Defragmentation

Chapter 76/??

Dirk > Figure it out later

Summary:

A gamebreaking glitch tore the game session to shreds, right before they reached the end. Dirk Strider was already dead at the time. Temporarily. Which left him to revive in the aftermath. As the Prince of Heart, he doesn't have much experience putting souls back together, only breaking them, but at this point he seems to be the only one who even knows shit is broken.

He's the last person who'd trust himself with this. Not when he's out of time, out of place, and over his head being responsible for a little brother, a life, and a body his conveniently dead asshole of a splinterself already, thoroughly fucked up.

AKA: A game crash creates an unholy mashup of who the hell knows how many sburb sessions, and Dirk-as-Bro attempts to figure out wtf happened and how to fix shit for the brother who fears him, and the friends who don’t remember him. Because that’s what he does. But no Dirk has ever excelled when truly alone. Good thing he isn’t, he just needs to learn how to accept the help.

Preview:

It’s a long day.

Unbearably long.

Followed by another.

Followed by another.

You’re running out of time, despite having too much of it.

Read the rest => [Link]  

We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...

It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.

Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.

I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.

How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.

I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.

I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D

(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)

[index] [patreon]

Cyberverse Appreciation Week day four: romance AND divorce because this is megop babyy

*blows dust off WIP*

I was going to do another drawing but I pulled something in my shoulder 😅 I’m really pleased with how this fic turned out tho!

Summary: Megatron survived the attack by the Other One, but it left him in deep stasis for a long time. Now he’s finally woken up, Optimus finally gets to talk with him... but it doesn’t quite go as expected.

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Also on AO3

The news comes early one morning, while Optimus is finishing the dregs of his breakfast energon cube. The sender is Ratchet. The message is short and to the point, but enough to bring Optimus' day to a short, sharp halt.

'He's awake.'

Optimus doesn't have to ask who 'he' is. Doesn't have to ask anything, in fact. He has been preparing for this day for a while now, even if the news has him feeling helpless and lost.

But with the steely resolve that brought him through the War, Optimus clears his schedule and sets out for New Iacon Hospital.

Optimus stops at the door, squeezing his optics shut for a moment as he braces himself. Beyond the thin sheets of metal, Optimus can hear the gruff rumble of Megatron's voice interspersed with Ratchet's, achingly familiar even if he can't make out the words. It's been so long. The moment he's both longed for and dreaded is finally upon him, and now Optimus doesn't know what to feel. This could change everything – destroy everything. But he knows he cannot turn away.

With a steadying vent, Optimus enters the room.

It looks like any other hospital hab – a clean white room with a few accents of calming blue. The window in the far wall is open, inviting in a gentle breeze along with the morning sunlight. There's a small holoscreen – switched off – mounted on the left side wall, and opposite, of course, is a medberth, flanked by the machines required to tend a long-term intensive care patient. A chair here, an empty vase there – all part of a perfectly normal hospital scene… except for the patient himself.

Optimus' spark aches as he steps further into the room. He truly doesn't know what to feel. Relieved? Worried? Angry? Overjoyed? Megatron is many things to many people, and to Optimus… well. They never quite figured it out.

Ratchet pauses in checking one of the monitors when he hears the door swish closed, and straightens up. The look he gives Optimus is... odd. If he didn't know any better, Optimus would describe it as an almost malicious glee. It's enough to give Optimus a clue that something isn't quite right.

"Hi Optimus," Ratchet says cheerfully, before turning back to his patient. "Look, Megatron. Look who it is!"

Somewhat perturbed by this, Optimus finally convinces himself to approach the berth, if just to see what's going on. He cannot imagine Megatron putting up with being spoken to in such a condescending manner, and he half wonders if Ratchet only called him here to deal with the inevitable furious shouting fit.

But Megatron isn't looking furious at all.

He's sitting up, if supported by a few pillows, optic bright and plating shiny. He's almost as good as new, apart from the patch where his broken optic was and the scar-metal over his chest. And when he actually listens to Ratchet, eagerly turning his helm to see his visitor, the biggest smile Optimus has ever seen stretches across his faceplates.

"Optimus!" Megatron beams.

Oh.

Oh no.

Optimus gets it, now.

