#Static speaks misery

[mewtwobootleg]

btw, sorry I haven’t been drawing as much… it’s from the holidays, and because I fell off a tree a stabbed my hand into a rock… my good drawing hand😭😭💀

[luxaofhesperides]

Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.

He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.

....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.

The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.

Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen. 

He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart. 

One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment. 

They’ll never get to meet. 

Duke had never felt so alone before. 

He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours. 

But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again. 

So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.

No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.

Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.

And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…

Did it… grow? 

Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart. 

But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage. 

Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.

Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer. 

“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better. 

Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets. 

He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret. 

The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes. 

And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it. 

The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe. 

There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.

Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.

“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.

As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal. 

He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts. 

As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more. 

Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning. 

He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.

At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago. 

Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden. 

He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin. 

“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”

“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”

“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.

“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”

Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”

“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”

“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands. 

“Meet me out front in an hour then.” 

And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.

At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.

Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick. 

The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them. 

He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit. 

It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin. 

They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.

For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful. 

He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience. 

He should have known that normal means boring as hell.

As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.

Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was. 

Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails? 

Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.

Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him. 

Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot. 

No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.

They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him. 

Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.

In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.

Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.

“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”

“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.

“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”

“I think I need to sit down?”

He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.

“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”

“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”

“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”

His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”

What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?

“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”

“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”

“Dude.”

Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”

Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.

“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”

“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”

“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”

“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”

Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants. 

“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m guessing you like space?”

“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”

“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”

Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”

“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke. 

The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark. 

“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees. 

“Man, what a day.” 

Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.

“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”

“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”

“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”

“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”

Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”

“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”

He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!

Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny. 

Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen. 

And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.

He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark. 

Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.

[robin374]

𝔊𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔪𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 : Alastor x Reader, platonic

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: I AM SO SORRY I GOT TOO CARRIED AWAY SORRY

Months passed by and you found yourself to enjoy their company. Alastor happened to be very close to you, he had been alive at the same time as you! You both talked quite a lot about the old times, well, it was more Alastor talking to you while you nodded and added a comment or two to his monologue. One time, he managed to get you to smile. He felt really proud of himself, he didn't tell you yet, but he did recognize you. He couldn't forget his daughter's eyes after all those decades. It was painful for him to see you so broken. He felt angry. He knew that your mother didn't want you to exist, to be born, but he would strangely feel guilty if he killed you. Just if he had taken you before the nun opened the door, he would've raised you as his daughter. After talking to Charlie and Husk about it, he decided to tell the truth.

You were reading next to Sir Pentious, the egg boys were bothering you too much, so you were subtly kicking them with your feet. Alastor approached you and asked to talk with you privately. He had all planned in his mind. He started telling you about his past, about how he was a radio host. "And tell me, sweetheart, do you remember your parents' names? Maybe I knew them." He noticed the annoyed twitch you eyelid did when he indirectly mentioned himself. You had grown up just like him. "I never met them." You murmured, you didn't know why you were telling him that. "Not that you care." Now his smile almost broke. "Of course I care", he leaned down to your eye level and placed a hand on your shoulder. "You're my daughter, after all."

Impossible. You didn't hear what you just heard, right? The man that you always hated was in front of you. The man you promised to never talk to if you met him was one of your closests friends. You shoved his hand away, "It's a joke, right? You're not him. You're nicer, you protect me, you... You can't be him." He was still smiling, was this funny to him? Your broken voice was funny? Your tears were funny? Your betrayed gaze was funny? Absolutely not. "You wouldn't abandon me, Alastor. Please... Tell me that this is a joke." You started to step back from him, getting yourself more and more away as his words sunk in your skin.

"It's not a joke." His voice was broken as well, the sound of the radio static grew more, making you feel anxious. You felt betrayed. "Why?" You asked, it was the only thing you wanted to know. He didn't seem to catch it as his head tilted, "Why did you abandon me? Why didn't you kill me? Why did you leave to live a life full of misery and suffering? You don't know how much I suffered." You looked him in the eye, you were furious, you just gave up all the emotions you bottled up for decades. "I hated you and I hate you! You're just a liar," He stepped towards you and tried to speak, but you interrupted him, his ears curved downwards emphasizing his sadness. However, what hurt you most was his smile. That hypocrite was still smiling. "Get away from me," you stated your voice was rough, all those venomous words stabbed his heart. "You're a coward, do not talk to me ever again. You're not my father, I hate you." You turned around and walked away from him. "You should've had kill me, it would have made me happier."

