#Disembodied Laughter : crack

[who-is-muses]

[ doing some picking at Guy's doc and a vision came to me of what is extremely likely to happen the second Guy is properly and truly part of the roster ]

[ the Soranik floating around in my head is definitely watching intently ]

[once-was-muses]

Things Talbot Shithead Sinclair Grimes is:

A Wet Bitch

Fruitier than the produce aisle

Deeper in the closet than that pair of shoes you forgot about

Certified Gruncle

Tumblr Sexyman Material 😔

Not Irish

Definitely Not a Sir

Evil Kool-aid Man

[who-is-muses]

@1rstflight

Overheard in the office hallway between two older businessmen:

“Don’t you dare pull my shirt up, I have a meeting.”

[who-is-muses]

[ fighting for my life today (doing laundry + trying to make a grocery list) but please consider. Sinestro calls you a bitch. ]

[once-was-muses]

@corvidamned | Misc. Talbot Abuse Asks

He gently nudges Blight with the toe of his boot to wake.

The Talbot shaped lump jostles slightly with the nudge, letting out a muffled sound somewhere between a grunt and a snort. It will take more than that to make him move, evidently.

[g1rld1ary]

new release ; luke patterson x fem!reader

➻ synopsis: you'd been playing julie and the phantom's new album on repeat all day before luke comes knocking on your door, and you end up going to dinner with your favourite band

➻ word count: 2515

➻ content: she/her pronouns for reader

➻ wrote this on a whim tonight so enjoy my first luke fic lol !!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You tapped your fingers impatiently against your desk, willing Spotify to reload quicker, visualising the album you knew was dropping in two minutes. Finally, after 120 seconds that could have been an hour, Julie and the Phantom’s new album was out and available, and you actually might’ve been the first person to listen to it.

You’d been following Julie and the Phantoms since their very first performance was put on YouTube. Admittedly you’d been hopping on the bandwagon — your friends had been raving about it at school and force-fed you their songs, but you’d been genuinely addicted to their music ever since.

Pressing play on the new album you got up, leaving it to play as you began on your errands for the day. You danced around your apartment, putting away the washing and vacuuming and humming along to the singles that had already been released.

Luke was on his way home from his morning run when he could have sworn he could hear his own voice. Stopping, he pulled an earbud out of his ear, looking around for the source of the music. And there, on the third floor, was you. You were out on the balcony, organising the cute set of outdoor furniture you’d shoved in there and dancing ridiculously to Luke’s personal favourite song of the album. He let out a quiet laugh to himself, admiring the carefree way you jumped around, miming the chorus you’d learnt into a can of what appeared to be bug spray. He smiled once more before heading into the building, musing about the odds of having a Phantoms fan live on his floor.

Back up in his apartment he could still hear the music, both your open windows making it sound clear despite not being obnoxiously loud. Luke just shook his head, heading straight to the shower and turning on his own music so he didn’t have to be victim to his own voice all day.

An hour later, you were still listening. You’d just finished the album and evidently wanted to commit it to memory before the day was through. Luke thought it was adorable, and he could feel the gratitude flowing through every inch of him. This was why he wrote music, to resonate with people and make them happy. Plus, now that he knew the cute girl who’d just moved into the apartment opposite him liked his band, he figured he could build up some confidence to talk to you.

Morning turned to afternoon, and you were still playing his album. Luke was flattered, but in slight disbelief. He couldn’t believe you weren’t sick of it yet, though he supposed you didn’t get the same ick he did when listening to his voice. Hearing you learning the words was another bonus, your voice floating in through his kitchen window as he cooked. He thought it was lovely, though far from professional. It was an unreal experience hearing your disembodied voice stumbling through the lyrics, making up ones you’d evidently misheard and improvising your own riffs on top of Julie’s.

Luke wondered whether it was possible to develop a crush on someone based on just their voice. Yeah he thought you were cute the few times he’d seen you coming or going through his street facing window, but your laughter when your voice cracked had him weak in the knees.

When you were still playing his music by four o’clock — you’d branched out to mixing in the rest of their discography by then — he was a little worried for your sanity. Flattered and grateful for the streams, but concerned all the same. At the same time he was worried for himself. He’d offered to host his band and friends for a private celebration of the album release after the official party the night previous, and he thought it may be a little on the nose if you were still streaming their music into the night. He could already hear Alex making fun of him for living next to a fangirl (he did secretly hope you were a fangirl of him though).

So, whilst it wasn’t exactly the meet-cute he’d hoped for, Luke found himself knocking on your door. He knocked again shyly when he heard you turn down the volume, clearly trying to see if you’d heard right. A few soft footsteps on the other side of the door and it was cracking open, your curious expression greeting him. You’d only just moved in and didn’t know anyone to be visiting.

Luke watched you go through the seven stages of grief in real time. Confusion at an unexpected visitor, recognition of him, and then a million shades of humiliation as you realised you’d been listening to his music all day and he could hear. God, you probably looked like an obsessed fangirl (you were, but you didn’t want Luke Patterson to know that). With an embarrassed sound coming from the back of your throat, you asked Luke to give you twenty seconds of privacy. He agreed politely and you shut the door quickly. Slapping a hand to your mouth, you let out a silent scream, trying to let out all your anxious, embarrassed energy as quickly as possible, shaking your limbs about so you could stand still when you inevitably had to grovel for forgiveness to Luke.

Reopening your door, you were taken aback by how at ease Luke looked. And how much hotter he was in person, but you tried to push that thought to the back of your head for the sake of coherent conversation.

“Hi,” You said, resisting the urge to ramble out apologies.

“Hi,” He replied with that stupidly charming grin he wore in all his publicity shoots. “I’m Luke.”

“I know.” Fuck, you didn’t mean to say that. “Um, obviously. I’m sure you’ve heard all the…” You gestured inside to your apartment where his album was still playing quietly. You should’ve turned it off.