He fixes the amused Ratchet with a long, hard, unimpressed stare. It's not uncommon for mechs coming out of medical stasis to feel a little… off. Stasis isn't the same as recharge after all, and certain parts of the processor don't always boot up quite right. It's not dangerous, and nothing a proper defrag won't fix, but until then…

"I missed you," says Megatron, with a spark-deep sincerity that has Ratchet barely suppressing a laugh.

…Until then, Optimus will be treated to a very different Megatron.

Ratchet catches his eye again and winks. Optimus doesn't dignify him with a response, but can admit to himself that his anxiety is slowly unwinding. He'll still have to deal with the inevitable fallout, but not yet. Not now.

Optimus pulls the chair over and settles down. "I missed you too," he says softly.

"I'll let you catch up in private," Ratchet interjects, before handing Megatron a bright blue energon-pop usually reserved for newsparks at their first check-up. Ratchet is professional to the core, but if there's one patient he wouldn't have any reservations making fun of...

Megatron stares at the energon-pop as if he's never seen one before, before slowly putting it in his mouth. His optic widens, and he makes a pleased little sound that finally puts a smile on Optimus' face.

The door opens and closes again, leaving them alone. Optimus gets comfortable, knowing he’ll be there for a while.

"How do you feel?" he begins.

"Good!" Megatron says. “Where are we?”

“In the hospital,” says Optimus. “You uh… got hurt. Remember?”

Megatron’s face falls. “Oh yeah.” A faint shudder passes through his frame. “Where did you go?”

"Pardon?" says Optimus, slightly nonplussed.

"I missed you," Megatron repeats plaintively, gnawing on the energon-pop. "I remember…" he frowns, expression turning pained. "I remember you were there… when he hurt me. And then you… weren't."

"Oh, I see." It makes sense – it's been more than a stellar cycle since the Other One's attack, but to Megatron's stasis-addled processor it's only been a few moments. Waking up alone when his last memory was of being held in Optimus' arms must have been jarring.

"I'm sorry," says Optimus, "but I'm here now."

"Mm." Megatron crunches a bit off the energon-pop and swallows it. "Stay."

Hesitantly, Optimus slides his servo into Megatron's. "Alright," he agrees. "I'll stay for as long as I can."

Megatron's fingers close around his own, surprisingly strong for a mech just out of stasis but nothing compared to the gladiator's former power. He snuggles back into his pillows, smiling lopsidedly around the stick poking out of his mouth. "Optimus?"

"Yes?"

"I missed you."

"Uh, I know," Optimus says, not sure how to respond. This isn't real, he reminds himself – Megatron is confused, his processor isn't working properly, he doesn't know what he's saying. It would be irresponsible, wrong to take any real meaning from this.

"Before, Optimus," Megaton stresses, squeezing Optimus' hand a little tighter for a moment. "I missed you before… With the War… With the Wall…"

Optimus squeezes back. “The War is over, and the wall is gone – we can see each other whenever we want.”

Megatron blinks – or rather winks – in confusion. “The Wall’s gone?” he asks.

“Uh… well, yes…” Optimus scrambles to come up with a reason that won’t bring about a fit of rage. Or maybe ‘tantrum’ would be more appropriate. “You see–”

“Good!” Megatron grins again. “We can meet whenever we want!”

Optimus smiles wryly. “…Yes. We can.”

“I didn’t want the Wall,” Megatron mumbles. He stares up at Optimus, optic wide and beseeching, looking more like he's trying to hide in the pillows than relax into them, and drops his voice to a whisper.

"But I had to keep… him out."

Optimus' spark gives a funny little squeeze.

"It's alright," he murmurs soothingly, leaning in a little closer. "The Other One is gone. Forever."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise, Megatron."

"Good." Megatron relaxes with a shudder, and resumes crunching on his energon-pop. Optimus has barely begun to gather his thoughts before–

"Did you miss me?"

Optimus flinches. It isn't real, he reminds himself. It isn't real. It isn't–

"Yes," he confesses.

Every moment they were apart.

“I’m sorry.” Megatron's voice is thick with static. "Optimus, I’m sorry–!"

Oh no no no no nonono–

"Hey, hey, it's ok, it's alright." Optimus quickly leans forward, cupping Megatron's cheek with his free hand. It feels so easy, so natural, as if they were never apart at all – but Optimus doesn't spare time to think about that, because he cannot see Megatron cry. He can't. He doesn't know what he'd do.

