MOVED!!!

HERE I AM

[kulaybituin-archive]

MOVING TO A NEW ACCOUNT

felt like renewing my art blog. it got kinda messy here for me hh

for those who still wanna stick around despite my insanely spontaneous schedule or my unbearably varying content, here’s them link

https://builtintripping.tumblr.com/

[kulaybituin-archive]

did ya’ll miss the brawl era, aka the ‘roy discrimination’ era?

I know this has been done already, but i couldn’t resist. also inspired by @badcopworsecop‘s version

[kulaybituin-archive]

YouTube (HD w/ subs)

@bryan dechart, i’m callin you out. this is what happens when you assign a birthday to your own boyo lmaooo

Also so thrilled to have made my very first mv that dedicates to one lovely robo boyo~~ happy birthday to our dear connor!! huehue :,D

[kulaybituin-archive]

[kulaybituin-archive]

reverse au :)

[sad-1st-deactivated20200530]

“Last Minutes” a DBH short animatic

AAAAAAA ITS FINALLY HERE!!

Hope y'all like it~~ :‘3

Apps used: Powerdirector, Flipaclip

[kulaybituin-archive]

@sad-1st

i wasted 4 days of my life writing this shit, based on my initial misinterpretation that hank was still alive, but didn’t entertain connor the whole time hhhhhh this can be read as an au tho

“in only a couple of minutes, the fbi will show up a-and take my body away. dump it in the trash pile along with the rest of the deviants...” connor says, the programmed formal tone abandoned.

hank doesn’t utter a single word ever since connor returned with the message that he has been replaced despite the massive success of his mission that changed the world forever... for the worse.

he came to share his last words with hank, connor said.

(last words his ass, isn’t connor just gonna casually rise up from the death like some fucking god?)

if only hank preserved the last of his strength, he’ll throw the bloodied pump regulator, which connor removed from his system and rested on the table besides the picture frame, far away, out of the broken window, and drag the bleeding connor out as well, bellowing at him to stop fucking around like they’re long time buddies (because they never were, never have been) and fuck off.

but what’s done is done, and no violence hurled at connor can ever change that.

when he took a seat besides hank and waited for a reply that never came, connor said he regrets the grim outcomes, that his focus on his mission has made him forget everyone’s sentiment (that he turned a blind eye to the freedom the deviants were desperately fighting for).

throughout their time as supposed-partners, he always felt a deep connection between the both of them, connor said uncharacteristically.

they could have been friends, connor said, sounding regretful.

if only he made the right decisions, connor said, breath shuddering

but he wanted to redeem his unforgivable mistakes in the afterlife, connor said, sighing.

because hank was the one who made him feel alive, connor said, voice cracking.

how the hell can hank believe all that shit when connor’s been nothing but a machine, designed to accomplish, no, to die for the sake of accomplishing a task literally?

in every. fucking. given. chance.

(hank gave up counting the times he had to, in agony, watch connor bleed himself to death as his brain replays a familiar scene from long ago.)

if he’s falling for connor’s honeyed words, of all times why did he deviate on last minute? did some virus enter into his program uninvited? if only his system’s gone haywire sooner, then none of this shit would ever have happ-

ah, fuck it. does it even matter now? outside this dimly lit still house, the perfect image of what serenity looks like, androids are being treated and slaughtered like animals (monsters), its cause dying right next to him. there’s no way (no hope) to rewind all this unfortunate turn of events. end of story.

hank wants to believe all the lies connor has said tonight.

hank blinks his heavy eyes, and to his right, connor’s left hand hangs limply, blue blood clinging onto his fingers. no matter how often connor damages himself, not once did it fail to trigger his stomach to twist so hard he can’t breathe and violently force its content out of his bloody mouth, but not this time. he’s too weak to even move a muscle and react.

what a pity. hank even liked the rather cool and relaxing shade of his own eyes (even when its twinkling innocence and brightness faded since forever). maybe the fact that it’s also his favorite color intensifies the sickness of the ugly sight of connor’s blood.

but that’s okay. this is the last time he’ll see it anyway. it’ll never happen again.