“Please don’t be embarrassed, it’s really cute.” Now your blush was for a totally different reason, your favourite singer was calling you cute? You had to be dreaming.

“Is there something I can do for you?” You asked, still unsure of the purpose of the visit, though you weren’t complaining.

“Oh!” Luke looked as if he really had forgotten why he’d come, but covered himself with an easy laugh, “I was just wondering if you could turn down your music a bit? It’s not too loud or anything, it’s not bothering me! It’s just, I’m having the band over tonight and as much as we’re all proud of the album, it feels a bit conceited to have it playing as we hang out privately, y’know?” You were nodding vigorously before he could finish his sentence, spilling out apologies for even playing it in the first place.

“Seriously don’t apologise,” He assured you, catching your eye in a way that made you feel like you couldn’t look away (not that you would’ve wanted to), “I really appreciate you being a fan and supporting us.” In that moment, entranced in his deep honey eyes, you honestly would have done whatever Luke Patterson asked of you, you were completely his. Maybe your parasocial relationships needed some examining.

Forcing yourself to end the moment despite your internal desires, you averted your eyes to the floor and Luke coughed slightly, both of you somewhat dazed.

“Right, well, it was really nice meeting you. Big fan. Guess I’ll see you around?” You said awkwardly, stepping back inside the threshold of your flat. Luke nodded in the same manner, and you were about to shut the door when he called for you to wait.

“Do you wanna come over later? You can meet the band, and it’s always helpful to make some friends in the building. I, uh, know you’re new here.” You nodded, more than surprised, but you sure as hell weren’t gonna turn down this opportunity.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. Thanks.” Luke named a time and you parted ways, neither of you catching the backwards glances you both chanced.

Inside your apartment was a whirlwind of stress. What did you wear for a dinner with your favourite band with an hour’s notice? You might’ve actually tried on half your wardrobe before deciding on your favourite jeans (maybe the ones that made your ass look impeccable, but who’s to say?) and a simple top. It wasn’t the most exciting outfit you could have come up with, not by a long shot, but you didn’t want to make a single wrong decision tonight. All you needed to do was be completely perfect and impress Julie and the Phantoms and maybe get Luke to like you back. Easy stuff.

By the time you were meant to be going you’d managed to do your makeup in a way that didn’t make you want to cry — why did it always turn out awful when you needed it to be good? Slipping your favourite hoops into your ears you were ready, and gave yourself a quick pep talk in the bathroom mirror. You’d never been one for those self-love affirmations, but they couldn’t hurt, right?

When Luke opened the door and his face broke into one of those smiles that lit up the building’s corridor, your nerves quieted themselves somewhat. He swept you under one of his arms leading you further into the apartment as if you’d been friends for years. You tried to take in what you could, and were a little jealous of how nicely his place was decorated — yours was still loaded with boxes and junk.

“Guys, meet my new friend!” Luke announced, and all the heads in the room snapped towards you.

“Um, hi,” You said meekly, remembering to tell them all your name.

“She’s new to the building and I thought it would be nice for her to make some friends!” You smiled internally — Luke had the same personality as in all the interviews you watched, which made you glad. You didn’t know what you would do if he wasn’t all that you imagined.

The night started out a little awkward, at least for you. You were so stressed about making a good impression that you felt a little robotic, answers calculated to try and get the most amount of laughs or agreements. Luke noticed this and gestured for you to take the seat between him and Julie when the meal was served, figuring you’d have the most in common with her, and he was more than happy to talk your ear off if the opportunity arose.

“So, why’d you come to California?” Julie asked, and you explained that you’d moved for school, but it was cheaper to rent the flat than live in the dorms. That in itself was an easy avenue into talking about your roommate who was never around and the classes you were taking this semester. When you asked about Nick, who was sitting on Julie’s other side, he happily joined the conversation to talk about how they got together just after the Phantoms began to get world famous and their (first) show at the Orpheum.

The dinner was loud and messy, and you began to feel right at home. With Reggie flicking beans at Alex, and Luke’s boisterous laughter ringing over conversation, there was a familial ambience to it all.

After the meal the group migrated towards the TV, and you found yourself next to Luke again, sandwiched between him and Willie, who introduced himself as Alex’s boyfriend. You recognised him from Alex’s Instagram, but you left that fact out. You found yourself making easy conversation with them, being the four who got Luke’s couch, whilst the others made themselves at home in armchairs and other seats scavenged from around the flat.

As you spoke to the couple about a restaurant in LA they were recommending, you felt a hand land on your thigh. A glance in his direction showed it was Luke’s, of course, but if his expression was anything to go by he was all but unaware, still speaking passionately to Nick about something. You tried to conceal your blush as your turned back to the gays, but the knowing looks had you hiding your face in your hands.

A movie was turned on and the chatter dulled somewhat, turned down to whispers over the dialogue. You didn’t know how you’d ended up cuddled up into Luke’s side, but you were absolutely not complaining. His arm on the back of the sofa had migrated to sitting around your waist at one point, and you were really hoping he couldn’t feel your racing heartbeat. An accidental glance in Julie’s direction showed her and Nick wiggling their eyebrows suggestively, to which you simply made a bewildered expression, hoping it conveyed how little idea you had of what was going on. Unbeknownst to you, Luke was fighting the same losing battle with the rest of the boys, who were making childish kissy faces when you weren’t looking. Luke handled it better than you, merely shrugging as if to say ‘she’s cute — what do you want me to do?’

A few hours later and the night was winding down. You took your leave after Reggie, not wanting to risk overstaying your welcome and jeopardising the friendships you hoped you were making. The remaining guests all gave you warm goodbyes, begging for you to come back again. Julie even swept you into a tight hug, making you promise you’d DM her to go out for coffee soon. Luke walked you to the door, a gentle hand on the small of your back not going unnoticed by his friends.