“I forgive you,” Optimus says, and dammit but he means it. “I forgive you for everything.”

Megatron’s engine gives a little hiccup. “Even though I hurt you?”

“We hurt each other,” Optimus says, running his thumb soothingly over Megatron’s cheek. “Do you forgive me?”

“Yes,” Megtron says at once. The energon-pop is still poking out of his mouth.

“Then I forgive you.”

Megatron takes a shaky breath and seems to calm down. Optimus leans back, barely suppressing a sigh of relief. Thank Primus. Optimus can barely handle his own emotions…

Megatron’s brow creases, and he squeezes Optimus’ servo as if checking he’s still there.

“What do you want to do?” Optimus asks. “When you’re better, I mean.”

“Hmm…” Megatron’s gaze shifts to the far wall as he frowns in concentration. “Drive,” he says eventually, looking back at Optimus with that same painfully earnest expression. “With you.”

Optimus begins idly tracing the seams on Megatron’s hand. “Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Megatron crunches off the last of the energon-pop and lets the stick drop from his mouth. Optimus picks it up and tosses it in the waste bin in the corner. Megatron looks vaguely disappointed.

“It’s nice just to drive sometimes, isn’t it?” The open sky, warm road beneath his wheels… Optimus knows the feeling well. “I’d be happy to go with you.”

Although the first place Megatron will go when he’s out of hospital is on trial. It’s completely necessary that justice be served, but Optimus still feels a pang in his spark. He wishes desperately for a moment that Megatron won’t recover – that he’ll stay like this forever, open and earnest and… innocent. They could be happy…

But it’s a terribly selfish wish to make. And besides, it’s not what Optimus truly desires.

“Tell it to me,” says Megatron, oblivious to Optimus’ pain. “Tell me where we’ll go.”

It’s been a long time since he’s traveled without a destination. Optimus casts his gaze to the window and thinks.

“I hear the Manganese Mountains are splendid at this time of year,” he begins. “The terrain is rough, but we could manage it together.”

Megatron relaxes fully into the pillows and blinks sleepily. Optimus hesitates. That same selfish part of him doesn’t want Megatron to sleep, because if he does then this quiet, peaceful, beautiful moment will be over. The next time Megatron wakes, they’ll be back to fighting each other.

But dreams cannot last forever.

“We’ll drive up to the peak, where we’ll see Cybertron spread out all around us – Croaton, New Iacon, the Lithium Flats, the Argon Sea…”

“I want to see the sea,” Megatron mumbles, optic half-shuttered.

“We’ll climb down the mountain, and go to the beach,” Optimus agrees. “Your treads will do well on the sand, but I expect my wheels will have some trouble.”

“I’ll carry you,” Megatron breathes

“We’ll continue along the coast,” Optimus says around the lump in his throat. “Maybe… maybe explore some caves. There’s supposed to be treasure hidden in one of them.”

Megatron mumbles something else, but the words are obscured by approaching sleep.

“And after that… we can go back inland, to Carburisia to see the Cobalt Springs.” Optimus is just making stuff up at this point. There’s no real way to drive straight to Carburisia from the Argon Sea.

“And once we’re done there… we can go back to the cities. Maybe stop off at some new settlements along the way… there are some prosperous new energon farms…” Optimus’ voice drops to a whisper. “And when we’re back in New Iacon… I’ll take you home with me.”

Megatron doesn’t hear him. Megatron is sound asleep. He looks so peaceful, mouth slightly open, sunlight glowing softly on his face.

Slowly, tenderly, Optimus sets his hand down. He stares for a moment more, unable to pull himself away, before finally getting to his feet and leaving the hospital room. He passes Ratchet, but doesn’t say anything. Optimus needs to think. He needs… a long, long time to think.

-

The news comes late one afternoon, while Optimus is driving home after a long day of work. The sender is Ratchet. The message is short and to the point, but enough to bring Optimus' night to a short, sharp halt.

'He's awake.'

Optimus doesn't have to ask who 'he' is. Doesn't have to ask anything, in fact. He has been doing his best to prepare for this day, even if the news has him feeling more helpless and lost than he ever has before in his life.

But with the steely resolve that brought him through the War, Optimus turns around and sets off for New Iacon Hospital.

