#and it bugs me how it won’t copy paste indents

[silverpaintedstars]

Well, here’s a first chapter for y’all! Disclaimer it’s a little long, so be prepared for scrolling. I had a lot of fun writing this one

(if you havent read the prologue might wanna do that)

Chapter One: A Meal, An Encounter, and A Walk

He should be dead.

Somehow, though, he was alive.

But it felt like the opposite.

There was the left-over pain from the shadows, and on top of that, his face stung terribly. But he was alive, and he’d take that. Elliot didn’t open his eyes yet, still getting used to the fact that there was more life to live, and how he was going to use it.

It felt like he was laying on grass, or something of the likes. At any rate it was quiet, and he needed this moment of peace. He was lucky to snag them whenever he could, few and far between.

Finally he groaned and wrenched his eyes open. Grey sky greeted him overhead. He was laying on damp brush, rough and overgrown. Not too far from his original guess. A few trees dotted the land around, but he saw no other living form on this desolate wasteland.

Mustering all his energy, he slowly sat up, his head throbbing from the effort. He still had his traveling cloak over his shoulders, but whoever had put him here didn’t think to give him a bag or something?

Whoever had put him here…

Elliot looked around, then yelped.

On a rather large rock to his left, a black-clad figure sat, watching him. He wore a rather curious black mask around his eyes. A few strands of white hair peeked out from under his black hood. A scarf waved in the breeze, and a sword was buckled at his side.

All in all, he looked quite impressive, and like he could kill Elliot any second.

The black-cloaked young man quirked a small smile, his eyes completely concealed so Elliot couldn’t see any emotion from there. Clearly he knew Elliot had seen him but made no move towards his sword.

Elliot remained perfectly still, eyes wide and heart thumping. Did this person bring him here? Or simply stumble upon him? Not knowing made him feel even more helpless.

After a moment of the two staring at each other, the young man deftly hopped off his rock and strode towards Elliot, quickly closing the few yards between them. His boots flattened the tall grass, forming a temporary path.

Elliot swallowed, knowing he should run, but he was half curious what this stranger wanted, plus he doubted he could run faster.

The stranger stopped right in front of Elliot, who was still on the ground, staring up at him.

What he could see of his face betrayed no emotion as he reached a hand down, in the direction of his sheathed sword.

Elliot squeezed his eyes shut, frantically trying to shuffle back in the process. But when he heard no telltale shhhk of the weapon being drawn, he cautiously opened his eyes again.

A grey-gloved hand was outstretched in front of him.

Confused, ELliot looked back up at the stranger, who nodded his head towards his hand.

After a moment's hesitation, Ellliot limply grabbed it, his joints popping as the stranger pulled him to standing. Elliot dusted himself off, wobbling a bit. His face still hurt and he was terribly sore, but it was something he could bear to live with.

“Careful, traveler. Might get stepped on down there,” the stranger said. His voice didn’t quite match the rest of his outward appearance. Lower, a little hesitant but still confident. Elliot didn’t yet know if he could trust this stranger, but a part of him very much wanted to.

“Uh--em--tha-thank you,” Elliot warbled out, rubbing at his hands.

The stranger tipped his head slightly to the left. “And you are welcome.”

“Wh-who are you?” Elliot asked, knowing that stereotypical question had to be asked at some point.

“Around here you can call me Reaper.”

Elliot blinked. “Around here?”

“Yes.” He offered no further explanation. “I trust you are in need of food?”

Elliot hadn’t gotten there in his train of thought yet, but when it came around he found he was quite ready to board the car of food. His stomach grumbled hard when he found that inside this car were piles of food-breads, fruits, soups, and sweets. “Yes,” he said aloud, adding a hasty, ‘sir,” because it sounded safer.

Reaper smiled, pulling a wrapped parcel out of a bag hidden under his cloak. Inside were contents that added more memories to his car of food. A loaf of bread with a bit already broken off, a chunk of cheese, and an apple. He sat on the hard ground in one swift motion, crossing his legs underneath him and spreading the food on the paper, placing it on the ground.

Elliot clumsily sat across from Reaper, hungrily eying the food as more items filled his car as he looked at them.

Reaper tilted his head, as if studying him. “Go on.”

Elliot grabbed at the bread, tearing a hunk off and stuffing it in his mouth. He tried to go slow, act like he had some idea of manners, but the food tasted so good in comparison to what he was used to. Fresh bread--a rare thing for him. He was more used to barren soups, thin, watery things. This tasted a thousand times better, and Elliot felt himself feeling a sense of peace--despite dining with a stranger.

“So tell me,” Reaper said, watching Elliot eat, “how a High Elf like you wound up sixty miles from Orlem.”

He was that far away?

Elliot glanced down at his left hand, which bore the mark of a High Elf--black swirls along the side. He rubbed it. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. So then, Reaper hadn’t brought him here? Just...found him? He reached for the apple and took a meek bite, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Quite a scar,” Reaper said after a few more minutes of almost quiet, save Elliot’s chewing.

Elliot trailed a finger along the ridge, not trusting himself to be able to say anything. He ducked his head, letting his long hair hang over his face. He had finished eating and stared down at the ground, his head aching not just from physical wounds, but from memories triggered by it. Terrible memories. He willed them away, but it didn’t really go away. Just retreated until another vulnerable moment.

Why was he here? He was certain his father--no, the king--had killed him. He didn’t deserve the title father anymore. Elliot could bear king but not father.

And who was Reaper? Why was a random stranger being so kind to this small Elf boy? Elliot didn’t deserve this. He’d never even had someone really be nice to him before. Except Moss. But she was gone.

“Wh-where are we?” he asked Reaper, dragging himself out from his maze of thoughts.

“About a mile from Holden,” Reaper answered.

Holden. A town. Elliot had never been there, his few leavings of Orlem, the capital of Lucero, north rather than east, where Holden lay. He’d studied the geography of Lucero and the neighboring kingdoms, Chexon and Andromarche, before, so he vaguely knew the rough area.

What was so important about Holden? Was there a reason he had woken up here? Or was it simply...more convenient? He could think of plenty of wasteland around Orlem that would’ve suited the same need, but was closer.

“So…” Elliot started, trying to order his thoughts. “You--found me?”

Reaper nodded. “I was headed to Holden and came upon you. I couldn’t exactly leave someone in your, ah, condition.” For some reason Elliot got the feeling he didn’t mean his wounds.

Reaper rubbed his neck in an almost grabbing way. “To put it this way--most you meet will not sympathize with you. Since Loot has the throne, life has been difficult for most people, from cause of Elves.”

Oh. Elliot let that sink in. Because...of his father, people just associated elves with bad? And Reaper didn’t even know his father was the king.

“You’re lucky I found you,” Reaper added, snapping a twig in his gloved hands and making Elliot jump.

The world suddenly seemed a very messy place, and he’d been thrust in headfirst with no warning. He wasn’t quite sure what to do or say, so he just took another bite of bread.

