, after Vanny realized that Mimic is its own being, she putted him in the warehouse with the other endos and from their walk/run cycles, it looks like they have a mimicking feature of their own…that they able to copy the Glamrocks’ AI and the wall/door to teach them. My proof that Mimic was there.

This would make sense, in a way that Vanny is trying to make Mimic just like Glitchtrap.

So I said in the beginning, that Mimic’s run cycle is very slow and he doesn’t copy the Glamrocks’ or Gregory’s.

So maybe Mimic is a slow learner when he was in the warehouse and from the post it notes, his writing is progressing to be a more steady one. So he just needs to take his time on learning how and what is surrounds him and that causes him to be a slow learner (autistic robot real).

Vanny notices this and decides to move Mimic down to Staffbot silo so the employees won’t get suspicious about Mimic and to learn at his own pace and give a lifetime supply of post it notes to Mimic.

From the look of the room, Mimic has been in the Staffbot silo for a while and he has of a more developed mind but he is still a child, he just wants to be grown up.

Connecting Caution bots

While Mimic have been staying in the Staffbot silo, employees starting to get a little too close to the truth then Vanny kills them, with her recent action being the message “All staff meeting”. That also happened to Glamrock Bonnie.

He must’ve trying to investigate about all the strange stuff that happened like the disappearances of children and the staff. The question is who Vanny used to kill Bonnie? Was it actually Monty? Roxy? Prototype Freddy? Or Mimic. If Mimic killed Bonnie, he either gotten pressured or told to just “decommission” Bonnie by Vanny. In the end, Mimic able to connect to the Patpats or he already did get connected and they’ve decommissioned Bonnie because he got to close to the truth.

Which I wanna say that the reason why, Bonnie’s eyes stopped glowing when you deactivate the Patpats is because Mimic must’ve felt guilty about killing him and decided to connect Bonnie with the Patpats too.

The start of SB

Mimic saw Gregory at his stay in the Pizzaplex through the Patpats. Mimic watched Gregory a few times when he’s trying to be in shelter, Gregory must’ve been staying in the Pizzaplex for at least two days that Mimic gets curious about him and his behavior.

Sadly, that has to end when Gregory gets caught by Vanny or Vanessa BUT Mimic has a plan, he wants to help Gregory get out of this mess then Freddy had an error moment when he saw Gregory and Vanny/Vanessa in the crowd but then he had full shut down because something kicked him out of the main system. Mimic kicked him out. That distracted Vanny/Vanessa that Gregory able to get out of their grasp.

Mimic wants to know Gregory more so he can’t just leave then he knows how to make Gregory stay little longer. Make a scavenger hunt! That’ll keep him busy. Mimic leaves the Staffbot silo but when he got out, he crashed into a bunch of boxes

He tried to put boxes in its place but he doesn’t have the time do this right now. Mimic searching for something to use in the scavenger hunt.

Now the retro cds can only be found by using Roxy’s eyes and since the Glamrocks and Mimic is connected to the AR system, Mimic could have found a bunch of data that’s complied into a cd and somehow Roxy’s eyes can make it into a reality.

Mimic found the retro cds through the AR world and scattered all of them in the Pizzaplex for Gregory to find.

Fake SL living room

Mimic is staying in the fake SL living room while Gregory’s doing his 6 hour adventure. He’s been watching Gregory in security cams and Patpats through the TV. Why did I said he watching Gregory through the TV?

Because in ruin, we can see a security footage of Gregory and Vanny so there’s a possibility that Mimic can see Gregory like this too.

Now does Mimic just sit and wait for Gregory to come and that’s it? No. I’m sure, Mimic helped Gregory along with Freddy but how?

The messages

Throughout the game, you can collect messages in the shape of a duffel bag that can help you or for lore reasons. So how Mimic can send the messages despite that in game, you’re collecting them yourself? Simple, that’s just a game mechanic.

In one of Freddy’s unused dialogues, he mentioned about one of the messages on how to get to the catwalks. So in game, you have to collect the messages but in story, Gregory got messages at random times but in certain places. And there’s this one place where you get the “PQ 1 maint” message. The first message that Gregory founds out about PQ

The same place where you can find Bonnie in Ruin (I’m on the 10 images limit but you know what I mean).

If Mimic send all of those messages to Gregory then why he sent the message about PQ despite the arcade machine could free Vanessa.

