#Death echo

[tsubaki94]

Wctober 16

Revenant/ Death Echo

[goodfish-bowl]

Transparent Echoes

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 16: Death Echoes

They're just nothing more than transparent echoes, but Danny couldn't help but watch as they milled mindlessly about.

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Master Post

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

@ectoberhaunt day 16. They say in Amity Park’s Cemetery, you can sometimes hear a girl’s singing. Often crying as well💔

the flowers by the grave are forget-me-nots.

What do u think? I’d love to know💖

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 16: Deah Echo

That fan idea that his ghostly wail is basically his dying screams sure inspired this one.

[ghostly-penumbra]

Ectoberhaunt 2023. Day Sixteen

"Death Echo"

Ao3

Warning: Gallows humour. Mentioned death.

- - -

“I think we should buy a new house and close down the basement.” Maddie said at supper.

“Is the afterimage of our son’s horrific death haunting you again, Mads?” Her husband asked.

“Mhm.”

“Can you pass me the butter, please?” Said son asked.

His mother did, giving him a sweet smile as well.

[demonsinmysoul5000]

[wingedflight]

Ectober: Death Echo

A part of the Paulina Phantom AU.

Paulina is working on her kicks at cheer practise when the feeling hits her. It starts slow, just a light tingle across the palm of her hand. She flexes her fingers and tries to ignore the sensation, but her next kick falters as the feeling suddenly ramps up. It’s not just a tingle in one hand now, but something closer to painful prickling all throughout her body. Paulina drops her foot, hissing as her nerves protest. Any movement, even so much as a twitch, releases a new wave of tingling pain.

“Paulina!” cries Star, rushing to her side, “Are you alright? What’s wrong?” 

But the worst of it is already passing. Paulina breathes out, long and slow, taking the time to shake off her fear. “Pulled a muscle,” she says, waving away the concern. “Give me a minute to stretch it out and I’ll be fine.” And as she crosses to the benches, she holds her head up high and doesn’t let anyone else see how shaken she still feels.

(“It’s an echo,” Ember will explain later. “Your mind is trying to make sense of the way you died by repeating it.” And as soon as she points this out, Paulina will understand the horrible rolling pins-and-needles sensation as her mind’s best replication of death by electrocution.)

👻👻👻👻

This October, @marzfartz and I have split the prompts between us with the intention of creating non-stop Paulina Phantom content! Check out the #paulina phantom au tag for more!

[darkeclipticheart]

Art fight attack 10 at deathecho and their OC Mez. Thank you again for the cute art of Nyu ^^

[phantasm-echo]

Cue Exit Music (for a Film) by Radiohead

RIP fives you will be dearly missed (whether you come back from the dead to become an inquisitor or not)

+ doodles to lighten the mood ig

[noxcheshire]

I am sick, dizzy, and can barely think but you know what would be WILD?

If the DC universe was an echo of Danny’s world. What if the continents of their planet shifted enough where Amity is now in New Jersey and had then become Gotham.

And when Danny died underneath the portal a part of his death fractured and imprinted itself into those various worlds. One of them being Gotham, where Danny’s home ironically used to be where Wayne Manor used to be.

So just imagine it, you’re coming back from patrol, grimy, sweaty, and with questionable intentions by dressing as an overgrown bat when suddenly the lights dim. It dims and brings darkness, only enough light to catch the beady marble eyes of the bats you fear.

And then electricity jumps in the middle of the room, flinging itself around like an agitated snake in wide open circles.

Everyone is backing away, some weary, some cursing, some just half way out of their own suit.

And then a child — barely as old as your youngest now, flickers to life before you, screaming and screaming, wailing in pain as the scent of burning flesh mingles into the air. You can see the boy, black hair and blue eyes that underneath the bright light that burns them is causing black to turn white, and blue to turn green.

The electricity crackles and when the boy is about the drop, limp, certainly lifeless, he vanishes as if nothing had ever been there.

But he comes back, he always comes back, in the moment of calm and in the moment of despair, echoing that painful wailing of death.

It’s so wrong.

It’s very, very wrong.

It didn’t even matter anymore why the boy showed up, only that this moment of pain continues to haunt the cave of heroes.