“Now I know you probably don’t completely trust me,” Reaper continued, “and you just met me twenty or so minutes ago, but we can’t stay here very long. Benedons roam these parts, but the closer we move to Holden, the safer we are.”

Elliot definitely didn’t want to have to encounter a Benedon, a fanged, sharp-clawed creature. And there was a part that desperately wanted to trust Reaper. If he’d wanted to kill him, he could’ve. Elliot didn’t doubt that. But he hadn’t--and he’d given him food. So he had at least one good reason to trust him. But was it enough? He didn’t know who lay behind the mask. For all he knew, they were nowhere near Holden and Reaper was really leading him to his death.

He could never know.

But there was only one way to truly be sure.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go.”

“Good,” Reaper said, looking around. “Because I doubt you have a choice.” He looked back at Elliot. “Rest a while longer--you don’t yet look strong. Then we will leave.”

Elliot nodded, wondering how he was supposed to rest.

Turns out he didn’t have to think about it, for he lay back in the grass and promptly fell asleep.

He woke up some time later to see Reaper anxiously studying the sky, where the grey had grown darker. He hadn’t noticed Elliot was awake.

Slowly he sat up, rubbing the cloud from his eyes and head. Reaper looked over and saw him. “Good, you’re awake,” he said. “We should be off. If it stays clear we should make it before nightfall, but it looks like storms. Though I know a shelter if we need it.”

Elliot listened to his words in silence. When Reaper had finished he made his way to standing with an amount of effort. His legs were sore and his head began to hurt again, but he made it. Reaper nodded.

“You seem well enough to walk. You feel so?” he asked, shifting the sword scabbard around his waist.

“I-I think so,” Elliot repeated, trying to convince himself that the words were true.

“Then off we will be,” Reaper replied with a readiness to his voice that Elliot couldn’t quite match.

They began to walk east, though it was hard to tell with the clouded sky, but Reaper seemed to know the direction, which didn’t really surprise Elliot. His strength still was weak, but he managed to get in a groove to walk, heaving breaths but refusing to ask for a rest, wanting to prove he could do this.

Yeah, well, he wasn't convincing himself.

At all.

They walked in silence, Reaper still kept looking at the sky, making Elliot start to worry himself if they would get caught in the rain. They had been walking for about forty-five minutes when Elliot felt it.

A drop of wet.

At first he thought it was a bead of sweat from how hard he was pushing himself, but when he felt another, he looked up, confused. Another drop hit him right between the eyes. “Um-eh-Reaper?” he said in a quiet tone. Reaper didn’t hear him. “R-reaper?”

Reaper looked at him. “Yes?” He wouldn’t feel the rain with his hood and cloak, Elliot figured.

Elliot opened his mouth to speak, when the whole sky opened up. He was drenched in approximately twenty one seconds.

Reaper let out a frustrated huff of air, the first time Elliot saw him drop the calm facade. “Come on--there’s a place just over this next way.”

“How far?” Elliot asked, but was lost in the torrent. He followed Reaper, almost running in the rain. His cloak was soaked through, his hair dripping rain in his eyes. He could barely see ten feet ahead of him, but he could see Reaper’s scarf, and followed that blindly like a lighthouse on a ravaging sea.

He squinted, rainwater running into his eyes and his strength almost completely gone, but if Reaper promised shelter--he would push himself as much as he could to get to it and out of this rain.

Finally he saw a blur of yellow. He wiped his eyes and it focused into a small building that was just coming into view from behind a small hill. “I-is that it?” he had to pretty much shout to Reaper over the wet.

“Yes,” Reaper called back. “We will stop there.”

Elliot let out a breath of relief. Finally, he could rest. He could stop and maybe, just maybe, feel safe. Of course, that was making a rather large assumption, but one could dream, couldn’t they? If you weren’t even safe enough to dream, then you were truly cut off from your largest freedom.

Then a crack of lightning struck somewhere close and he jumped, knocked from his thoughts yet again, remembering that he was still in the middle of a storm.

The building--or whatever--was closer now, and thanks to the light from within, he could make out Reaper, the clouds completely snuffing out the natural light. It wasn’t quite nighttime yet, but it was darkening towards it.

Elliot wrapped his dripping cloak around himself, utterly miserable in the wet, feeling like a cat out here. Finally, finally, he and Reaper stepped onto the small porch of the shack, sheltered after what felt like an eternity.

Reaper threw his soaked hood back, his white-grey hair also dripping into his black mask, but he kept that on. “We may have to stay here through the night,” he told Elliot, looking out at the desolate, wet land around. “Walking around in this isn’t quite my fancy, though we are not far from Holden.”

Elliot only nodded, trying to peer through one of the windows that opened onto the porch, but there was a cloth thrown across it on the inside, blocking his view. “What is this place?” he asked Reaper.

“Think of it like an inn for us...vagabonds,” Reaper said. “But less ravish.”

“Oh.” Vagabonds? Was he considered that now? Reaper definitely fit that category, at least from the time he’d known him. But he wouldn’t have labeled himself one before, but maybe now.

“Well then,” Reaper said, wringing the end of his cloak off and dripping into small puddles on the ground, “shall we go inside?”

Elliot definitely had no idea what to expect in this ‘inn for vagabonds’, in Reaper’s terms. But he supposed he would have no idea what to expect of anything he encountered from here on out.

“I-I guess we will,” he said, swallowing and moistening his throat, ironically enough the only part that seemed dry.

Reaper opened the wooden door, and it whined on the hinges. Then he and Elliot stepped inside, out of the external terrors, and into the internal mysteries.

#wip #my writing #writers on tumblr #silverstars writes #elliot loot #reaper #my ocs #how the son of shadows was cast out #chapter one #i don’t remember the word count so ehe #and it bugs me how it won’t copy paste indents #but I don’t feel like editing every single line #also are y’all fine just me posting it here #don’t know if you’d prefer or if it’s easier to read it on the doc #*shrug*

[chocafe]

— doyoung as your best friend

pairing: bestfriend!doyoung x reader a/n: requested by the sweetest anon ♡  i’ve never done a best friend scenario, so i think this is how it’s supposed to be like? omg. on top of that, i didn’t know you could indent with the bullet points on the website ver. of tumblr, so i sort of messed around with that in this hehe i hope you all don’t mind!

doyoung always goes to you for advice

his treasure a hyungs lowkey get petty that he always goes to you for advice, instead of doyoung asking them

but you’re over here like “i give out the best advice. it’s not my fault doyoung likes my response more than you guys.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

some people are stingy with their clothes

but doyoung doesn’t mind you borrowing his clothes

not at all

sharing is caring!

being the little fashionista that he is

he helps you pick out your outfits and if you don’t have any clothes for a particular occasion

then he would go out of his way to give you his clothes, instead of you asking for them

“doyoung, it’s okay! i can wear the clothes i have in my closet.”