(at least that’s what connor reassured.)

despair may have overpowered the rest of his other lingering emotions, but despite his drained mind and long lost will, curiosity somehow found its way around. a mocking choice since there’s nothing worth learning anymore.

it isn’t the hopeful kind. he’s just wondering...

what does it feel like to hold an android’s hand? is it as chilling as metal (and connor’s ‘former’ unsympathetic self) that bites off your skin?

or is it as warm as cole’s?

wordlessly, hank reaches out and gently wraps his aged fingers around connor’s stained palm, the one capable of a thousand ways to murder. connor flinches the moment their skins brushed each other, but he doesn’t jerk away. his freckled hand tenses when hank held it, unresponsive to the foreign gesture.

there isn’t much difference how hot (so androids do overheat like computers, huh?) and sticky their blood feels from its opposite hue, hank observes. pushing that detail aside, he must admit, cyberlife’s done a decent job replicating the natural soft touch and inviting body heat of mankind. although something about this seems off.

perhaps it’s simply because it is an android’s hand.

but that fact can probably be left ignored as long as the android is human.

another silence so deafening it can provoke someone to pull their hair out and drive somebody insane from the unbearable tension passed when connor clutches back hank’s veined hand, his synthetic skin giving way to expose the white chassis beneath. the fuck is he doing? there’s nothing for him to see, and even if they’re both the same species, there’s nothing to hide anymore.

not even if connor sneaks into his most personal of recalls. not even if he saw him.

but this part of the android language only means one more thing: according to connor, deviants connect each other when they gain one another’s trust, allowing the receiver to learn in the deepest depths of their partner’s memories what the giver won’t normally reveal such as their darkest past and disturbing secrets. this symbolizes the most intimate of android affection (love).

but hank isn’t even an android...

fuck.

if only hank isn’t so fucking broken to express anything, anything, he’ll break down right here, right now.

“hank...” connor hiccups as his mechanical hand trembles, his voice robotic behind the human sounding bit. he sucks in another deep shaky breath he doesn’t need, and then connor chuckles. shit. hank swears his scarred heart finally split and shattered into a million tiny shards, deeply gashing his insides, just from hearing the strained laugh.

it hurts.

“hank... i’d really hope to see you soon.”

and with that, the smaller hand holding his partner’s freezes.

hank remains stone still on his spot. he takes the time to sink in the information until the temperature of connor’s plastic hand eventually drops into icy cold, the answer hank dreaded when he initially wondered about android hands.

connor has deactivated. hank’s subconsciousness soothes him, nah. he’ll be back soon. i know another connor’s just lounging around the corner like some damn pussy. anytime now, he’s gonna barge in and destroy the mood as usual, but if everything connor told him is true, that he became obsolete, useless, then this must be really it. connor’s not coming back anymore. hank isn’t used to this.

connor has truly died...

cole...

that’s it.

hank takes the gun lying and inviting on the table with his free hand and points it on his temple. he’s not gonna fuck around this time. he’s no longer reconsidering. no more second chances and all that bullshit.

he’s ready.

without realizing it, hank chances a look on connor’s face for the first time that night. the first thing he notices is the tiny blank led neither swirling in calm blue, confused yellow, or glaring red. connor’s head is leaning towards hank, and his eyes are fluttered shut. both his cheeks glisten where tears once streamed, and a small warm smile lingers on connor’s sleeping face, seemingly oblivious of the unshed scarlet blood that’s about to burst and spill.

jesus fucking christ, connor isn’t even breathing anymore, yet this is the most human-looking hank has ever seen in him. he wants to bark his loudest laugh at how fucking majestic the irony is.

oh well.

(maybe connor's been confessing the truth after all.)

if what connor wondered is true, that if there is a heaven that also awaits and welcomes the unfortunate androids, where all kinds can live happily together, then hank’s infinite times more than glad to trade his shitty hellhole of a life for the eternal bliss the afterlife promises no matter how disgustingly cliché it sounds like even when he’s fully aware that humanity merely invented such concepts to tame their never-ending paranoia. hank just hopes connor won’t act like a bitch this time when he follows him there.

will connor’s smile remain in their dreams though?

there’s only one way to find out.

hank rests his head against the kid’s, and with one last squeeze on his son’s hand...

see ya soon, connor.

hank pulls the trigger-

[kulaybituin-archive]

honk

[kulaybituin-archive]

i didn’t know he’s bday’s on december

[kulaybituin-archive]