“Thanks for coming tonight, I’m really glad we met,” He said, and his shyer tone caught you off guard, but made you smile nonetheless.

“Thank you for inviting me,” You countered, “It was really sweet of you to introduce me to all your friends.” Luke waved it off like it was nothing, which you were sure to him it was.

“Can I see you again soon?” He asked, suddenly looking remarkably like a little puppy.

“I’m only a door away,” You grinned, “You can see me whenever you like. Hey, congrats again on the album. I’d say it’s pretty good.” When you pressed a kiss to his cheek and bade him goodnight, Luke couldn’t have resisted his cheesy grin if he’d tried.

“I love being a rockstar,” He said when he returned to his friends.

“Shut up, man,” Replied Alex, “You’re too whipped to claim any rockstar benefits on this one.”

[once-was-muses]

@the-arkham-librarian

[savviathan]

There is a warden in decked out.

Hypno knows this, partially, because he’s been to level three himself. He knows that wardens roam the catacombs of The Black Mines on every level, sniffing out his scent faster than any ravager ever has—even though his run to level three was short lived—and Hypno knows that because… well, it’s hard not to know things with his namesake. It was a bit of a stand off of senses, really.

But Hypno isn’t talking about those wardens. He’s talking about the one that’s everywhere, and effectively, nowhere all at once. He’s talking about the one he’s heard humming in the shop. He’s talking about the one growling in the crypt. He’s talking about the heartbeat, identical to the thu-thud of Decked Out’s, in the spider’s den and the pirate ship. He’s talking about the sniffling sound, and something akin to a chuff, as he rides the minecart into the dungeon.

Indeed, there is a warden in Decked Out’s walls.

Tango doesn’t seem to be aware of this fact. At least, Hypno thinks he isn’t. Despite the Deepfrost Citadel and Decked Out’s visible complexity and design, Tango’s general observation skills aren’t as cracked up as it seems.

He mentioned his concern to the guy a few days ago, just before phase one ended so it, theoretically, could be fixed before phase two. To ensure fairness, and all that jazz.

As Hypno turns a corner towards the River of Souls and hears the faint groan beneath his feet, he knows it wasn’t fixed. He hops over the hazard trapdoors all the same and bounds towards the stairs of the crypt—and comes face to face with a ravager. He turns around. Whatever. He’ll just go—

The compass flips directly back into the crypt. Darn it.

Deep from below (or left? or right? sometimes it feels like the sounds are right on top of him) a warden chuffs.

It sounds like laughter.

Just yesterday, Hypno asked some of the others in the waiting room—or, the daycare? is that what they were calling it now?—if they’d heard the warden in Decked Out’s walls. False had said she thought she heard one in the circular room towards the front of level one, but she might have confused it for a ravager instead. Gem said she definitely heard one in level two a few days ago. Etho said something about speculating it was some kind of secret regarding the fourth level, which Cub immediately shot down by saying that the distance between levels would be too far if they were to assume level four was below level three.

Scar said he had heard a very loud growling inside the shop. Something like warbling, half jumbled noises and speech that seemed to range between content and very, very irritated. Tango had told him it was a squirrel.

Grian had spun around on a dime and gave the most expressive face he could muster with only his two eyes as he yelled, “Why on earth would there be a squirrel in the dungeon, Scar!”

Good news, Scar no longer thinks it’s a squirrel. Also good news, from that conversation, Hypno had came to the conclusion that he was not, in fact, going crazy.

Bad news—Reckless Charge is played, Tango’s disembodied voice announces, and Hypno scrambles over a nearby shrieker only to trip face first into a dripstone stalagmite in his haste—now that he knows this thing really isn’t supposed to be here, it makes the irritated growling at least ten times worse every time he picks up his frost ember spoils.

Hypno slides into the next room and finds a key laying atop a pile of snow. He scoops it up, shakes his hand free of frozen powder, and turns back around.

Now that he’s thinking about it, Hypno really wishes he’d asked Scar when Tango had told him the warden noises in the shop had come from a squirrel. Having a timeline here would be extremely helpful. If Tango already knew there was a possibility of a loose warden and still lied to Scar… Well, of course, there was always the possibility Tango was just messing with the guy, but…

Hypno drops his key into the slot.

He furrows his brows. Well. That would be really weird.

It would be really weird, actually, because Tango was a game design perfectionist. He set out to make the best possible design and playability in a game known to man, and expected others to do the same. He expected everything to run smoothly, and would test and test and test some more until it would. Everyone knew that. Tango wouldn’t just purposefully leave a warden to wander around Decked Out.

Or maybe he couldn’t find it? Hypno purses his lips. That somehow seemed less likely. Tango knew the ins and outs of this game like nobody’s business. He was tangled up in its redstone guts for thirteen months, for god’s sakes.

So why…

It feels like a truck hits his abdomen.

Hypno yelps, startled out of his thoughts, and crawls back into the entryway of level two. He glares at the ravager, head poking through the doorway innocently. Hungrily. Hypno sighs and begins to stand back up.

Maybe he was putting too much thought into this whole “warden in Decked Out’s walls” thing. He couldn’t even hear it anymore, anyways.

But by god, he couldn’t help it if his head swam with all of the possibilities, the reasons, the details—the fact that the hermits knew it was there, and tango didn’t, and wasn’t that odd—the everything that came along with this game, and this particular unexplainable detail about it.

What a meticulous creation, to have something so uncared for.

Hypno dives into the water. He swerves out of the way of an incoming trident and rolls out onto land, dripping wet and breathing hard. He would have to ring out his bandana between these runs again. That was going to start becoming a hassle very soon. One he would have to endure, unfortunately. God forbid he take off his bandana for a full run and accidentally see where every evoker was hiding in the floorboards.

There’s a key lying on the ground just in front of the dripstone caves. He rushes over to pick it up.