“hmmmm, but you don’t have anything that looks nice??? i’d rather have you wear my clothes.”

this is his nice way of saying that he dresses better than u so you better listen up

doyoung doesn’t really annoy you

but when a special event comes, where he just so happens to annoy you, like a five year old crying for their toys

then you know what to do

play his exo - overdose dance cover and he’ll automatically stop talking

he always begs you to stop playing the video

that video is his weakness hhhhh

during the day, the two of you joke around a lot

but once the clock strikes 12 at night

then the both of you won’t hesitate to start a serious conversation that can lead to hours of talking

doyoung would tell you about whatever is bugging him while you do the same in return

when the conversation is over and it’s the daytime

you two pretend like the conversation never happened

but you still take note of it in your head (and so does doyoung)

he always copies off of your homework

you don’t mind it and it’s sort of a usual routine of yours

when you have finished all of your homework, you’d take a picture of it and automatically send it over to doyoung

[txt] doyoung: omg how did u know i didnt do the hw

[txt] you: because u havent been doing it for the past two months

whenever you play a song

doyoung bursts out into a variety of different dance movies

sometimes ya’ll are lame and cheesy

and you would both randomly start a dance party with only you two blasting up your favorite jams

he’s really honest with you

but in the most nicest and subtle ways

so he doesn’t hurt your feelings

“byounggon is his name, right? he’s sort of cute ya’know…” you swing your leg as you weren’t sure how to phrase it correctly. “you should help me try to talk to him since he’s your friend.”

“byounggon? uh,” he pauses for a short minute. “he’s quite busy.”

“busy????”

“yeah, he’s busy for the next 10 years.”

“??????????”

doyoung and you are great friends!!!!

remember, best friends!!!!!

so you two understand one another the best

arguments don’t occur

but even if an argument did start

then doyoung would be the one to end it by apologizing first

it doesn’t matter if he’s right and you’re wrong

he just knows how to be the bigger person, despite his young age

doyoung runs errands for you

not WITH you, but FOR you

what a nice little child

you’d tell him how you wish you had the time today to go shopping for some food

since your refrigerator is empty

and the next moment, doyoung is knocking on your door with two plastic bags filled with food

“i know you didn’t have time, but i did. i bought you some food and you don’t need to pay me back.” doyoung casually says as if it’s nothing big

he places the bags of grocery into your hand as you stood there in shock. “you’re seriously the best! i don’t care, let me pay you back!!”

“no, it’s fine!!! i used the allowance my company gave me, so i’m not really losing here hehe”

you’re over here crying like “wtf why is my best friend so amazing i do not deserve him ಥ_ಥ”

#support doyoung or ill egg your house #jk #or am i not kidding #kim doyoung #doyoung #doyoung scenario #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagine #doyoung imagines #kim doyoung scenario #kim doyoung imagine #ygtb #yg treasure box #yg treasure box imagine #yg treasure box imagines #yg treasure box scenarios #yg treasure box scenario #ygtb scenario #ygtb scenarios #ygtb imagines #ygtb imagine

[autobuttonsanddeceptistitches]

Synthetic Life Chapter 44

This has been a story dormant for a year. Its hard to imagine that now, I finally get to upload this new chapter. I’ll be sure to leave a link to the first chapter (HERE) to make it easier to understand what is going on. Thank you, and I wish @lonemaximal the best.

Blue and purple optics opened to the sight of snow. A purple color seemed to blend with the mysterious energy. Arcee sat up, noticing the nearby trees set ablaze with a mysterious color. It seems the two Stunticons left after they assumed the flames got rid of her. Gentle servos brushed the ice crystals off. She got to her pedes and transformed back into a bike and drove past the flames. The femme shifted her wheels to chase after them. How much longer can they fight against these crazed mechs? Where is Knock Out and how can they find him in these terrible weather conditions? Could Megatron or the other Decepticons be up to something? She needs to find what those three are planning and fast.

      Blaster fire continued across the winter winds. Drag Strip looked at his brother before grinning) “Have fun with this!” Drag Strip yelled. (His armor began to break open to let six copies escape and enter the fight) “Oh, now you remember that stupid trick!” Wildrider yelled. “Let me concentrate!” Drag Strip barked. (The Autobots remained hidden) “Optimus, I'm seeing that Arcee's signal is parting further away from any of you. Has she contacted you about it?” Ratchet commed. “No, the Stunticons are blocking our way.” Optimus replied.

    Wheeljack drove into one of the Drag Strips, getting out his swords and slashing through it. Then he shifted his focus to another) “Come on, I've seen you do much better back on Cybertron!” Wheeljack snarled. “Shut it you old fool! Go work on some scrap duty!” Drag Strip roared. (The Wrecker smirked, moving away as Wildrider's bullet hit a copy) “Bulkhead, better hurry over here before I take all the fun!” Wheeljack called. “Don't worry Optimus, we've got this under control, message us when you catch up to Arcee! It must be important!” Bulkhead said. (He transformed and drove past the energy blasts and joined in the battle. As the rivals fought, the three remaining Autobots drove away. The blue motorcycle's signal is still far, but not unreachable.

    A few energy blasts hit the snow, rupturing the once peaceful scenery. Knock Out managed to drive through the deep indents caused by Breakdown. In their mirrors, visions of a giant black truck chased them. Both knew Dead End should be nearby, alongside that spider who started this mess. Breakdown's cannon came out, shooting to any trees and causing them to fall. This should slow down the Stunticons. How strange that they aren't vanishing into puffs of smoke. But, its better for them rather than caught and killed. Once the former Decepticon duo reached a chasm, the two transformed and looked back. Silence, snow continued to fall, blocking the noise) “I know this sounds stupid, but we need to split up. We've got three after us, we'll meet back up once we get out of this forest.” Knock Out said. (He leaped over the ravine before Breakdown could protest. The former Stunticon sighed, turning as his friend entered deeper into the forest. Audio receptors not picking up the sudden noises behind.

      Arcee followed the deep tire indents and the broken trees. Seems like a truck rammed into them. It must be Motormaster, yet the blaster marks looked so familiar. No, it must've been the other Stunticon that attacked her. She kept driving, soon reaching the ravine. The Autobot transformed, noticing a few fresh webs stuck to the rocks escaping the snow. Arcee knelt down, feeling the materials which caused anger to rush through. A servo shifted to a blaster, leaping into the depths.