Smashers #31 and #38 are reunited ;w;

[kulaybituin-archive]

“Someone! Anyone! Please save us-”

What if in Ness’s final moment on the World of Light trailer, out of desperation he tries to pray in hopes of an actual miracle to happen, just like what Paula did in their final battle against Gygas…?

why do i do this to myself

[pixelated-perfectionist]

hey op fucking stop

[kulaybituin-archive]

i know this is insanely late but all these replies are killing me xxxDDD

glad to be of service on breaking all ur hearts :,)

[kulaybituin-archive]

“Someone! Anyone! Please save us-”

What if in Ness’s final moment on the World of Light trailer, out of desperation he tries to pray in hopes of an actual miracle to happen, just like what Paula did in their final battle against Gygas...?

why do i do this to myself

[kulaybituin-archive]

i’ve put too much effort on this

In all seriousness though let’s support the mom4 devs. They’re doing their best to give us the best game.

Kudos to you if you know mad magazine bcuz:

[kulaybituin-archive]

OMG this post is about one year old and im crying at the amount of notes throughout the year AVSKSNSBWLA THANK YOU EVERYONE!!! (but rly, respect mother 4, pls)

[kulaybituin-archive]

HYYH Drabbles - JM & TH (♥)

"Catch."

Jimin barely grasps the apple thrown at him.

Taehyung chuckles as he sits beside Jimin and bites his own apple. "Eat, ‘cause an apple a day keeps the doctor away."

Jimin hopes his light laughter masked his sinking feeling, because no, not even apples can prevent him from randomly having another seizure, then getting rushed to the hospital again.

“But what if you eat only noodles for the rest of the day?” Taehyung wonders.

“I won’t eat anything else then.”

Taehyung slaps Jimin’s back, who yelps. “Stop following your rabbit diet! That’s unhealthier!”

Jimin shrugs with a newfound smile.

happy bday, jiminie cricket <3

[kulaybituin-archive]

HYYH Drabbles - NJ & TH (♥)

Taehyung jolts awake when a pair of arms shoves him away. He blinks and slowly registers that a shocked Namjoon is lying besides him.

"W-what are you doing here!? You shouldn’t just crash in my house, then hug me to death in the middle of the night!”

Taehyung yawns like that’s the most normal thing to happen. He reaches to his side to grab a pack of lollipops. He holds it up and smiles. “Happy birthday, hyung!"

Namjoon gapes at him. After about an eternity, he chuckles and kisses Taehyung’s forehead. “Thank you, Tae, but don't do that again, okay?"

(happy birthday to our favorite duckling, nyoomjoon! <3)

[umuulan-na]

How is the Floyd angst and anon comic going along?

OK, let me clarify what the fuck’s been going on with me.

While I really appreciate that you share your ideas to me and I’m actually interested to draw it out for you all, I’m into something else rn.

I change fandoms so frequently, and I’m not the type to finish something once my interest of it lessens (which is a bad combo, i must admit) but that doesn’t mean i’m never into mother4 anymore. You’ll get what i mean

I’m just not here to just please everyone, but mostly myself. I post whatever i want, because i’m in charge of me, i follow what I really want.

But it’s my fault, yeah, for not warning you all about this change sooner. That’s why I want you to take the “frequent fandom switcher” on my art blog’s profile seriously from now on, if you don’t want to be disappointed when that time comes.

However, if you still hold on to me that I’ll draw it someday (trust me, i’m keeping those idea in my inbox forever. that’s how much i love it), you’re gonna need a lot of waiting for this. I’m totes cool if you wanna do it yourself though, which i think is even better since it’s your idea mixed with how you present it. Originality and all that.

TLDR: It’s in long hiatus, i’m just into something else rn. You can draw it yourself tho

[kulaybituin-archive]

while we’re at it, consider hiphop!jin coming home from the rain and shaking his head like the dog he is-

[kulaybituin-archive]

hip pop mons + @seiyoko​ and @salukiart​‘s mic drop rpg designs

i mean idk these dudes evolving into pop era seems interesting too (¯\_(ツ)_/¯) and im rly in love with that animation too, super epic and inspiring, i gotta say <3