-

There are guards outside the door this time. An Autobot and a Decepticon. They both nod respectfully when Optimus arrives, neither surprised to see him. Part of Optimus wants to stop and chat for a minute, ask inane questions and delay the inevitable, but that wouldn’t be fair to them. That wouldn’t be fair to Megatron.

He’s alone when Optimus arrives. Out of bed, too, standing by the window and gazing out at New Iacon’s silhouette against the orange twilight. With his back to the door, his expression is unreadable.

Optimus stops dead just a few steps into the room. He takes a breath, trying to remember what he decided he was going to say, but Megatron gets there first.

“You actually did it,” he murmurs, not turning around.

“Pardon?” says Optimus, immediately confused.

Megatron laughs softly under his breath. “Peace,” he explains, nodding to the window. “A united Cybertron.”

“I didn’t do it alone.” Optimus manages another step forward. “Megatron–”

Megatron turns at last, outlined against the setting sun. He looks confident and calm, despite the stasis cuffs around his wrists.

“Why are you here, Prime?” he asks mockingly. “To rub it in? To gloat?”

“I would never,” Optimus says coldly, stung by the reminder of how little Megatron understands him now. “I want what I have always wanted – peace and understanding. And I will do everything in my power to maintain it.” He clenches his jaw and looks Megatron dead in the eye. He’s practiced these words, knows exactly what he has to say.

“This is your only chance, Megatron. If you threaten what we have built, I will kill you.”

To his surprise, Megatron looks away first.

“I know,” he says simply. “I–” a subtle shift, a crack in the veneer, “I do not want to fight you anymore.”

Optimus feels his shoulders slump. He walks across the room to stand beside his former friend, taking his own moment to gaze at his beloved city. It really is beautiful, metal and glass gleaming, light filling windows as night creeps in.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to fight you either.”

They stand in silence for what feels like an age, until the first stars have appeared in the darkened sky.

“Optimus,” says Megatron, a near imperceptible waver in his voice, “what do I do? What… happens now?”

“You will be put on trial,” Optimus recites, because at least he knows the words. “You will be judged by both Autobots and Decepticons. You will have an attorney. Your fate will be decided by Cybertron.” He casts a sideways glance at Megatron. “You will not be executed.” Optimus had made sure of that.

“After all this time,” Megatron says with a sigh, “death is the least of my concerns.”

Optimus faces him again. Megatron looks… tired. Not angry, not vengeful, not scheming, just… tired. Optimus knows the feeling well.

“I missed you,” he says softly, words slipping free without thought.

Megatron stiffens. He looks down, almost bashful.

Optimus reaches out. Slowly. Leaving plenty of time for Megatron to move away.

He doesn’t.

Optimus squeezes his shoulder. “Whatever happens,” he breathes, words deafening in the silence, “I will be there.”

Because through everything, despite everything, that is what they have been to each other – a universal constant, for better and for worse, for now and forever.

Megatron’s smile is crooked, but his gaze is soft when he meets Optimus’ eye. “I know.”

Defrag Protocol - Cyborg!reader x Doc Ock

#sick-fic, #comfort, #established relationship etc.

mini CyDoc sick-fic cuz im epic and was sick this past week. You could also consider this a teaser for my actual cyborg!reader x Doc Ock fic. I promise you it’s coming 🥺

(also I was gonna wait till I had proper accompanying art to post this, but it kinda sucked so... ur just getting a crop of the sketch for now. Might try again later XD that and im just rly excited about how the fic turned out ok i wanna post it!!!)

-anyway, fic under the cut:

You slowly awaken to muffled daylight assaulting your senses. Otto is already up and awake, letting you get an extra hour or two’s rest. You realize, however, that upon trying to move; your arms feel like lead, followed by your head and legs. Moving them feels like wading through molasses and as you come to your senses you feel your head begin to pound as well.

You’ve never felt like this before, are you sick? You’ve never really had a true cold or flue before. The nanobots in your blood lend to a pretty overpowered immune system. At worst you’ve had a few sniffly days during the winter. But as you groan lightly, trying to make head or tail of your body, you can tell that something is seriously wrong.