Maybe the Bonnie and all Staff meeting incident made Mimic realize something that what Vanny’s doing isn’t good or normal. Maybe he wants to free Vanny because he knew something was wrong and the only way to do that is playing PQ but it didn’t exactly work…

(I think the “HI DAVE” and “Better Employees” message was a message misread speedrun send accident or Mimic thinks it would be funny)

A challenge message

Back to fake SL living room, there’s this message behind the TV and I said that the language was created by Vanny so ONLY Vanny and Mimic knows about this language but what if i told you Mimic1/Glitchtrap also knows about it.

When you think about the translation of the message, it sounds like a taunt, a challenge.

Taken from the quote

“Break and mend, i built the breath. They hunt now, drawn to life. Not real, still keen. And frit and fraught with thought and zest and gest no blunt woes. Dodge, duck, flash, shoot, crawl, run, crash the vile band. Cry not, try not, do not hold out hope, no. Your life, your aim will save those with soul.”

“I built the breath. They hunt now”

That would make sense for Glitchtrap because he built the virus and Vanny put that into the Glamrocks causing them to be aggressive. Obviously, this message is for Gregory but it’s not message…it’s a challenge. A challenge for Gregory. Glitchtrap is taunting him to fight through the night and destroy the Glamrocks which Gregory did just that.

But how Glitchtrap able write that challenge despite he doesn’t have a physical body? Mimic also got affected by the virus in which cause Glitchtrap to control him and wrote that message. So here’s what happened

Mimic was helping and watching Gregory through the TV then he got glitched and errors, he dropped his popcorn (yes, I think Mimic was the one who carried two popcorns and eating it) Glitchtrap took control and wrote that code then he leaves and Vanny founds him.

Vanny hides Mimic to somewhere below the Staffbot silo and that place is Freddy Fazbear’s pizza place, that’s where Mimic’s story ends and y’know how it goes next,

Gregory and Freddy goes to Fazer Blast and Vanny disassemble Freddy, Gregory plays PQ 3 and freed Vanessa and which also “freed” Vanny and they eat ice cream together with Freddy being a head and Mimic saw that and he’s all sad, the 3 star fam are gone for awhile then they came back with Vanny created MXES and modified the AR world.

Now here is the interesting part

A story about a Mother and a Son

I’ll tell you one thing…there is not a single mother and son duo in the FNAF franchise. So either the mother and son is most likely a metaphor or it’s about Vanny and Mimic.

“Now i will tell you a story about a Mother and a little boy who lived alone in a cabin in the dark woods”

Vanny and Mimic lived in the Pizzaplex which they hide in dark places and the animatronics there seems aggressive.

“There was a monster in the woods but the Mother caught it and kept it locked in the basement”

The monster is Glitchtrap. Tape girl and Vanessa tries to trap Glitchtrap in different ways but the one thing about tape girl, that she had the option to delete her audio logs that was used as Glitchtrap’s hiding spot but she never deleted them…

“The monster always made scary noises at night. But the Mother would tell the boy not to worry because it could never get out. Then she would sing the boy a lullaby to sleep.”

The virus affected Glamrocks is seen killing their targets through the Patpats, Mimic asked Vanny about the disappearances but she told him not to worry/gaslighting him to not think about it.

“One day, the monster stopped growling. Instead, listened and learned the lullaby.”

Glitchtrap watched Mimic and learned the language that Mimic communicates with and used it to write the message.

“The next day when the Mother went out to find food, the monster sang the lullaby from the basement. The little boy heard the lullaby and opened the door…”

When Vanny got “freed”. The 3 star fam came back to the pizzaplex and put MXES in the underground.

MXES who is oddly similar to Glitchtrap is now the monster luring Mimic to the underground and trapped him there.

But wait…

Did MXES lured Mimic?

From most people’s theories, Gregory lured Mimic there because Mimic wants to meet Gregory. But what if Mimic’s messages to Cassie IS true.

In his first dialogues to Cassie, that SOMETHING grabbed him and he’s under the raceway and when MXES first appeared, Mimic told Cassie to “stay away from that thing”.

Then when Cassie talks to Mimic in the Monty gondolas maintenance room, Mimic said this

“I’ll explain it all when you get here. That thing is back! I gotta hide!”

It’s the fact that Mimic sounds very genuine when he’ll explain about how he can see what Cassie’s doing and he called someone “that thing”.

Was he referring to himself or to MXES because it would make sense that MXES is physically near Mimic.