The door chimes. Hypno steps through and down into the darkened stairwell once more, half squatting, half tiptoeing, at the plateaus. Deep below, loud enough to shake the lantern’s flame on the shelf next to him, there is a wet warble of a warden.

It’s appropriately timed now, Hypno thinks, but it still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up all the same. The warden is loud now, louder than when it was in the walls, and the floor, and in front of him. It’s almost like being suffocated, the sound bounces off the walls and into his eardrums and makes it sound like it’s on top of him, or just behind him, or—

Or everywhere, and nowhere all at once. In the shop, in the dungeon, in the walls. Always present, never visible.

Following.

Hypno freezes in the entryway to the Black Mines. There is a warden in decked out. Two, actually, but that second one is of nowhere near his concern as he looks directly into the spot where this warden’s eyes would be, no more than ten feet away from him.

The darkness pulses around him. Hypno takes a step back, hand searching for the stairwell’s walls and missing, waving at air instead. The warden growls.

Darkness floods Hypno’s vision. It pulses around him, wanes, and Hypno reaches back for the stairwells walls. His hand misses. The warden wails. It bounds off of the walls, reverberates as a horrible shriek. The walls are nowhere to be seen, and the sculk at his feet hums as it reaches closer for his skin, thrumming and shrieking to the same tune. Hypno scrapes his hands on the ground as he falls, staring at black, then blue, and then black, and Hypno sees robes as his eyes widen, darkened and silk in texture with snowflakes embroidered into the seams, and blue, and black, and blue eyes where they shouldn’t be, and the heartbeat is deafening now, he can see it pulse through the warden’s chest as it howls and its chest opens, and Hypno thinks he sees his face in one of the souls it carries there, and black robes, and blue eyes, and a darkened hood, and a cackling laugh, and Hypno screams as the warden blasts his head clean off.

He shoots up in bed. There’s sweat on his forehead. The voices outside call his name. Hypno breathes hard, and sits there, and puts his hands in his hair.

There is a warden in Decked Out’s walls. As Hypno stares up at Tango, a nervous smile on his face, he realizes, there always has been.

[buglvr24]

ok hear me out on this one folks and let me know if i’m cooking

star trek tos episode that revolves around the trope “trapped in tv land”. something technobabbly happens (maybe similar to the musical episode of snw) and all the characters are placed in a sitcom universe, laugh track and all. none of them realize that anything is wrong as if they’ve lived in this sitcom world their entire lives.

kirk and spock are the unlikely roommates that end up becoming good friends (and even lovers??)

bones is the town doctor, with chapel as his nurse of course. he is often at kirk and spock’s house even though he doesn’t live there

kirk and spock have standard 60s office jobs. uhura is a trusty and speedy switchboard operator. rand is the fastest typist at the office. chekhov and sulu are hard workers, when they aren’t pulling sitcom hijinks (and roping in rand)

scotty is the local auto mechanic, but he can fix about anything.

bones is the first to notice that something seems off. this isn’t right and yet he can’t explain why. the disembodied canned laughter that was a normal part of everyday life has turned terrifying. his friends are worried about him but uhura confesses that she thinks something is wrong too.

the cracks are beginning to show more and more. has every building always had a black void replacing one of it’s walls?

bones and uhura are working tirelessly to figure out a way out. and yet bones almost has hesitations. spock and kirk are happy. they are living a lie. this life doesn’t fit them the way working on a starship does. but they are together in a way they’ve never been before. they are living the peaceful, domestic life they’ve never gotten the chance to live. no duty, no obligations to a ship and crew, no vulcan judgement.

bones knows that he has to get them out of there, but he still has a little guilt.

everyone is disoriented after the fact of course. they suddenly have the memories of their real lives back, combined with memories of a fake world and life.

kirk and spock know that they can’t just brush this experience off. things have changed between them, and they can’t ignore it forever. a part of them misses that simple life, where they only needed each other.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Hi, hello! I have an actual request this time, I know a real shocker. Anyways since I’ve been exploring a cookie with a seriously degrading mental health with a side order of depression and anxiety, I was wondering if you could write shadow milk cookie after being released. He sees a cookie he recognizes a cookie within the group. Reader would be either a beast like them that didn’t get sealed or a long lived cookie race that doesn’t look all to good. From an outside perspective they probably only look a little tired but to shadow milk the difference between how they used to be and now is striking. Would he think them pathetic or would he be concerned? Maybe help in his own way, up to you. Hope you have fun with the prompt see you.

so i may have gotten a bit too silly and wrote for GBC instead of the reader. yeah :P but anyways i hope you still enjoy!

(post writing comment : i think I may have accidentally strayed a bit from the prompt.)