You sense Otto’s eventual return and the expected gentle shoulder touch. The whirring of his actuator’s seeming louder than usual in your weaker, more sensitive state. You let out a meek groan in return to him gently shaking you. It’s much wearier than your usual wake up refusals and this elicits a quick response from one of the actuators. Larry, you think, just from the sound, quickly rushes to your side and gives you a once over. “Are you alright, dear?” Otto asks, now circling the bed. You can merely curl yourself tighter into a ball, tucking yourself under more sheets in pain. An actuator claw gently lifts some of said sheets off of your head tho, so Otto can see your face a little more clearly. He quietly kneels down next to you. “Are you sick?” he asks, brows furrowing with worry. You merely shrug in response, you’re not entirely sure yourself.  You almost forget to respond, having gotten a little lost staring into his big brown eyes, looking up at you with gentle concern. Concern for you, makes your chest feel warm inside, or is that just the fever? “I don’t know...” You start “I’ve never been sick before... ” Thankfully, while meek, your voice sounds mostly normal, and it’s just your internal systems failing on you. “Computer virus?” He suggests, you reply with another tired shrug. Otto tilts his head dotingly before standing up, gently removing the sheets from your curled form. “Come here.” The cold of the morning air is quickly replaced by the warmth of Otto’s arms as he swiftly picks you up, bridal style. You may be a little heavier than someone of your usual height and weight class, due to all the metallic add-ons floating about your body, But Octavius continues to pick you up with ease. It’s relieving knowing that the apparent weight of your limbs is, in fact, merely in your head. You’ve gotten used to being picked up and carried around by the doctor, often preferring this method of traveling from place to place over walking... or flying. But its more often in the form of piggybacks or being coiled up in an actuator arm, even now being carried close to his chest still gives you butterflies. You don’t dislike it tho, in fact you snuggle against him more as you tuck your heavy arms against your body for warmth. Your limbs feel like you can feel every metal cable muscle strand in there for once, you really hope you’re just temporarily sick, this is really not the ideal operational status for a rogue overpowered military cyborg. You’re barely able to keep your eyes open but you sense the two of you approaching the small computer station you set up in a corner of the apartment. Otto kicks out the chair a little before sitting down and setting you in his lap. One arm still wrapped around you keeping you in place, the other reaches for the keyboard and enters the login. As the computer logs in and the multiple monitors slowly flick to life you feel the back of Otto’s hand rest against your forehead. This is met with a small ‘Hm.’ before both hands now work around you, searching the desks for some cables. You blearily exist in and out of consciousness as Otto continues to work. You gently rest you head on his shoulder and chuckle as you receive a quick forehead kiss from the man currently wrapped around you. You sleepily nuzzle into him more as you feel a hand fall onto the back of your neck. You’ve run through a few diagnostic sessions with Otto before, so with practiced precision he removes the protective plate covering the access panel on your neck, followed by the plugging in of two cables to several ports near your cervical vertebrae. You feel the usual rush of energy flow into and then out of you as data is uploaded to the machine. You must have moved a little in reaction as you feel Otto run a hand up and down your back comfortingly. You return to snuggling up against his chest as you watch streams of data appear in the corner of your vision. You’re too tired to look at any of the screens right now and just let the Doc do what he need’s to do, he’s familiar enough with your code now to decipher it. You’re jostled around lightly as Otto goes about entering commands and running diagnostics, but for the most part you remain sleepy and cozy in the arms of the scientist. “Anything interesting?” You ask after a short while, your strength seeming to come back to you slightly. The diagnostic process must be correcting some of the minor errors, but you still struggle to lift your limbs. “Mmm, it’s hard to say for sure...” He starts, his voice still a little groggy from waking up as well, it rumbles through your chest gently. “Looks like they may be some new bad sectors-” “There are plenty of redundancies,” You interrupt, with a yawn “try running a defrag protocol." Otto nods “Bad files clogging up over time causing compounding errors...” He adds on to your statement. “Yeah, something like that,” You nod back in return. “hopefully...” You add, quietly. “We’ll find out, love.” To this you get another quick kiss from him before he quickly writes in a defragging program into the terminal. ... “Have you done this before?” He asks, suddenly hesitating before hitting enter and executing the code. “Nope.” You shrug, “It’ll be fine don’t worry,” You chuckle, "I’ve done worse.” You hear a sigh escape the man before the sound of the enter key being hit. Suddenly begins the familiar tingling sensation of new code being uplinked to the computer half of your brain, then it’s quickly replaced with a new sensation. Your thoughts and memories, all for a moment get juggled around inside your brain, dancing around in your minds eye. You close your eyes so you don’t feel your eyes dart across the room as if you were in REM sleep. But as quickly as it came it starts to dissipate and your mind begins to feel clear, very clear actually. It almost feels like someone’s taken a pressure washer to the inside of you brain. You sit up a little, Otto watching over you silently and carefully. Slowly but surely you feel the strength return to your limbs and you roll out your back and shoulder muscles. You’re definitely feeling much better but it also feels like you just ran several marathons, you’re still gonna have to take the day or two to recover. “Feeling alright?” Otto asks, having watched you stare at your finally functioning limbs for several long moments. You lean your head back in his arms, now actually able to look at him in the eyes and smile. “Yeah, much better.” You say, stretching out your limbs. You hear a gentle sigh of relief from Otto who smiles back at you. “So no computer virus?” “No, no computer virus.” You laugh. “Thankfully I don’t go around plugging myself into random internet-connected computers, so it shouldn’t be too much of a threat.” You continue, gesturing to the cables coming out of the back of your neck. “But it’s good to know, even military grade cyborgs need to practice basic computer hygiene” You laugh. “Military grade prototype cyborgs.” Otto jests, gently poking the back of your left shoulder, where your tattoo reading the numbers #01 sits, currently hidden under the oversized t-shirt you slept in. You roll your eyes and click your tongue in response. You continue to wriggle and stretch in the doctors arms as you work the knots and weight out of your cybernetically enhanced limbs. Otto takes this time to terminate the data connection and gently pulls the cables out of your neck. He is much more gentle than you used to be with those, you laugh to yourself. After you’re all put back together, Otto leans back. “Time for something to eat, you think?” He asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Oh, that sounds like a very good idea!” You reply back, enthusiastically. But nary a movement is made by you. Instead you snuggle up against his chest again, looking up at him expectantly. He shakes his head and lets out a breathy chuckle before lifting you up and carrying you bridal style again. Of course, not without pretending to drop you on the way out. “Whoops!” “Hey!”

