#Everything Has A Memory

[kitschky]

if i got a single office music dance experience my suffering at work would all be worth it !! (everyone go watch severance now, for me, your comrade)

[keferon]

Empurata!Prowl tries to actually communicate for the first time

What if he wants to say something but he can’t. What if he has no voice to speak, no face to emote, no hands to write. What if every attempt to communicate a message is essentially a puzzle of wit and creativity and yet, the first thing he goes through all these troubles for. Is to say “I love you”?

Don’t ask me how did they get in this room. I have no idea. They escaped the battlefield somehow haha

Next->

[valictini]

I’ve already said it, I’ll say it again, Mal du Pays is such a visceral and clever word to describe Siffrin’s Sadness. When I first saw it in game it genuinely made me pause like. Yes, it translates to homesickness. But it has the literal word for country in it. “Country sickness”. For a guy whose core problem is that his childhood, his culture, his country is missing. One could argue it’s a twisted pun. I’m obsessed with it.

[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.

[rika-mortis]

Headcanon: Deep down they both want to be their fairy godparent/godkid again after losing them, but don't believe they deserve each other and feel like they aren't worthy to be their companion anymore

They both need counseling and therapy as a whole package

[that-wildwolf]

hey, remember being 18 years old and playing mass effect for the first time and it's got this like intense aura of being very small and very insignificant in a very big, very empty galaxy? remember playing mass effect for the first time and everything all of this is so new and mysterious, and it's 2am and you're sitting in a dark room in the light from your tv and you're playing through feros for the first time and you feel that this is someting very old and very ancient and you are somewhere you shouldn't be and you don't know what's going to happen or where you're going but you keep on. there's a tingling in your stomach and you're playing mass effect for the first time. the thorian is a milennia old sentient plant being. the rachni queen is old and telepathic and a hive mind and in pain. sovereign is an ancient machine that has not been built but is, and has always been, and this is something so alien and so unlike and beyond anything your human mind can comprehend, and this is something unexplainable and huge and as uncaring and indifferent as the empty galaxy around you. you're playing mass effect for the first time and you're walking on the surface of an almost completely empty planet with nothing but your two companions silently walking beside you and everything is so huge and empty and silent and you're so small and insignificant and it's so beautiful and so scary and you feel like you are on a rollercoaster about to drop down. you are playing mass effect for the first time and you're playing the mission on the moon and you stop and just look up at earth visible in the sky. you know this. this is home. you are playing mass effect for the first time, and the galaxy is so big, and you are so tiny, and everything is about to change for you.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[soggedupfrog]

Homestuck kid designs in 2024

[rocketbirdie]

it looks and sounds just like you, but,

[achillean-knight]

Marluxia/Lauriam art dump MWAHAH

Finally time to share some of the stuff I was having alota fun drawing in my own time!!

Whiplash at the end to top this all off :33

[knickety]

Anaxa’s character stories all being in mediums that have already been destroyed has me climbing the WALLS. Cerces looking through his memories. A study record that no longer exists. An improvised speech that nobody would have written down. Another fragment of memory that nobody got to see. The complicated bits of his character and explanations for his goals and Why he is the way he is will fade away and he will be remembered largely as a performer and a blasphemer. How will they remember him when so little of him yet remains?

[divineandmajesticinone]

4 MINUTES (2024) I EP. 6 & EP. 7 "You're still afraid of dogs."

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

The look of almost childlike wonder in his eyes 🥹

See this right here is another major reason why a birthday theme like this is perfect for Sylus. It's literally healing his inner baby dragon, bringing back some of the innocence that was stripped away from him.

[waiting-foratrain]

> do you ever think about how scary remembering being alecto must have been for nona? because i think about that a lot.

(NONA THE NINTH SPOILERS) (this is mostly a post inspired by my personal experience and feelings so feel free to disagree. but also i Am correct)

dissociative amnesia is terrifying. just. full stop, point blank- as a concept, to experience, however- its terrifying. the idea that there’s something missing and half the time you don’t even know it’s gone? and then to remember? to slowly start remembering every horrible thing that happened to you? to be nona, remembering, and suddenly realise that you’re doing what everyone around you seems to have wanted you to do since you first opened your eyes, you’re remembering- only it isn’t helping, and instead, you’re realising that everything you thought you were was built on a fault line that only seems to keep growing with everything more you remember?

and then it’s nona, the girl who’s anger has only ever been treated gently and peacefully by the people who love her, who is determined to be good, to be helpful, suddenly having to remember so much unrestrained anger, so much pain? and the more she remembers, the more she becomes sure that all of that is what she is going to be left as when her time, and her life is up. of course that scared her. how could it not scare her?

i don’t think it was just the realisation of who she had been that was terrifying - it was the understanding that she was a makeshift person walking around in a world where (nearly) everyone else got to be wholly themselves for as long as their bodies lived- but she’d been on borrowed time her whole life, and suddenly she has a rapidly running out countdown.

further - dissociative amnesia isn’t just about the loss, it’s about the shape of the loss. it’s about the gaps in the narrative of your own life, gaps you can’t see because your mind has plastered over them, smoothed them out so seamlessly that you don’t even think to ask what’s missing. It’s about waking up one day and realising the foundation you’ve been standing on isn’t real, and worse, that the truth waiting underneath it might be so much worse than the not-knowing… and when those memories do start to surface, you don’t quite know what it is, but it feels like a betrayal- and you aren’t quite the same as you were before anymore (which happens on such a bigger scale with nona!!!! it’s so important to me, that in ntn, nona’s remembering is not celebrated. so often in media, i see people remembering memories lost to trauma related amnesia portrayed as a good thing, and every time i’m just sat there thinking ‘is it worth it? really?’)

like. just imagine you’re nona, for me. your mind kept those lost memories from you for a reason- it buried them because it thought you wouldn’t survive them, and maybe you won’t, but now, whether you’re ready or not, they’re coming back. they’re clawing their way up from a grave you didn’t even know was there, and you have to look them in the eye and reconcile the person they tell you you were with the person you fought to be.

for nona, remembering meant losing herself. she didn’t just gain alecto’s memories, she became alecto again. the life she had built, the life she had clung to, the love she had felt, all of it just unraveled beneath the weight of who she had been before. how could it not be terrifying?

to remember. to finally give in and remember what she’d been so determined to not, to finally know what you were missing - and have to realise that your fears weren’t unfounded. it is scary - because remembering doesn’t make you whole. sometimes, remembering just erases you instead.

[tea-cat-arts]

Hey, so the episode 5 preview-

Lin Ling??? Baby Lin Ling??? Lin Ling is that you or is that same face/ only one hairstyle syndrome???

[salarymanwaka]

Commission art I drew for Emi! Thank you so much for your request!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و comm info post