Requested Prompts #35 - 💔

Their efforts hadn't been enough. It had seemed at first like the crack in the tree had been sealed, only for it to burst open again in a vortex of blue disembodied eyes and shadows. Butterscotch Cookie, or rather Golden Butter Cookie as she knew herself as, could only watch on as the shadows spread out of the void alongside his laughter. It almost taunted her, really. Because of her cowardice she'd been afraid to seek out the truth of what had happened to him. It was only due to Rosemary's encouragement that she was able to leave the Toy-Box. " Aaaah! Doesn't this fresh air just feel... divine!" She heard his voice echo, bracing herself alongside the others for him to make his entrance. She was sure that he'd make his entrance grand and boisterous, but what she didn't expect was for more shadow to rush out. It skittered across her vision, blotting out the faerie kingdom and Goldie Butter's comrades, leaving her alone in the darkness. She steeled herself, instinctively putting a hand over her concealed soul jam as she summoned a spear to the other. " Oho? I see that we have an extra special member here in our audience today!" His voice chirped, she could just feel his excitement through his tone. Almost like a cat waiting to pounce. And pounce he did, with a hand made of shadow grabbing and wrapping around her torso she was pulled further into the darkness. She was soon face to face with him once again, Shadow Milk Cookie. It was only him and herself that appeared to be illuminated in the darkness, likely illuminated from the light of their soul jam. Even still, it didn't make seeing him any less difficult in the emotional sense. She could feel everything she felt over the past few thousands of years beginning to bubble up, it felt like she was going to start sobbing from both grief and anger. And yet, she stays silent, only staring up at him with a dulled, weak glare. How could she blame him for abandoning her when he got sealed by the witches? Of course, she didn't know exactly when but... " Wow. Goldie, starlight, you look... terrible." He almost seems surprised, heck, maybe he even is. The hand sets her down unto the shadowy ground, it feels like it's made of solid liquid... Don't ask how that feels but it's similar to jelly I suppose. She brushes herself off, looking back up at him. " Anyone would after getting abandoned with no answers to their questions for thousands of years." She can see him recoil with a wince at her harsh words, making it rather clear that he feels remorse for at least this. He laid on his stomach, at least trying to get on her eye level. " Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to leave you like that." He apologized, Golden Butter scanned his face for any signs of deception... Even though she knew that there was likely none. " I didn't mean to go and get sealed, the witches took us by surprise!" He excused himself. " I heard." She began. " ... You should have known that they'd come for you all eventually." " I thought that they'd do it one by one!" He exclaimed. " I thought that, with all of us together... minus you of course I know you didn't want to drag yourself into our mess, that we could beat them!" Golden Butter waited for the 'but' that was soon to come. " But..." And there it was. " But you weren't, were you now?" She asked, tilting her head to the side a bit. He visibly deflated. " Nope, not at all." He sighed, resting his head in his arms. There was a beat of silence before that wild grin of his made it's way back into his face. " But now, we can make up for lost time!" He cheered, getting up onto his feet and grabbing Golden Butter Cookie from the shadow hand with a spin.

Soon, the spinning stopped. Leaving her a bit disoriented and grasping at Shadow Milk's hands to stabilize herself. " Oh I'm just so so so so so excited to finally get to talk with you again! I missed you so much Goldie!" He exclaimed, Golden Butter thought for a moment that if he wasn't holding her then he'd be bouncing on his feet. But then, another thought came to mind. " Shadow Milk Cookie," She began, her voice once again stern. " If I'm here... then what's going on with my frie-" She catches herself, " The other cookies I was with." " Oh, them. Well they wanted a fight sooooo.... I just gave them one of my puppets to play with! They aren't important anyways, what's important is you and me!" He chirped, he looked extremely excited... And Golden Butter doubted that she could get out of this easily... plus, she had also missed him.

[once-was-muses]

@dcwnthercbbithcle

two guys who sleep in each other’s arms at night because they’re both afraid the other will try kill them in their sleep

[who-is-muses]

Muses' Boop-ability Ratings

Antonio: 7/10. Very confused, and probably irritated, but is probably just going to pout about it or swear at you (before pouting about it.)

Artist: 1/10. No one can touch her without her OK and keep that hand.

Blight: -100/10. Like a rotten pumpkin, ew.

Bookworm: 6/10. Soft face, good for boop- but WILL complain at you for at least three hours if he doesn't vibe with it.

Candyman: 2/10. There's a chance he'll be too confused by the whole thing to even retaliate- but not a big one.

Claudette: 8/10. Even if she doesn't appreciate it, she's highly unlikely to perceive it as something to be upset about- and she has a very cute confused face.

Doctor: 4/10. He WILL boop back. Hard. With a couple hundred volts. Extra points cus some people are into that.

Dredge: -10000/10. Like a rotten pumpkin that pulls you into itself to assimilate into its physical form.

Goswin: 6/10. Very confused and a little irritated about the whole thing, but not about to get confrontational about it- but his head isn't well attached and is liable to fall off if you boop to hard.

Habeas Corpus: 3/10. Bony and pointy, covered in sharp scales. Also might turn you into dinner.

Ichor: -1000/10. Don't boop the highly acidic goop.

March Harriet: 8/10. Liable to be entertained by a surprise boop. Minus two points for A) being just as liable to return the boop and not stop, and B) the mind control tech and spiteful imagination she has on hand if she doesn't like it.

Rorschach: -100/10. Not a rotten pumpkin, but smells worse than one. And will probably give you tetanus when he inevitably bites you.

Saint Walker: 8/10. Finds it very endearing and is excited to participate. Just prepared to have the bongos played on the top of your head, he's very excitable.

Salaak: 4/10. Too many extra eyes that blend in with his scales, might accidentally poke one, and has an unfair advantage of four long arms to stop you. Points because it's always fun to bother him.

Scarecrow: -50/10. Not worth waking up in the sewers with a brand new, highly specific phobia.

Spirit: 5/10. She'll either hate it or think it's funny. Meaning you'll either lose that arm, or get a wee scoff.

Thoth: -10/10. Please try to keep your fingers.

Wraith: 7/10. The worst that might happen is getting smacked on reflex if you surprise him, or being hooked on a very tall tree branch by a piece of your clothes. He's not a fan, but probably the most tolerant killer.

[once-was-muses]

Philip is going to take one look at Chucky then prepare for launch btw

[turanga4]

For @hinnymicrofic Prompt 18: Stop WARNING IT IS SAD

Read here (but it's long-ish) or on Ao3.

It’s quiet behind him, but loud in his head. Harry remembers a time when he could slip away unnoticed, when the Burrow’s kitchen table rang with arguments and laughter. The voices now are low and tired—their exchanges, dull routines.

He needs to deal with a different set of words. Again and again they come to him, disembodied echoes, high and cold as they were that night, but heard now just by him.

You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself.

He shakes his head. It doesn’t help. The leaves have been fading on the trees in the distance, spring moving towards summer. More heat in the air. A bird is singing somewhere; the voice drowns it out.