i feel like the "rape, torture and whump fic" convo wouldn't be complete without a shout out to that fic where the torturers vivisect the PoV character and put a snake in him. (not a euphemism but the subtext is tasty af)

really defragmented my brain about the appeal of non-sexual torture as kink.

great fic, love the author's work, *chef kiss*

--

for the fic meme: 🧿🤲

hi maggie it turns out my inbox is also broken. no idea if u will see this! but it has just now showed up marked 4 days ago :,)

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

Phew I think I'm pretty fortunate here. When I first posted in hrpf I reminded myself really strictly that I was used to huge fandoms and that I shouldn't expect like, comments. Which I then got, to my shocked pikachu delight! So possibly my method is setting my expectations low. I genuinely just want one or two people to get it, I really want someone to get it! But if I get that moment I'm gonna be okay.

I think the hardest for me is when I realize that I've missed the mark, and people are kinda misunderstanding a fic in a way that makes me feel shitty (vs interpreting in a way i didn't expect, which can be fun). In that case I channel all my energy into writing another fic but THIS TIME it is POINTED. It's like "oh, thank you for the feedback, [thru gritted teeth] i see where i went wrong now and i'm On It"

I'm not sure how advisable either of these are? But that's the vibe round these parts.

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

SO MUCH, FUCK. Remember back when we had to defrag our own computers so they ran smoothly? Writing does that for me, like combing out knots. If I'm feeling directionlessly shitty I check whether I've eaten and whether I'm in pain and whether I've written in the past week.

I only really started writing fic regularly in 2020; before that I was always a fandom artist and only a dabbler in writing. Writing just feels good; it feels like the best part of being drunk, it feels like being out with friends at a picnic table as the sun is setting in a place you want to be. I've made a lot of friends through it, and even where I don't make friends I do feel like there's a genuine connection in that moment where, like I mentioned above, someone reads it and /gets/ it. It's fleeting but it's fulfilling; I could do that all day, every day. Pretty often writing raunchy pwp hrpf and posting it on the internet feels like the best thing i've put out in the world all fucking month, like, "did this make ppl happy and make me feel fulfilled? Hecking yes." So like, yeehaw, i get a lot outta this stuff. Even when it's being difficult.