Continuously haunting, even as some whispered apologizes when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as some provided songs of comfort when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as stories of Gotham are told and promises (though uncertain and flimsy at best) are spoken to the wailing boy who always drops fast and disappears just as quickly.

Always, it was the same.

Until one day it wasn’t.

The electricity crackled like it always did. A spark, and then a calamity of light. And the boy would be there, uncurling himself into a tense position as he would wail.

But not this time.

Instead the boy curled himself in the air, calm as can be, almost as if he were sleeping. Even the electricity that they have learned to dance away from was calm, gentle, like ocean waves.

And when the electricity vanished, the boy did not, instead dropping to the floor where Dick was quick to catch him, grunting in preparation of weight only to show alarm at how thin the boy truly was.

On that face that has haunted them all for months is just a boy, sleeping, and scarred. A boy breathing very slow, slower than what they would like, but here in the physical realm with them.

Dick brushed back bangs of black hair, and slowly, ever so slowly, glazed blue eyes stared back.

[scatterbrainedbot]

cass, a professional: order of badass donbot, extra dramatic entrance!

me, nodding, banned from most kitchens: leo drama and angst, heard chef!

(shoutout to @somerandomdudelmao for yet again making feel emotions i cannot fully explain)

[bonefall]

Anyway. Bi and Mspec Lesbians aren't a hotly "debated" topic or even new to queer culture, it's just the newest thing that bullies who REALLY want to be homophobic and even racist use to justify harassing gay people they don't like.

It's the thinnest possible veneer of progressive language wrapped around TERF and reactionary rhetoric so that they can feel righteous for forming an angry mob against vulnerable targets. If you're gullible enough to fall for the newest wave of bigotry within the queer community, and turn on your allies because they're "confusing" or "invading your spaces," the SAME way they turned on bi/pan labels, trans people, xenogenders, neopronouns, and aroace people before this, then get lost.

[idontwikeit]

No, no, no… you've got it all wrong… you can't act death. The fact of it is nothing to do with seeing it happen - it's not gasps and blood and falling about - that isn't what makes it death. It's just a man failing to reappear, that's all - now you see him, now you don't that's the only thing that's real: here one minute and gone the next and never coming back - an exit, unobtrusive and unannounced, a disappearance gathering weight as it goes on, until, finally, it is heavy with death.

-Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead

for @annevbonny

[ghost-bxrd]

This one looks so silly right now but I gotta trust the process 💪😭🤣

[ominouspuff]

Gift-piece for @ghosts-of-rishi for some ideas we were playing around with. Fives discovering Echo is alive but possibly even more cursed than they already were.

They say there’s no good that can come from making deals with the Piper, but what Jango’s after is hardly what most people’d call ‘good’.

(Featuring Cursed!Jango, who went looking for a son in the wrong places, made a deal with a sea-god, double-crossed said sea-god, and now has three million cursed children.)

“Flesh and blood, you said,” the sea-witch taunted, gloated, condemned. And they are, they are — Jango’s split up, every bit of him, flesh and blood he never even had, divided between every blessed child — but no amount of clever carving of meat can account for a soul, and that’s the real curse. It is not Jango, not Jango alone, who is caged within the unnatural ribs and skull and pounding veins. “Watch them grow, fool; nurture them.” The sea-witch sentenced, and Jango does, he does; silently screaming, unable to separate himself from a single one, unable to sleep even when they sleep, too split up in too many inhuman ways to speak or think beyond wishing it was over… but they know he’s there, and speak to him sometimes. He can hear them cursing, over three million souls better left dead at the bottom of the seas, plucked and borrowed and wiped clean with new flesh sewn together. Why didn’t you leave us be? One is sobbing because he knows he should be dead and they say that’s as good as being at peace, and he is neither of those things.

His children are his spitting image, but they have old, old eyes and no memories of how they came to be that way, and there are three million of them — and not a soul that ever knew Jango Fett before — before — before — can explain it. He watches them all try through six million eyes.

[unsafescapewolf]

Accidentally went a little too hard on my thumbnail for my Death Road to Canada mod stream (that I may or may not ever get around to)