You have permitted you have permitted

Harry blinks a few times quickly and looks around again. The Burrow’s mostly been restored, its wobbly gate set back on its hinges. Some things, though, were too broken to fix. There are other, smaller things where no one has bothered.  One window hangs cracked above the couch in the living room, with thin spidery lines like ice on a lake.

He should go back in: Mrs. Weasley might worry. He aches each time he thinks of her, because the watch that she gave him becomes the clock in his nightmares, and Fred’s hand is spinning as it tears into the ground. He’d stay outside forever if that would help, but it wouldn’t. Rather than face me yourself.

Harry’s fist clenches, still wrapped against his wand. “For fuck’s sake. I did face you. I killed you. You’re done.” 

The voice echoing inside of him laughs at him and shifts.

your friends

your friends

your friends to die

Hermione, glassy-eyed, staring at the kitchen floor when he crept downstairs in the hours before dawn. “It’s lunch time in Australia,” she whispered, turning away. Ron’s been looking constantly from face to face to face. George, cutting his hair and breaking two mirrors.

Then Colin’s mother, thanking him. Her warm ungloved hands, and how she let go of him mid sentence to dab at her eyes.  The casket, obscenely, was the same size as Remus's. But Remus, at least, had been a full-grown man. 

You have permitted you have permitted

He answers again then, just one word. He’s almost crying.

STOP.  

Harry isn’t sure if he said it out loud.  If it was a command, or a plea, or if it can even happen. The tree in front of him has just dropped three branches; he sees that before noticing that he’s not alone.

Ginny approaches and he realizes that it must have been out loud after all. “You hear him still, don’t you?”

Harry jerks his head back. She continues to step forward. 

“Even though he’s not speaking? Even though he’s dead? You hear him still, don’t you? You shouldn’t, but you do.”

She’s looking at him carefully. Not afraid, but something else.

“How do you know?”

Ginny draws herself up to her full height. Her eyes make his breath catch as her gaze locks with his. She raises one hand and ghosts it over his forehead.

Then seems to fall into herself, shrinking down. Her voice not her own, her eyes fixed on the dirt. They stand, facing each other, and there’s a promise of a future in the echoes of the past. He wants to hug her, to kiss her, to marry her, to heal with her. (They will do all of those things, some day. But not yet.)

Ginny’s picking at her thumbnail as he leans in to listen. 

“Funny the damage a silly little book can do, especially in the hands of a silly little girl.”

[abandoned-anemoia]

Fears Beyond Imagniation

☯ Pairing: platonic!Enhypen x gn!reader ☯ Genre: horror ☯ Word count: 2.4k ☯ Summary: You and your group of friends venture into an abandoned asylum in the middle of the woods, only to encounter a creature from your own nightmares. ☯ Warnings: small injuries, nightmares, a weird creature that isn't really described, powers?, brief mention of a ouija board? ☯ A/N: This is not that great, but I am kinda proud of it so... Happy Halloween! Please Let me know if I need to add any warnings! ☯Disclaimer: None of my work represents any of the idols included in any way. This is merely fictional and all based on my opinion as a joke! I have nothing against any of these idols and love them all dearly.

Please do not copy, translate, or post as your own!

The moon hangs low in the inky sky as you and your friends, Riki, Jungwon, Jay, and Jake, venture deep into the heart of the old abandoned asylum. The once imposing building is now a decaying monument to a bygone era, a place where legends whisper of the horrors that occurred within its walls.

As you explore the dark corridors, your flashlights cast eerie, shifting shadows. Riki, the adventurous one of the group, leads the way, grinning with bravado. Jake, ever the skeptic, tries to rationalize the strange sounds that echo through the halls. Jay clutches a worn Ouija board, eager to make contact with any lingering spirits, and Jungwon holds a collection of ghost-hunting gadgets.

With each creaking floorboard and every flickering light, the tension in the group grows. You, however, feel an unsettling sensation deep in your chest. You have always been more sensitive to the supernatural, but tonight, the presence you feel is overwhelming. Your friends tease you about your unease, but as you continue deeper into the asylum, inexplicable events begin to unfold. Objects levitate and crash to the ground, while disembodied whispers grow more persistent. The once steady beams of your flashlights flicker erratically, casting unsettling patterns on the cracked walls.

Just as you are about to tell your friends that you believe it is time to leave, you notice that someone is missing. Glancing around the area, you attempt to spot your missing friend, “Where is Jungwon?”

The group looks around, calling out into the darkness only to be answered with the empty echos of their own voices. Riki chuckles nervously, his voice quivering as he tries to brush off the strange occurrence, "Jungwon's probably playing some elaborate prank on us."

Jay, however, shakes his head, "Nah, no way. You know Jungwon can't stand being alone in this place. He's too scared to wander off by himself."

Your growing unease only deepens as you think about Jungwon. He is a skeptic like Jay, always trying to rationalize the supernatural, but a chicken none the less. Now, in this eerie asylum, he is nowhere to be seen. Your mind races through all the worst possibilities – what if he has encountered something truly malevolent, or what if he has fallen victim to the asylum's sinister history? A more rational part of your brain is telling you that he could be hurt by the crumbling infrastructure of the building instead of a silly ghost or monster, but your mind is in overdrive worrying about your friend.

The group's laughter and banter had quickly dissolved into anxious silence. Each flicker of the flashlights only seems to accentuate the creeping dread that fills the corridor. You can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong, and that the horror that is gradually manifesting around you is far from a mere prank. You need to find Jungwon and get out of here.

As you move deeper into the asylum, the group's anxiety continues to escalate. Then, suddenly, a blood-curdling scream echos through the dark, desolate hallways. Jungwon. Without a moment's hesitation, you and Jay bolt in the direction of the terrifying cry, your hearts pounding with fear.

When you finally round a corner and find Jungwon, he is pale and trembling, his eyes wide with horror.