Also "D-S Oneshot" for when you are bored :D

Greetings and Salutations, Splendiferous Internet Mutual! 🥰 I think you dropped me this ask way back in… oh my gosh, April? XD Anyway, I feel like my brain has finally defragged itself enough to catch up on my Ask Box, so I’m delighted to answer this question.

“DS-Oneshot” is actually a folder with multiple subfolders, so you have essentially unlocked a bonus level—and you get to pick again ^_^

“D-S” stands for “derivative short fiction” which is a very technical way of saying “fanfic.” ...In retrospect, though, you may have thought I meant Do-S XD. I have another folder labeled “OG-Short,” which is where my original short fiction lives. Typically very nascent stories live here—brainstorming, info dumps, outlines, vignettes, etc—once a story has an outline, it usually graduates to its own folder. This is sort of like… a plant nursery, but for plot bunnies, haha.

Some of these plotbunnies are hopping around in the aether already (albeit in bits and pieces), because I tend to use Tumblr as a way to workshop jokes or sometimes scenes, which usually begin as incorrect quotes or headcanons. Last year’s yet unfinished Wanpanmas fic came out of people speculating as to whether or not Garou you could use Genos to power Christmas lights.

Anyway, your options are listed below. If a published snippet exists, then I’ve linked it but you might have more fun guessing at random:

Domestic OTP (I think this one is actually empty—it’s where any scenes of Garou, Genos, and Saitama being dorks together would live)

Afraid to Sneeze

Kingsai Oneshots (has two subfolders: “Saitama trapped in grocery” and “Saitama gets kidnapped”

Fiends (sequel)

Genos :)

Philadelphia

Are We the Baddies

Be the trouble 2 (OPM x BNHA crossover--chapter one is here)

No Bark (OPM x BNHA crossover)

Camp Story (OPM x BNHA crossover)

Anyway, thanks so much for dropping me an ask! These are always fun to do. (I’m still taking asks for this and other things! They’re always fun to do, even if I don’t get to them right away. But going forward, it is my intention to do them within two or three days... I’ve found it actually takes me more time, the longer I wait.)

Davepeta <> Dirk || Listen Here

Tear In My Heart - Twenty One Pilots

Ghost Stories - The Narcissist Cookbook

Jacket Over Hoodie Over Shirt - Marco Aziel

King And Lionheart - Of Monsters And Men

Absentee - Jack Campbell

Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

Ramblings Of A Lunatic - Bears In Trees

She Only Loves Me When I'm There - Ball Park Music

This is a redo of a fan playlist for the fic Defragmentation by @katreal-fic!, the Davepeta sprite I used made by @dirkcaptor-edits, found here.

Ever heard of fic called uhhhhhhh Defrag?

@katreal-fic

I might as well just straight up paste krwlng and defrag and ersatz abyss into my word docs for how much i fucking reference them

Commissioned art by @alexharrier for Chapter 75 of my fic Defragmentation. November 25th, 2020 marks 2 years since I started working on this monster, and here we are 300,000 words and 75 chapters later. 

...I’m still not even halfway done oTL

Do you get anxious whenever you start drawing comic pages? Is that connected to ending of Handplates? It's like you're trying to find any random activity to avoid drawing comics. And your usual sketches get less and less dialogue. I'm asking because I'm worried and I don't know what's happening. D:

Hmm... I haven't really thought of things in these terms? I was like "eh that can't be right" but then I did a quick look back and it does look like I've been doing solo shots or single/two panel comics for a while, haha. I've just got a lot of small ideas or images I wanted to get out recently. And I've been writing a lot of fic! Which I haven't done in a while, which is nice. Writing a fic (particularly lengthy ones, like the Hell jailbreak or the hanahaki one) is a lot more time consuming than people might think. I started the hanahaki one in early December and only just posted it a few days ago...

I was doing Handplates for such a long time, like seven+ years and all, that I'm assuming the vast majority of you out there never really knew me when I wasn't doing it. The thing is that Handplates is a massive outlier - I never did any project of that scale before, or one that updated that consistently or took that much constant effort. Never! Most of the time before when I'd start a big project I'd get distracted and never finish it, or there'd be huge hiatuses between updates (Vargas). It was super weird to have such a big project I so consistently updated and worked on. It's not common for me! I'm amazed looking back on it all that I was so committed to it when so many other ones fell flat.