      Drag Strip laughed, Energon bleeding down his face as Wheeljack raised a sword to his visor) “Tell us what your up to and I won't have to put you six feet under again.” Wheeljack soothed. “Sorry imbecile, you should've looked closer when you killed us.” Drag Strip laughed. (He vanished, leaving Wildrider to disappear as well. The two Wreckers looked at each other) “We'd better get back to the others, it sounds like Arcee is in trouble.” Bulkhead said. (His friend nodded as they both transformed, driving through the snow)

      “Hey Bulkhead, since the Stunticons came calling, I've been thinking about the past. Remember when we used to be friends with Breakdown?” Wheeljack asked. “Yes, wait, Scorpio didn't kill him. He was alive here on Earth until something happened involving MECH.” Bulkhead said. “So, we didn't know why he died. Then why did the Stunticons break that spider out?” Wheeljack asked. (A comm signal came out from the Autobot medic) “I may have the answer to that.” Ratchet interrupted. “Oh, what could it be now?” Wheeljack asked. “Under Arcee's request, I examined Airachnid's memories. Within them, I saw one of her victims; Breakdown.” Ratchet paused. “So why bring back his killer? Unless someone got a good chunk of Dark Energon and...” Bulkhead paused. “Someone's been messing around with science.” Wheeljack chuckled. “Optimus and the others are going after Knock Out. Its best you follow Arcee's signal, I'm loosing her's faster.” Ratchet huffed. “We'll be on it doc!” Bulkhead yelled. (The two floored it, racing past the fallen organic matter and plowed snow.

 Trees collapsed as the bark burned. Thunder boomed from the sword he gripped. Motormaster plowed across the snow, almost hitting scarlet red armor) “I know what's on your processor, and I ain't gonna let you have it!” Motormaster yelled. (Knock Out moved away as a tree got sliced and fell, hitting a nearby river. A saw and drill out as he avoided the giant's attacks) “You're dead, move on!” Knock Out retorted. (A powerful kick replied to those words, and he hit the ground. Motormaster jabbed his sword into the polished chest, sending out a powerful current. A grin grew as yellow optics observed the pain in red and black.

      A powerful blast crashed into the eldest before he could continue the torture. The black armored mech yanked his sword out and looked, finding three Autobots) “Prime, Bumblebee, and a little pipsqueak. Three more idiots to get rid of.” Motormaster huffed. “I'm no pipsqueak!” Smokescreen yelled. “Motormaster, what is your purpose here?” Optimus asked. “Nothing you need to know, its personal business.” Motormaster snarled. (He stomped onto the medic, now getting out a shotgun and shooting. The three Autobots moved away, bullets almost grazing their armor. Bumblebee's servos shifted to blasters, firing at the big oaf. The King of the Road looked towards the bug and smirked. Pulling the trigger at him right as Smokescreen kicked him, then Optimus tackled the mech to the snow. White armor moved past the others, pulling Knock Out away. Bumblebee looked towards the two) “Get him out of here! We'll meet you once we're done with him!” Bumblebee beeped. (Smokescreen frowned, but nodded. He gripped onto the medic and fled from the battle.

      Further back, two vehicles arrived back to the chasm. Wheeljack and Bulkhead transformed, looking down) “So, this is where Arcee's signal was last recorded?” Bulkhead asked. “Yes, be careful, I don't know what lurks down there, but it must be something dangerous.” Ratchet stated. “Nothing we can't handle.” Wheeljack smirked. “We'll be sure to remember that, thanks Ratchet.” Bulkhead replied. (The two leaped down into the depths, entering into the darkness.

      Deeper down the tunnel, Arcee moved past the openings that allowed snow to fall. Blue mixed with soft red hues examined the floor. Nothing that can alert the monster to where she is. The Autobot didn't care to know why her rival was set free. Its a new chance to finish what they started with what happened to Tailgate. The name still stung, much like the acid laced on her claws. This deep in the tunnel, the light from above stopped, nothing opened to allow the snow to fall. The trails of webbing continued, meaning she got closer.

      After traveling across the widened tunnel, the blue armored femme arrived to a large cave. A large hole up above allowed the snow to fall. Cool, something a few Cybertronians can handle. She knew not to spend too much time in this far out. That's why Knock Out chose it, because everyone knew the dangers. Yet, one thing intrigued her upon arriving to the room. Right below where the light came through, there seemed to be a giant web blob. Why did it look so familiar? Arcee approached it, getting out a blade and beginning to cut away the prison. It took a while to make a full mark, for the thickness of the webs and wanting to avoid tearing into whatever's inside. Her optics widened at what stared back.

      A vibrant golden optic, much like Breakdown's own when he was alive) “Silas?” Arcee whispered. (A loud muffled grunt came out of the bulky mech. The femme turned around right as a stump almost hit where she once stood. Blue optics stared upon the figure that hid in the darkness. Her shape obvious, like the poison colored optics staring back) “Surprising, isn't it?” Airachnid asked. “What do you have to do with any of this?” Arcee hissed. “I killed him once, I'll kill him again once I'm done with you.” Airachnid hushed. “Wait, does this mean.” Arcee paused. “He's back from the grave, but not for long!” Airachnid screeched. (She fired webs from her servos as Arcee moved away.

      The two continued fighting, with vibrant blue armor shifting across the snow. Airachnid towered over her, the extra legs hit the ground, digging into frozen rock. Arcee kicked away the spider, getting out her blades and cutting at another small leg. The former Decepticon hissed, moving back to clench the bleeding wound. Her rival rushed towards her, optics refusing to show nothing but fury.

      Breakdown watched their fighting, at least his one optic still worked. It widened upon seeing a figure coming closer to him. Dead End gripped his gun, pressing it against Breakdown's helm) “Go to sleep brother, it'll all be over.” Dead End whispered. (Right before he could pull the trigger, Airachnid's frame crashed into him. Arcee snarled, shooting at the two. Dead End vanished while Airachnid crawled onto the ceiling, hiding in the shadows. Breakdown muffled a few words, trying to make sense) “If you are the real Breakdown, then you'd better help me out.” Arcee said. (The dark blue mech nodded, closing his optic as the threads got torn off. Breakdown got up, servos shifting to hammers) “Then lets get them out of the way.” Breakdown growled. (The two stood side by side, watching as Airachnid and Dead End emerged from the shadows. Blue, purple, red, and yellow all glared towards each other. Uncertainty cutting through the silence. A fire burning bright within them as they awaited who attacked first.

      (The dark blue mech's cannon went off, almost hitting Dead End as Airachnid snaked away from them. Arcee tacked into the spider. The slender racing car moved, trying to avoid more blasts by his younger brother) “Can't you open your optic? You're wasting your afterlife away when we all want to rest in peace!” Dead End screamed. (Breakdown didn't reply, answering by hitting the mech's golden faceplates with his hammer. This caused the snow from above to bury the two femmes as they fought. Breakdown scoffed, returning to dealing more damage on Dead End. The sounds of their screaming and the clanging of hammers echoed across the tunnel. Then, he stopped. Weary red optics opened, Dead End's armor breaking down to reveal the purple flame in his chest. Vision twitched before noticing why his little brother froze)

      “Breakdown?” Bulkhead whispered. (The two Wreckers stared as Breakdown stomped on the second eldest. Dead End's frame vanished among the darkness, giving out a loud scream. Wheeljack stepped forward, swords still in his grip) “Been a long time since we saw you.” Wheeljack said. (Before the resurrected mech could speak, the snow broke apart. Airachnid rose up, clawing into Arcee's armor. Breakdown fired a few blasts at the former Decepticon, each hitting her back. The spider's rival broke free from the acid claws, rolling over to the three. Airachnid hissed before drilling into the ground. Breakdown rushed to the hole, firing off as many energy blasts as he could. A loud scream from both him and her echoed.