"It was… it was a monster," he stammers, his voice barely audible, "I saw it, a grotesque, nightmarish creature that was beyond anything I could ever imagine."

Your heart sinks in your chest as Jungwon continues to describe the monster. You remember the horrific creature that has haunted your nightmares for years, the very creature you fear more than anything else. It has materialized within the asylum, and now your worst fears are no longer confined to your imagination.

When you turn to gather your friends, you realize that Jake and Riki are not behind you, getting separated from you when you and Jay ran to Jungwon. Your sudden concern for Jake and Riki drives you to turn back and find your missing friends. As you retrace your steps, you hear gut-wrenching sounds emanating from the direction where you had left Jake and Riki. Your mind races with terrible thoughts, fearing the worst for your friends.

Just as you are about to run back to attempt to rescue Jake and Riki, Jungwon's trembling hand clamps onto your shoulder, and his face contorts with pure horror. "No," he chokes out, pulling you back and dragging Jay with him, "We can't go back there. We can't. It's too late."

You desperately want to run to the aid of your friends, but Jungwon's sheer terror stops you in your tracks. The horrible sounds that echo from the darkness only add to your agony, leaving you torn between the safety of your two remaining friends and the terrifying fate of the others.

As you, Jay, and Jungwon sprint out of the asylum, terror fueling your every step, the woods ahead seem like a distant haven of safety. You push yourselves harder, branches snapping and leaves crunching underfoot as you race toward where the car is parked. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is the only thing that keeps you moving forward.

Just as you reach the car, Jay's eyes widen in shock. He points, and you turn to see Jake stumbling out of the building, his arms wrapped around Riki. Without thinking, you take off running toward your friends, fear racing through you, your heart pounding like a drum. Jungwon's scream for you to come back echos in your ears, but you refuse to stop.

As you reach Jake and Riki, you wrap your arm around Riki's waist, helping Jake rush him to the car. You glance back at the asylum, and your blood runs cold. The horrific monster from your recurring nightmares is making its way down the hall, the open doorway providing a perfect, nightmarish view of the creature.

You urge Jake to go faster, fear gnawing at you as Jay and Jungwon yell for you to hurry. You manage to get Riki into the car just in time, Jake quickly sliding in next to him, but you are left outside with the nightmarish entity closing in.

Face to face with your worst fear, you can feel the monster's fetid breath on your face, its malevolence palpable. The rancid smell makes you want to retch, but you hear Jake's voice from inside the safety of the car, "It's not real." With every ounce of your being, you repeat that mantra, whispering to yourself that the monster isn't real, that it can't hurt you.

As you open your eyes, the monstrous apparition slowly fades into thin air, leaving you standing there in the fading moonlight, trembling but unharmed. The car's engine roars to life, and Jay and Jungwon shout for you to get in, the horrors of the asylum still fresh in their minds, your escape from the nightmarish ordeal far from over.

As the car speeds away from the nightmarish asylum, you check over Riki, your hands gently grazing his skin, concern etched across your face. Riki leans his head on Jake's shoulder, still trembling from the ordeal. Your voice is soft and soothing as you ask, "What happened to you, Riki?"

Jake is quick to try to explain with urgency in his voice, "When we were running from the monster, Riki stepped on an broken floorboard. It snapped under his weight, and he crashed to the ground. He twisted his ankle and hit his head pretty hard." He glances over at Riki, who carefully nods in agreement.

"When I went to help him up, panicking as I watched that thing getting closer," Jake continues, "Riki said he didn't see the creature anymore. At first, I thought he had hit his head a little too hard, but… he seemed perfectly stable, so I believed him. I ignored the monster to focus on helping Riki, and it just… disappeared."

The story is baffling and unsettling, and it adds to the mystery of the night's horrifying events. You can't help but wonder if the monster is somehow linked to your own fears and anxieties, manifesting when you are at your most terrified and fading when you focus on helping your friends. The group had escaped the asylum, but you were left with more questions than answers as you continue driving, away from the haunted place that had become a living nightmare.

As the car speeds down the road, the atmosphere inside is heavy with the weight of the night's horrors. Jay, driving in somber silence, finally breaks it, "We should talk to the rest of our friends about what we saw tonight,"

Jungwon shakes his head, his skepticism diminished by your shared experience, "No one will believe us, Jay. It's pointless to try."

Jake, who has been carefully tending to Riki in the back seat, chimes in, "Our main concern right now should be getting Riki to a doctor."

A palpable unease settles in the car. It is you who finally speaks up, hesitating as you do, "That creature… I think it could be my fault." The car falls silent once more, the implications of your words sinking in.

Riki, despite his injuries, reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze, "We'll talk to the others about this. We'll figure it out together."

A few days later, your group gathers to meet with your friends Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Sunoo. Jungwon recounts the night's terrifying venture into the asylum, ending with your theory. Sunghoon brushes it off as mere paranoia, suggesting that you all had gotten too scared and imagined things. Heeseung, though more open to the idea, wants to understand the situation better. It is Sunoo who suggests going back to the asylum as a group to prove the veracity of your claims. Sunghoon, albeit reluctantly, agrees, noting that it will be a chance to determine whether your theory about your own fears becoming a reality have any merit.

The boys gather their things, and despite your and Jungwon’s fear of returning to the abandoned building, you join the others in the car. As the eight of you approach the asylum, with the sun slowly setting, fear once again grips your heart. The possibilities weigh heavily on your mind. If the monster is real, your friends could get hurt. If it isn't, they might be seen as delusional. And if it only becomes real through your imagination… well, that thought is almost too much to bear. You could be the reason your friends have suffered.

The group walks into the building, Jake leading the way to the spot where the floor had given way under Riki just a few days ago. You can't help but to tense as you move through the darkened hallways. Sunghoon, ever perceptive, notices your discomfort and places a reassuring hand on your back, silently urging you forward as you venture deeper into the asylum. The darkness seems to close in around you, and a foreboding feeling grows stronger with each step.