Handplates took up a LOT of my time, so with it over I've been doing some other things I wouldn't have had much time for before. Playing some games, taking screencaps, writing fic, web design, little small experiments like all my pixel stuff. Just trying out different things! I don't think I'd say I was anxious about doing a comic page... it's more so that I'm just tired, I think. I was doing these huge elaborate pages that'd take days to finish for so long - now that I don't have to do it anymore, my brain just wants to relax, haha.

The reason for the slow updates on Defrag is really that I keep getting stuck lol. It's not really focused like Handplates and I still don't really know how it'll end. I keep getting stuck on what should happen next, so I keep putting it off. It's just me being a lazy writer rather than having anxiety about doing a page. |D

At least, I think that's what it is...

Words: 1003 Fandom: 镇魂 | Guardian (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shěn Wēi/Zhào Yúnlán Additional Tags: Comfort, Post-Coital Cuddling, Vignette Series: Part 3 of Kaleidoverse Summary: Together, Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei chase away a few more of the lingering shadows.

Just a little something for The Brush & Lantern’s August theme.

Defragmentation??? :OOOOO

Yes! :D that is indeed the name of the fic that devours my life!

I got stuck on one fic so I tried plotting another, and when that didn’t work I started working on another fic to break the block and accidentally wrote a fourth fic....?? What’s even weirder is it’s HAPPY and I hadn’t meant for it to happen but sometimes it just works like that, so I’m not gonna argue, just let it sit for a bit before I go back and edit it.

That said, it strikes one of the immediate to-do’s off the list, which means I can go back to staring at the ceiling and thinking about <redacted> for one of the other two stories on the immediate to-do list. :)

Okay, so, for the sake of some Ninjago fics I've been working on, I decided to do some research into how AI and computers actually work. If I'm gonna write Zangst then it had better be accurate, dammit. And. Well. I came upon a discovery I think a lot of Zane stans will find...interesting

Bear in mind I'm just an amateur who's only put about three days of research into this, but here goes.

As far as I understand, digital memory comes in two forms - volatile and nonvolatile. Nonvolatile memory is the permanent stuff, like hard drives and memory cards and SSD and whatnot. This stuff never goes away unless you actively delete it, or the permanent storage fails/gets corrupted in some way. Volatile memory, on the other hand, gets wiped whenever the system shuts down. Common types of volatile memory include RAM (Random Access Memory) and the memory cache, which are both volatile quick-access systems that catalog the most commonly used files and active program info so they can be accessed quickly. Data on programs that are open get stored in RAM, and unless its backed up into permanent storage then all their data is deleted when the computer turns off. This is why a word doc will delete everything if you close out of it without saving your work. Im oversimplifying a bit but that's the basic gist.

This does seem to work in line with the Ice Emperor incident. He appeared to have some kind of momentary shutdown/deactivation/reboot, and the computer literally stated "memory cache empty". And as stated before, cache memory is a volatile quick-access type of memory like RAM. But where RAM stores program info, cache stores frequently used data. So when Zane shut down, it cleared his memory cache and with it a lot of his memories. Id be willing to bet the glitching probably had some kind of effect on his ability to access permanent storage too.

As for his brief amnesia spell in season 4, again he had some kind of shutdown, clearing his volatile memory and causing a momentary lapse of recall. But this time, his permanent storage wasnt affected at all. Permanent storage takes much slower to access, hence why quick-acccess methods like RAM and cache are used to boost processing speed, but you can still access those files. It'll just take a while. Which is why Zane only needed a few moments before he was able to remember Pixal.

Of course, Zane is a highly complex AI the likes of which doesn't yet exist in the real world, so naturally his memory and file storage processes won't work exactly as a computer would. But I feel it's safe to say that similar processes would be at play here. It would certainly explain why both times he was able to recover memories that were lost or deleted.

"Defragging", as Zane mentioned in the Core shorts, is the process of repairing fragmentation. Fragmentation is when the contents of a single file get spliced into multiple different locations instead of one space, making access more difficult. Common causes for this are installing certain applications and editing or deleting a large number of files. Basically, the more you screw around with memory files, the more prone to fragmentation they get. So the question shouldn't 'be which memories is Zane defragging?', but rather 'which memories did he delete in order for defragging to become necessary?'

Now, if anyone is more experienced and knowledgable about this subject i would absolutely love to hear your input. But this is the product of my research, and idk I just find it interesting in the context of Zane.