      It took a while before the lasers stopped firing. Breakdown huffed, blining as he saw Energon staining the hole. Arcee came up to the two Wreckers, unsure what to say at this scene. The former Decepticon lifted his helm, glaring at them with one optic. Then Bulkhead's com began) “Bulkhead, we've retrieved Knock Out, have you found Arcee?” Optimus asked. “Yeah, about htat, we found out why he ran. You're not going to believe it. Best we show him to you once we get back at base.” Bulkhead answered. (He turned it off, expecting Breakdown to run. Yet, he remained in place) “I'm coming, I want to make sure he's okay, except, Arcee, what did you mean by that fleshbag?” Breakdown snarled. “Its difficult to explain, so we'll clear it all up back at base. Lets go before those Stunticons cause us more trouble.” Arcee said. (Breakdown gave off a faint nod before turning towards the tunnel leading the way out) “Haven't seen you in a long time, you've changed.” Wheeljack said. “Yeah, after what you did to my brothers.” Breakdown hissed. “Still, quite a reunion with them acting like ghosts. How come you're still physical?” Wheeljack asked. “I am alive, I'm not a spirit haunting you for what happened. I am running from the Decepticons, except, it was Knock Out's choice. I went with it because I knew if I stayed, I'll die again.” Breakdown answered.

      The other Autobots and former Decepticon waited back at base. The swirling lights grew as a few figures started to emerge. Knock Out's armor's welded back, yet was under heavy watch from Bumblebee. They noticed Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack returning. All three looked back, noticing someone following them. Breakdown opened his optic, staring upon everyone. Optimus seemed intrigued, a white armored Autobot he'd never seen before looked uncertain. The humans with their jaws agape, Ratchet glared towards Knock Out. Vibrant greens and blues ceased behind him, leaving the duo among Autobots. The sole golden optic stared at his best friend, seeing one emotion. Regret.

#Synthetic Life #Transformers Prime #TF #Fanfic #Writing #lonemaximal #I'm so happy!

[honeypiehotchner]

dancing on my own -- part five

I ironically saw @msimpala67 ‘s ask about this part when I came online to post it. So hello!!

I’m not going to say Rob is a little bit of a jerk because I understand where he is coming from, but he is a little bit of a jerk in this one. It’ll be resolved, don’t worry.

Also! I have to run to school, so I don’t have the time right now to take out the paragraph indents (I write in a word doc and then copy and paste because I’m old school), so if they still show up, apologies in advance.

Words: 1,715

Summary: One year later, Sarah is back from rehab and doing much better. With her new job filming in her hometown and her little sister hooked on the show, Sarah decides to attend the convention in Atlanta -- her first appearance at a convention since she went into rehab. Rob is...less happy than expected that she has returned.