Now, the very last thing to talk about

The elevator ending

In the chase scene, Mimic kept trying to run to Cassie. Maybe the reason why Mimic knocked Cassie out of consciousness was because he was desperate to have company especially when Gregory said that he’s been trapped for really long time.

Then if Mimic cut the elevator (as in destroyed the conduit) either he didn’t think that the elevator would fall or he’s so desperate that he’ll let Cassie get hurt on the way down…but I think I’ll choose that first one.

Conclusion?

Mimic is so tragic actually…same thing with book!Mimic. Anyways

AlsoiheadcanonedVannycalledMimicJimmysoMimic’sactualnameisJimmy

This theory is helped by @chaosnightgal

#fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf ruin #fnaf mimic #fnaf vanny #fnaf vanessa #fnaf gregory #fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf cassie #tales from the pizzaplex #who is tragic and who is a liar #fnaf tftp #fnaf theory

[sroloc--elbisivni]

"so how's the vacation writing going" well i made progress on a couple of the Actual WIPs i have posted and then i also saw this art by @wtf-a-psychoanalysis for space leosagi with usagi in the slave leia outfit and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i blacked out and came to with 2800 words typed up on my phone in the Notes app. anyway. love to commit sexual violence against a man via application of aliens amiright. went in a different direction than jabba the hutt, this is far future in the space bodice ripper au when the guys are running around having space adventures. cw: implied sex slavery.

“Well?” Leo hissed, prodding one of Donnie’s feet.

Donnie kicked him, face intent on his wrist computer. “I’m working on it. The camera network in this place is stupid big. Are we sure this is a guy and not an AI?”

“We’re not even sure he has the thingamabob we want,” Leo said. “Hence, you, hurrying up, in our near future, please.”

“Um,” Mikey said, peering through the slats of the maintenance tube exits. “Is this a bad time to mention—“

“Probably,” Donnie said, not looking up.

“—that the guy I saw earlier is standing right there?”

“What do you mean right there?” Leo shoved him out of the way for a better look and got an eyeful of draping black cloth and white furry leg. “Oh. Right there, right there.”

“Yeah,” Mikey said, pointedly.

“Listen, guys, I got this,” Leo said, and shoved the maintenance hatch open. “Heeeeyyy, sorry to ask, but do you mind just moving down the hallway whiiiiii…”

He got about halfway through his sentence before he pried his head out to talk with this stranger and convince him that they were just a couple of maintenance guys doing very important work who should not be interrupted. This was about when he got a good look at the man—very much a man—and lost his entire train of thought.

The legs that were uh, pretty muscly actually, revealed by the drape and cling of rich black silk shot with gold, led up to a belt of gold hanging low on some shapely hips. Trim hips. Put all your weight behind a solid punch shaped hips. The torso crowned with wrapping curls of gold around the shoulders and pecs was also muscled, in that really nice dorito-shaped bulk way. Scars crisscrossed the soft-looking white fur in more than a few places—a starburst on this hip, a slash on that shoulder, a scattering of burns like a meteor shower across the torso. Leo really wanted to touch all of them.

The look on the guy’s face said if Leo did that he probably would only get to enjoy it for like. Three more seconds before his untimely demise. He was some kind of rabbit alien, ears bound on top of his head and draping down like a fancy hairdo. There was one more scar over his left eye, arcing like an extra eyebrow and lending some punch to his glare.

“While what?” he asked.

“Um,” Leo said. Words. He could do words. Eventually.

The rabbit rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall and bracing his elbows in a way that showed off his abs. “Listen. Whatever you’re up to, I don’t actually care. If you’re going to try to kill Hikiji, I’ll have to stop you, but until you’re at his throat? Not my problem.”

“We’re here to rob him, actually,” Mikey chirped, sticking his head out of the tube next to Leo’s torso.

“Great. I mean it. Please, rob the bastard blind.”

“Do I. Uh.” Leo shook his head dragging his tongue back into place. “Who are you?”

The rabbit smiled. It didn’t look like a happy smile. “These days? No one.”

“Nice to meet you, no one,” Mikey said, and Leo elbowed him back into the vent so he could pull himself up and get on eye level with the rabbit.

“So, do you maybe wanna help us?” he asked, hopefully. If they could just get this guy to come with them, a little longer, maybe he’d loosen up a little bit. He probably had a nice smile, when he was happy.