As the group gathers around the hole in the floorboard, panic churns in your stomach. A distant grinding noise resounds down the hall, causing all of you to turn and face the direction from which it emanated. Heeseung, in an attempt to dismiss everyone’s fears, nervously suggests, "It's probably just the wind moving a door or this old building settling."

But the noise repeats, and this time, it is followed by a menacing growl that sends shivers down your spines. In response, you instinctively step in front of your friends, determination in your eyes as you silently vow to protect them, despite your own fear.

Jungwon, gripping Sunoo's hand tightly, urges the group to leave. Sunoo tries to calm his anxious friend, reminding him that they need to stay and investigate your theory. Meanwhile, Heeseung reaches out to pull you away from the source of the noise, his concern for your well-being overriding his curiosity about what might be causing these eerie sounds.

The tension in the group is palpable, as you stand there in the dimly lit corridor, caught between the allure of discovering the truth and the overwhelming sense of dread that continues to surround you. The horrors of the asylum, whether real or imagined, hold you in its sinister grip.

As the horrifying creature from your nightmares slinks around the corner, Heeseung's grip on your arm tightens, and Sunghoon quickly steps beside you, turning you away from the approaching monstrosity. Jake's voice cuts through the tension, reminding you that he believes you can control the creature.

With a deep breath and determination, you try to convince yourself that this creature is a product of your imagination. As it creeps closer, the creature emits terrifying noises that sound as if they had come from the depths of hell. Sunghoon places his hands on your shoulders and urges you to focus on him alone, ignoring the monster entirely. You obey, and the nightmarish sounds begin to lower in intensity.

Sunghoon continues his reassuring pep talk, guiding you to face away from the monster and concentrate on your group of friends now standing in front o you. With one last deep breath, you declare that it is all in your imagination. The group of friends watch in amazement as the horrific creature begins to dissipate, cheering in unison when it finally disappears.

You all embrace in joy, relieved that the nightmare is over. However, the realization of your extraordinary ability sinks in. You can control reality, but it came with a heavy burden. The group knew that your unintentional manifestation of the monster had led to Riki's injuries and the trauma you all endured. You feel awful, tears welling up in your eyes as you apologize profusely to the group.

Riki quickly pulls you close and assures you that it isn't your fault, that you had no control over this newfound power. He then suggests that you all should leave before darkness falls completely.

As you exit the asylum, Sunoo lightens the mood by mentioning getting food and watching some funny movies to ease the tension of what you had just experienced. The group eagerly agrees, finding solace in the idea of returning to normalcy after the horrors of the night. You all made your way back home, united by the incredible and unsettling revelation that had brought you together.

[monochromefilms]

Idia’s Robotics

Inspired by Terry’s Taxidermy by Teddy Hyde

Summary: Idia rebuilds himself for his brother…. In a way that is unthinkable….

Tw:Gore, disembodiment, blood, Possibility of poor grammar, possibility of terribly written gore, self harm, Idia becomes a skin quilt, if there is anymore just place in comments.

Idia had tried rebuilding Ortho multiple times. Even as little as he was, he kept on rebuilding the brother he lost.

Even looking at the one now, trying out for VDC with a new voice, was not his brother. It will never be his brother.

This ortho will not be the same as the last ortho.

He needs to perfect it. Find the very same that he lost. Rebuild. Recreate. But his memories of his own are foggy.

So he writes. He codes. He creates. And just when Prtho is recharging…

He destroys.

Rebuilding Ortho once again, with the same memory. Don’t worry, no one will notice. Ortho is the same to them but will never be the same to Idia.

Ortho gives them the same smiles. The same joy filled laughter and voice. And Idia is reminded of him, but Ortho is not him. Not that Ortho that he wanted to build again. Not the Ortho that he needed with him. Not the Ortho to stop the rain from leaking in the house. Not enough to give him the idea that “It wasn’t his fault.” As he was told by his mother and father. Each part welded together perfectly. Rebuilding a new and shinier Ortho. Trying to get Ortho’s old self back. But no matter what, he can never get that Ortho back… Looking at the calendar, Ortho’s birthday is coming soon. He will have this body done by then.

But, what if he doesn’t. What if he didn’t? What if he wouldn’t?

If he can’t bring Ortho back to him, He’ll just find Ortho himself.

Orpheus saved his wife by going to the afterlife… so why can’t Idia save his brother like that? Perfect!

The clang of machinery. The clacks and clicks of the keyboard. The bright screens blinding. Work unfinished. How could it!? IDIA IS A GENIUS! Why hadn’t he gotten this idea before!?

Rebuild himself as a robot for his brother. He already finished building his body. He needs to build his own. An Idia 2.0.

He stands in the middle of the platform. With one click. One button. He would finish his plan. A simple promise. One click.

One press of a button.

The claws reached for him, through his skin.

He hadn’t numbed himself yet as the needles held him still. Digging through his ghostly pale skin. The metal bar muffling his yells of pain.

The claws digging out his guts. First came the intestines. Kidneys. Heart. Lungs. Ribs. Muscles.

The blood covering everything.

Splattering over his new body. Rebuilding and placing the organs inside. He hopes for Ortho to wake up from his charging station happy with his brother’s new body. His new self. Each claw made him cough blood. Each needle digging through his skin. Once he is reborn in his new body, he will finally be with the original Ortho.

His flesh stuffed into the robotic suit. His bones cracking and breaking.

His fiery hair dulling down as he lost consciousness.

The machine stopped. Malfunctioning as it ripped his jaw off. Only leaving a neck and spine. His head on the floors. He will bring his brother back to his body… he will… he knows it…

_________________________________________

A/n: Idia is one of my favorite characters. He is best boy. But… Terry’s Taxidermy.