Warnings: angst, nothing else really, besides bad writing (I hate how this part reads lol).

~~~

Briana is the first person I call when I let my manager know I’m going to attend the Supernatural convention this weekend. It’s in Atlanta, where my job is again, so I might as well.

           I was in rehab for a while after my last convention. After a month, I was able to move to an out-patient program and eventually therapy twice a week. Now, with therapy once a week, I’m working again, this time on another movie filming right in my hometown of Stockbridge, Georgia. Most of our locations have been at places my friends and I used to hang out during high school, and most of those places are right down the street from my parent’s house.

           I’ve been staying with my parents for the time being as well, something my sister has been loving a little more than she’s leading on. She’s still in high school, though, so I hardly see her. Half of that is because I work during the day sometimes, but most of the time I am working half into the night or early morning.

           The convention this weekend is in the city and my sister – Anna – who is now hooked on the show has decided she wants to come with me. Well, we’re compromising. She’s coming to the convention with my parents, but since it’s only 20 minutes from the house, they’re not going to bother with a hotel room. I would let her stay in mine, but my schedule is a little more hectic and earlier than I think she wants.

           But back to Briana, I have to bring the phone away from my ear when I tell her because the scream she lets out is deafening.

           “I knew you’d be excited, but I didn’t think you’d be that excited,” I tease.

           “I’m so excited!” She nearly screams. “What made you decide?”

           I shrug, sitting down on my bed. “It’s twenty minutes from where I’m filming, and I have the weekend off. Might as well.” I pause. “Oh, and Anna is a little hooked on the show. She’s been bugging me for weeks about whether or not I’ll go.”

           “I love her.”

           I laugh loudly. “I’ll let her know.”

           “I’ll hug her extra hard tomorrow.”

           “I know you will,” I smile.

           She gasps suddenly, and I can just see the grin on her face from here.

           “What…?”

           “The pajama party is tonight…” She trails away.

           “I don’t have a hotel for tonight,” I tell her. “And if I bring Anna then I’d have to bring her back home.”

           “You said it yourself, you don’t have a room yet. So come with Anna, and then go back home.” She pauses. “Please? There’ll be cookies.”

           “How can I turn down cookies?”

           “Yes!” She cheers. “Exactly! I need to call Kim.”

           “I’ll text her and let her know we’re crashing the party,” I chuckle. “Y’all are lucky I love you.”

           “I knowww,” she coos. “But you and Anna will have fun.”

           “Okay,” I breathe. “We’ll come. I’ll let her know. And, hey Bri?”

           “Yeah?”

           “Alcohol?”

           “No alcohol tonight,” she says softly. “It’s family-friendly. Just some cookies and probably water or sodas.”

           I smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

           “Of course, honey,” she replies. “I’ll see you there.”

           “See you.”

           “Love you the most.”

           I grin at that. “Love you, Bri.”

 +++

When I tell Anna about the pajama party, she practically throws herself at her phone to ask mom about it. And, of course, mom agrees, so thirty minutes later we’re throwing on pajamas and heading to the convention center.

           I text Kim to let her know we’re coming, and she replies by telling me her and Bri will be waiting for me in the lobby.

           I thought they were kidding. But when Anna and I walk in, Briana and Kim (along with their handlers) are waiting by the elevator for us. Thankfully Thursdays are small days because the only thing going on is this pajama party and some pre-registration.

           Bri throws herself into my arms when I see her, causing me to stumble a little before she picks me up, squealing into my ear.

           I giggle without being able to help it, squeezing her hard. “I missed you too!”

           I turn to Kim, who says, “I won’t pick you up, but get over here.”

           After our hugs are shared, we make our way back into the green room area for a while. There’s still at least half an hour before the pajama party is supposed to start (or rather, when Kim and Bri are supposed to walk in).

           We’re walking into the green room, Kim is teasing Anna about falling into the dark hole of the Supernatural fandom, and we’re all laughing. And then I see Rob.

           I haven’t seen him – or heard from him for that matter – in a year. I wasn’t expecting his mere appearance to stop me in my tracks, but here I am.

           He’s playing guitar. He’s the only one here, the band either not here yet or off somewhere. But if they are, that’s incredibly odd. Thursday nights are usually when they go explore the city (Rich usually tags along) and have dinner together. So for him to be alone in the green room, playing guitar, just…is weird.

           “Hey.” I feel a hand on my arm, dragging my attention back to Bri. “You okay?”

           I smile. “Yeah.”

           She gives me a look. “Okay…”

           I look past her to see Kim has Anna distracted for a moment. I grab Bri’s arm, leaning closer to whisper, “Is he okay?”

           She glances at Rob before looking back to me. “He…You can go ask him.”

           I nearly groan. “Really?”

           “He’s your friend.”

           “I don’t know…”

           She nudges my ribs. “Go. He’s missed you.”

           “Fine,” I breathe, glaring at her.

           I wasn’t planning on this at all. So I have absolutely nothing planned to say to him right now, but I guess I’m winging it.

           He doesn’t look at me, seemingly lost in his own world, until I pull out a chair and sit down in front of him. He finally looks up, his eyes going wide for a moment before he sits up, holding his guitar down on the floor.

           “Sarah?”

           I chuckle. “Surprise?” I tease. “How’ve you been?”

           He raises an eyebrow. “Good. How have you been?”

           If I’m not mistaken, he sounds seriously upset. But I can’t tell if I’m sensitive or not. “I’m…okay.”

           “Just okay?”

           “Are you ‘just good’?” I retort, moving to the edge of my seat. If he’s going to act this way, then I’m not going to entertain him.

           “Fine. I’ve been worried.”

           “About…?”

           “You!” He cries. “For Christ’s sake, did therapy mess you up so much that you’re shut off from thinking people care about you?”

           I blink. This is definitely not how I was expecting this conversation to go. “Um, therapy actually taught me to be stronger emotionally,” I pause. “Are you okay?”

           “Why do you keep asking?”

           “Okay, forgive me here,” I chuckle nervously, “I thought we were still friends. I just wanted to check on you. I thought it was weird that you were sitting here when you’re normally out with Rich and the band, so my bad.” I shake my head in disbelief. “If you don’t wanna tell me what’s up, then fine. I’ll leave you alone. Just…forget it. Jesus.” I move to stand, but he decides to speak.

           “You didn’t tell me.”

           I lean back in the chair. “Didn’t tell you what?” A lot has happened in the past year, so I’m going to need some elaboration here.

           “How bad it was.”

           Oh. “If we’re being fair, I didn’t tell anyone how bad it was.”

           His eyes move glance off to the side before giving me a tired look. “You told Briana.”

           “Because she drove me to rehab in the first place three years ago,” I admit. I feel my hands begin to clam up at the thought. “That doesn’t even matter. I only told her because she saw how bad it was.”

           “So, what? Just because I couldn’t tell means I didn’t deserve to know?”

           “I didn’t say that.”

           “I had to find out from some stupid damn pop culture website!”

           I had almost forgotten about the headline.

           Supernatural star, Sarah Williams, has reportedly checked into a rehabilitation facility as of last Monday.

           It was a riot when it first came out. Well, I heard it was. I had no clue. Briana handled it for me, thankfully, getting it taken down as soon as she could, but it was a little too late. I was staying away from social media anyway, while I was in rehab and when I got out. Thankfully, the cast of the show voiced their support and asked everyone to respect my privacy at this time. The fandom responded in their usual supportive and caring manner, listening to the cast.

           And then there’s Rob. Sitting here upset that I didn’t tell him. When the reality is: I didn’t tell anyone.

           “Look, you’re upset I didn’t tell you. I get it,” I breathe, shaking my head. “But that article was out of my control. And I wasn’t purposefully trying to attack you. Sure, some people knew I was leaving that con early to go see my therapist, but no one knew it was as bad as it was because I didn’t want anyone to know.” He’s staring at his hands. “I also didn’t know where we stood. We hadn’t spoken in weeks. You had a girlfriend who made you really happy. I didn’t want to ruin that.” I pause, standing from my chair. “You have a right to be upset, so I get it, but I’m still sorry if you felt like I was keeping you in the dark. I wasn’t trying to.”

           And on that note, I walk back to Briana, Kim, and Anna. Back to the laughter.

           Because if he doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t force him. And he obviously need space or something.

           Briana tugs on my arm. “You okay?”

           “Yeah,” I smile softly. His emotions are not something I can control. “I’m okay.” So I am not going to blame myself. And I refuse to let his outburst make me feel bad for getting the help I needed.

~~~

Tags: @itsfunnierin-enochian @sirraxa @shanghai88 @sherlockedtash88

#rob benedict #rob benedict x original female character #rob benedict x reader #rob benedict x you #those last two are lies #but they are there so people will find this story #briana buckmaster #kim rhodes #the original female character is sarah #anna is sarah's little sister #wayward pajama party #thursday night of the con

[freedom-shamrock]

Eyes That Know Me, Blinking Slowly

Also on AO3 This was inspired by @alouette-lulu‘s adorable Adrien & Plagg art

"I'm worried about you, kid," Plagg said as he settled into the indent in his soft pillow.

"It's just a bit of self-directed study," Adrien insisted as he logged the latest akuma into his database.  Since learning how to run analytics, he'd been recording everything he could in the hope it would lead them to Hawk Moth.  Chat had made a special visit to Alya when he had informational gaps from past attacks, and she'd been incredibly helpful.

"Hmph," Plagg grumbled.  "It would be better if someone else did that. Ask Turtle Boy to give it a go.  You have enough on your plate."

"So does he," Adrien pointed out.  He'd gladly taken on the mantle of Chat Noir, but he was pretty sure he would have declined if it had involved becoming the Guardain's apprentice.  There was so much to study, so much lore to acquire, and the responsibility went beyond merely protecting people and his own miraculous.  "He's my age, and he has Guardian studies on top of school and akuma attacks."

Plagg let out a tiny sniff.  "He can handle it.  He wouldn't have been chosen, otherwise."

It was unusual for Plagg to care enough to argue against one of Adrien's pursuits, unless it involved excessive time transformed or potentially delayed cheese deliveries.  "What's really bothering you about this?" he asked, tipping his head back so he could meet his kwami's eyes.

The tiny black cat looked away.  "I can't tell you who Hawk Moth is, just like I can't tell you who Ladybug or Turtle Boy are.  They have to reveal themselves before the magic will let me speak."

Plagg liked to tease and play, it wasn't in his nature to be so forthcoming.  That he was suggested this was one of the few times he was fully serious.  "Do you know who it is?" Adrien asked quietly.

Plagg shook his head.  "No, but I have theories."

"Which you can't share," Adrien prompted.

"Exactly." Plagg scowled at his front paws.  "I worry what it will do to you, how much it will hurt, if I'm right."

The realization hit Adrien suddenly.  "You're afraid I'll be akumatized.  That I'll end up on the wrong side before this is over."