For the moment, the rabbit loosened up enough to blink and snort. “What the hell, sure. What do you want to know?”

“Where’s the vault?” Donnie yelled from inside the vent before Leo could embarrass himself by asking for this guy’s number. “This map is useless!”

“He has fake copies of the blueprints on the servers. The real ones are metal engravings in the engineer’s quarters and can’t be photographed.”

“That’s—horrifyingly impressive. I hate that.”

“So do the engineers,” the rabbit said, dry. “Which vault? There’s three, but I don’t think you want the one for alcohol.”

“Wherever he keeps the, the,” Leo snapped his fingers, trying to remember.

“The Mambrino basin,” Donnie said. “Smallish, gold, contains a code only activated when a certain fluid is poured over it?”

“Oh, that. That’s in the leeward vault. You’re about three floors too far up.” He pointed down the hallway, and Leo admired the pretty blue crystal on an elaborately wrought bracelet he was wearing. “There’s a ladder that’s been locked for the last year, but if you’re blocking the cameras, you can probably bypass that too.”

A brief squabble ensued as Mikey and Donnie both attempted to leave the vent at the same time and tangled up their limbs. Leo ignored them with long practiced and grinned charmingly at the hot rabbit, trying not to look at where the smooth arch of his hipbone jutted out beyond the edge of the skirt-thing. “Sooooooooooo…wanna come break into a leeward vault with us?”

“I’ll pass,” the rabbit said, but he looked softly amused. “You all are really going to do this, aren’t you?”

“Of course!” Leo swept a little bow. “Stealing from rich bastards is one of our specialties.” He straightened and winked at the rabbit. “Along with daring rescues, if you know anyone in the market for one?”

Oop. Wrong tactic. The rabbit gave this horrible sad little smile and looked away. “Plenty of those needed out in the galaxy, I’m sure.”

Donnie and Mikey had finally worked their way out and stumbled upright. Donnie looked the rabbit up and down and said “Your outfit is derivative and tacky, I could do better. Call me if you ever need a stylist. Where’s the ladder I’m opening?”

“I’ll—” The blue gem on his bracelet flashed three times, accompanied with three chiming tones. The rabbit straightened immediately. “Down the hall, that way, third door.” He jerked his chin, didn’t point. His pointing hand was too busy wrapping around the bracelet, which had started to blink.

Leo grabbed up the rabbit's wrist—he was clutching it like he was in pain.

This was obviously a mistake. The rabbit’s eyes flashed and he jerked back.

“Let me go,” he snarled, and Leo was startled enough to drop his grip entirely.

“I—sorry,” he blurted. The rabbit was already turning around and striding away, black cloth swishing between his legs.

Leo hated to see him leave, and somehow, he didn’t much like watching him go either.

“C’mon,” Mikey said, tugging at his elbow. “The next person who catches us out here isn’t going to be that nice.”

“Yeah,” Leo said, staring at where the stranger vanished. “Sure.”

They got all the way down the ladder before he persuaded Donnie to follow the guy on security cameras all the way back to the main throne room of this big evil villainous castle on a meteor they were infiltrating to pass the time.

The rabbit walked in from a side door, not the big front one, and headed right for the big fancy dais where a human-looking alien in black and gold and brown was sitting like he owned the place.

The rabbit walked up to him and dropped to his knees. The guy, who had to be the Lord Hikiji they’d come here to rob, waved one hand for the rabbit to approach his fancy bench throne. When he came in reach, Hikiji took his chin in one hand, possessively, and held him in a bent-forward position that looked like it would be murder on the back.

The rabbit had his someone-else’s-untimely-death look on again, but he wasn’t…doing anything. Just standing there while Hikiji was saying something they couldn’t hear.

Hikiji turned his gripping hand into a caress down the rabbit’s throat and let him go. The rabbit moved to the side of the bench and dropped to the floor, leaning his back against Hikiji’s legs and staring at the wall. HIkiji rested one hand on his head like a Bond villain stroking a cat and seemed to forget about him.

“Hey, broskis?” Leo said, staring at the tiny screen like this might be the day he developed the ability to kill things with his eyes. “Change of plans. We’re going to destroy this guy.”

#usagi yojimbo #rottmnt #miyamoto usagi #ficlet #leosagi #turtles #space bodice ripper #i am having...fun. #yes that is a man of la mancha/don quixote reference 'aldonza' is usagi's theme song here