Plagg wilted into his pillow, his silence all the confirmation Adrien needed.

Well that wasn't worrisome or anything.  He turned back to his monitor and thought for a moment.  "The Guardian, Master Fu, told me that we have the choice to accept or refuse an akuma when Hawk Moth sends us one. That he can't actually force it on anyone."

"True," Plagg agreed.  "But he targets those who are in a state where they're likely to accept."

Adrien nodded.  "I won't.  Not ever," he insisted twisting to face his kwami and leaning on his backrest.  "I can't imagine ever doing that to you, buddy.  Even if he got the ring, I fight for my Lady and for you.  I promise."

Plagg stared at him, his luminous green eyes seeming larger and softer than normal. Regular kitten eyes had nothing on the demigod of destruction's take on the look.

"Come on Plagg," he cajoled.  "You trust me, right?"

Plagg's eyelids slowly closed, obviously squinching tightly for a moment before slowly opening again.  Adrien felt his own eyes go wide before copying the slow blink.  He found his gaze briefly trapped by his kwami's before the tiny cat closed his eyes and curled into a tight ball.  While he was twisting back to his monitor Adrien froze.  Why did he do that, and what the hell was it?

Chat Noir bounded from one rooftop to the next, crossing streets from four stories up with the ease of a cat running a familiar chase.  

It hadn't started with the purring.  No, that was just when his denial died an embarrassing death in front of the love of his life.  Up until then he'd managed to keep the increasingly catlike tendencies from being apparent, a feat complicated by the fact that they seemed to be autonomic responses.  He had no control over the purring, the nuzzling, the stupid need to rub up against things.

It had started during their first face off with Stone Heart.  When he transformed, he'd felt very much like a boy in a costume suddenly granted superpowers.  Which, to be fair, was an accurate assessment.  He was more bold than golden child and Gabriel heir Adrien Agreste, but nothing had truly changed.  Watching Alya's old footage a few nights back, he was pretty sure he could see the exact moment he'd really become Chat Noir.  The moment when his kwami's nature first took hold of him.

Cataclysm.

After his first use of his ultimate, his running style changed.  Sure, he still went upright on two legs a lot of the time.  But when clambering over rooftops, climbing buildings, or scaling extra large akumas, he dropped to all fours and moved like a cat.  Long-term exposure to the miraculous or Plagg, or the frequent use of Cataclysm more firmly linked him to the cat-like nature of his miraculous.  He calculated he'd called on Cataclysm 332 times in the last three and a half years.  It provided plenty of opportunity for the cat to take hold.

He smoothly switched from cat-lope to personal catapult as he left the higher buildings in his approach of the Eiffel Tower, where he and Ladybug were meeting up tonight.  Because nights tended to be pretty quiet, they'd settled into a pattern of training twice a week and getting together for superhero klatch every other week.  Neither of them wanted too much caffeine this late, so they usually had dessert and tea or cocoa. Ladybug was on beverage duty tonight, while he brought pastries he'd picked up from Marinette's parents' patisserie after school.  The team mates they'd picked up a year into fighting Hawk Moth had training rotations with them and with each other.  But they didn't tend to interfere with this special time between Paris' original superheroes.

"Evening Chaton," Ladybug called, leaning over and waving to him in a way that would have been terrifying had she been anyone else.

"And a very fine evening it is," he agreed.  "But any evening I get to spend with my fair lady is beyond compare."  He felt the purr trying to push its way out of his chest, and he stubbornly tamped down on it.  Sure, she'd pull it out of him later, but he wanted to make her work for it.

Ladybug shook her head, smiling.  "Of course it is."  She tossed up her bandalore and swung to a beam they favored.  Two insulated cups peeked out from a black insulated bag she favored for these meetings. "I know it's not really the season for it yet," she said, "but I brought cocoa."

Dammit.  He pounded twice against his chest with the top of his fist, but it was too late.  The low rumble couldn't be mistaken or hidden.

She beamed at him. "I take it you approve."

He shrugged.  "Can't hide that from you.  Don't know why I bother trying."

Her laughter rang out, filling him with joy.  "Me either, Chaton.  You know I love your purr."

"It's not exactly convenient," he pointed out, settling down beside her, and taking the cup she offered.  "Sure it's stronger when I'm suited up, but I've caught myself doing it when I'm civie me.  How am I supposed to explain that to my friends?  My family?"  So far he'd been lucky that photo shoots and fashion shows weren't upsetting enough or fun enough to trigger the reflex.  Nino thought he was humming, when he caught it.  As the black cat, he couldn't rely on luck.  "I'm already a socially awkward weirdo.  I don't need more quirks."

"Sorry Kitty," she said, patting his shoulder.  "Tikki told me that the more cat traits you pick up, the better Chat Noir you are.  I guess it means you and Plagg are much more compatible, and work better together."  She sighed.  "And I get that it's tough to explain, but at least it's not gross."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued that she wouldn't meet his eyes.  "Spill, Bug.  What gross thing does Tikki have you doing?"

She set aside her cup and covered her face with both hands.  "Don't make me.  It's so embarrassing."

He laughed.  "Oh? And my needy kitty bit isn't?  You saw what happens when I get exposed to catnip," he pointed out.  His memory of the event was fuzzy, but thanks to Alya the Ladyblog had a high quality video featuring his blown pupils, excessive giggling, and his attempts to roll all over his spotted partner.

"I've recently developed a taste for bugs," she blurted, still hiding her face. "Cricket lollipops are a favorite."

Chat slapped a hand over his mouth as he stared at her.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and dropped her hands, meeting his wide eyes.  "I was in a flower shop the other day, and they had… a minor aphid infestation.  I managed to lick them off the stems of three carnations before I realized what I was doing."  She bit her lip.  "I can never go back to that shop again."

"I'm so relieved," he said, finally letting out his laughter.  "I've apparently picked up another cat trait."

"Surprise!" She giggled.  "Is it better or worse than purring?"

"Easier to hide," he admitted.  "But equally weird."

"Am I going to have to Google cat behavior and guess?" she asked, smirking at him as she flipped open her yo-yo and waved it at him.

He shook his head. "Depending on the source, it's cat for I love you or I trust you."

She stared at him, her eyes wide, and the cutest grin on her face.

Without fully meaning to, he slow blinked at her.

Proceed to Chapter Two >>>

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #my writing #alouette-lulu #mlflufffiction #Eyes That Know Me #fluff

[corvosdaughter]

How To Make A Basic Discord Chatbot For Absolute Beginners

(by an absolute beginner who spent a full day blundering around and somehow made a functioning chatbot. for @tiigre)

This is a guide on how to make a basic chatbot that functions like a Magic 8-ball i.e. picks a random response when called up on text chat. 

NOTE: This chatbot uses Python. This guide assumes you don’t have any programming experience, but to make the bot more complex you’ll have to read up on both Python and Discord’s Python API Documentation.

WHAT YOU NEED

- An admin user account on a computer with Windows.

- A Discord account which is an admin for a server (even a server purely for testing bots)

Video Reference (not mine): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6tBvQSXJ7I

PART 1: SETTING UP

STEP 1: Download the latest version (3.4+) of Python here (including IDLE) and install.

STEP 2: Download the Discord Python API here and unzip. Save the file in the same folder as the (installed) Python application.

STEP 3: Add Python to the PATH variable. (Note: the exact links may be a little different in versions of Windows that aren’t 10.)  This video is a very clear visual explanation but in simple text terms

- Open Control Panel, go into System and Security > System > Advanced System Settings > [Advanced tab if not already there] > Environment Variables 

- Click on the “Path” line in the top box, then click “Edit”. 

- If you haven’t already made a new path variable, “Edit” should open up a window with only one editable line- make sure there’s a semi-colon ; at the end of the location already there, as it separates entries. If “Edit” brings you to a larger window with a list of locations in the computer, click “New”.

- Open up File Explorer and find the location of your Python application. Copy this into the Edit window. Assuming you saved it in the default place, it should be something like

C:\Users\Username\AppData\Local\Programs\Python\Python36-32

- Save, then add another path that’s the same, except with \Scripts added to the end i.e.

C:\Users\Username\AppData\Local\Programs\Python\Python36-32\Scripts

- Click OK when you’re done. You can close all the windows you just used.

STEP 4: Open up Command Prompt on your computer (search for cmd) and install the Discord library by typing 

python -m pip install discord.py

or alternatively

python3 -m pip install -U discord.py

and hitting enter. You should be able to see it installing.

PART 2: WRITING THE BOT

This Bot is called with !talk, responding to a question if one is asked, or making another comment otherwise.

It functions by having numbers allocated to several quotes (split into comments and answers). The program determines if the caller has asked a question or not, and therefore whether it should respond with a comment or an answer. It then picks a number at random and returns the associated quote.

STEP 5: Open up IDLE and go to File>New. The following code will make a basic chatbot as described above (indentation matters!):

import discord from discord.ext import commands import random

bot = commands.Bot(command_prefix="!")

@bot.event async def on_ready():    print("Bot logged on: " + bot.user.name + "//" + bot.user.id)

@bot.command() async def talk(arg=“whatever”):    talkdict = {0: "Should we gather for whiskey and cigars tonight?",                1: "Damn, I need to pee.",                2: "Think you'll get your own squad after what happened last  night?",                3: "Things are bad. Could the city get any worse?"                }    answerdict = {0: "Indeed, I believe so.",                  1: "Blow off, choffer.",                  2: "Never doubt it.",                  3: "Chances are very good.",                  4: "Bug someone else."                  }    randomtalk = random.randrange(0, len(talkdict))    randomanswer = random.randrange(0, len(answerdict))    if arg and arg[-1] == "?":        await bot.say(answerdict[randomanswer])    else:        await bot.say(talkdict[randomtalk])

bot.run("{Token}")

Tweak/rewrite as needed and save, making sure it’s a Python file (.py). Like the Python API wrapper, it’s probably best to save this in the same folder as the Python program (which is the default location anyway).

Some explanations of what’s been written above (feel free to skip this section):

- First chunk: importing the modules you need for the bot to function.

- Second chunk (single line): setting the sign you want to call up the bot e.g. if you wanted your bot to respond to /talk instead of !talk, you’d replace the exclamation mark with a slash.

- Third chunk (@bot.event): defining what Command Prompt will say when you run the bot.

- Fourth chunk (@bot.command()): defining the actual thing you want your bot to do. In this case, “talk” is the function name and “arg” is the function’s argument i.e. the input. So, on discord with this bot running, !talk[space]argument would get a response from the bot. =“whatever” is setting a default for the argument so your code won’t fail if you have put no argument at all. If you want multiple functions, just add a second @bot.command() chunk with a different function name.

- Sub-chunks “talkdict” and “answerdict” both define a type of variable called a dictionary, which is more or less like an actual dictionary. They take the form of {key: value, secondkey: secondvalue}. Keys must be different from all others in the same dictionary. As this bot works by generating a random integer (the key) and spouting the assigned value, each key is a number and each value is what you want the bot to say, in quotes.

- Sub-chunks “randomtalk” and “randomanswer” both pick a random number between 0 (inclusive) and the number of entries in the dictionary (non-inclusive). So in this case, randomtalk can generate numbers 0, 1, 2 and 3 as there are 4 entries in talkdict.

- Sub-chunk beginning with “if” creates the condition for the bot to pick a line from answerdict- presumably when the caller is asking a question. Due to the way Python works, a single argument is either one word, or several words within quotes. So you would get a line from answerdict if the call was 

!talk ? or !talk question? or !talk “question with many words?”

but not if the call was 

!talk question with many words?

- “Else” sub-chunk is fairly self-explanatory: if the argument is determined not to be a question according to the “if” condition, then a random line is chosen from the general “talkdict” dictionary.

- The final line will connect your bot to Discord, but don’t worry about what {Token} is yet as we’ll put that in in the next part.

- bot (all lowercase), arg, talk, talkdict, answerdict, randomtalk and randomanswer are all variables; that is, they are names that are assigned values. So, they can be named anything made up of letters and underscores and the code would work the same way, as long as you replaced (for example) every instance of “talkdict” with “blah”.

- Anything within quotes can be changed without causing a crash.

PART 3: RUNNING THE BOT IN DISCORD (LOCALLY)

STEP 6: Go to the Discord Developer site in your browser (link). Log in and click “My Apps” on the side if you aren’t there already.

STEP 7: Add new app, give your bot the name you want to be visible to others. You can optionally add a description and icon. Click “Create App”.

STEP 8: Click “Create a Bot User” and confirm your choice. Press “click to reveal” next to Token. Copy this token and paste it into your code where it says {Token} and save your file.

STEP 9: Save changes to your app (down the bottom). Scroll back up and copy the bot’s Client ID. In your browser, go to

https://discordapp.com/api/oauth2/authorize?client_id={ClientID}&scope=bot&permissions=0

(replacing {ClientID} with the actual ID, of course). Choose which server you want the bot to run on, then authorise. In the Discord server, you should now be able to see your bot as an offline user.

STEP 10: Run your .py file (with Command Prompt or opening with File Explorer, not editing in IDLE). A window should open, saying whatever you told the code to print in the @bot.event part. In Discord, you should see your bot pop online in the server and you can now chat with it as long as that window is open!

This local setup is great for testing your bot, as you can easily make changes to your code if it doesn’t work like you wanted- just edit your file in IDLE, save and run the bot again. However, a drawback is that people can only interact with your bot if your computer is currently running it. A conveniently free way to keep your bot running all the time is hosting it on Heroku. I have dedicated a second post to setting this up.

Please let me know how well this guide works (I wrote this a couple of weeks after making my first bot, so some of the installation steps in Part 1 may not be 100% correct). I’ll also do my best to answer any questions you have!

#discord #python #discord bot #mine