Suddenly, he was human again. It was raining again and he was watching you cry in front of the church's door. Your mother had left a while ago, her statement of leaving you alone and not rescuing you was still echoing in his head. His clothes were wet, the rain stained his face as his tears mixed with the drops. Once in his life, he regretted his decisions. He should have rescued you. 

[thicctails]

I C R A V E more gbc au stuff: particularly with Bill: were the twins aware of Bill before gravity falls? what do they tell the twins about bill once they get there? how does bill and his parents even go about reconnecting?? I want to know more about the direct aftermath of the reunion. It's not hard to piece together Bill and Fords relationship from the journals: did they read into it the wrong direction or smth? Like Bill fucking traumatized Ford: Euclid and Scalene's estranged long lost son fucking severly traumatized and manipulated a realtive of their adoptive kids: there's gotta be more complex feelings there? Does Bill blame them for his medical trauma? do Scalene and Euclid regret that? did they have differing opinions on it back when? also like, now Bill is legit insane: what with him having been percieved insane or a ticking time bomb of insanity before how do they feel about that? do they have differeing opinions?????

FNSKJDFNSDKJ DSI C R A V E MORE FERERJSNJKFDNFKE

PLEASE FEED MEEEEE

Ask and ye shall r e c e i v e

Both Scalene and Euclid were under the impression that Bill died when Euclidea inevitably collapsed in on itself. They told Dipper and Mabel that they had a child, but never went into much detail, as it hurt too much to talk about.

(You can imagine how fucking gutted they were when they saw images of him all around the Shack. Journal 3 was just a big fat gob of salt in their open wounds)

Reconnecting for them is like a healing an infected wound: you have to cut out the rot, grit your teeth for the burn of cleaning it out, work to keep the infection away, and accept the fact that there will be a scar.

Bill is so fundamentally broken and mentally unwell that not even the Axolotl can really fix him. The best he can do is help Bill get to a point where he can begin again in a different form. But getting to that point is the real trouble. It's rotten work, a path laden with pain and suffering and hurt feelings, but it's the only option worth fighting for.

Scalene and Euclid feel immense guilt for the mistakes they made raising Bill. They allowed themselves to be pressured into trying to make their gifted son normal, and everyone they ever loved and then some ended up paying the price. Bill may have started the fire, but their misguided good intentions handed him the match.

Bill himself is a whirlwind of emotions. He is unexplainably relieved that his parents are alive, but that also means that he can no longer possess a false bravado and pretend he intentionally slaughtered his entire dimension. His past is red and blue and in his face, and the voices have only gotten louder since he saw his mother's heartbroken face. Not only that, but they have, in his eye, replaced him with two of the people destined to destroy him! They look at Shooting Star and Pinetree with all the fondness they used to look at him with, and it makes his insides burn.

They also are constantly setting off each other's triggers, like some kind of sick oroborus of trauma. Bill's powers often manifest as pyrokinesis, which isn't great when your parents are still living with the horrific injuries caused by said fire. On the other side of the coin, Euclid has been soothing the twins with gentle TV static since they were little, since his preferred method of manifestation is screen-based technology, (whereas Scalene prefers music and books) which has caused Bill to spiral into a violent panic attack more than once.

As for Ford... well, neither Cipher parent is fond of him, as i've stated, but while they don't know the entire story of how his and Bill's time together was, they know enough to know that it ended in violence and misery, and they are not so heartless that they do not feel pity for the man and disgust towards their son's actions. They make it very clear to their eldest, when they can stand to speak to each other, that he is to never possess another member of the Pines family.

He only breaks that promise once, though it was for a good reason. Gideon needed a good beat down, and Pine Tree was too hurt to make that jump without help.

[takeyourdailydoseofcyanide]

The Depiction of Static as a Metaphor for Madness (Franken Stein)

I both adore and appreciate the way in which Stein’s persistent struggling was depicted in the anime as an old radio playing nothing but static, and not only because it’s just so damn accurate to the actual experience.

To begin, the detail of the radio being so very clearly old represents his struggles not being new, having been something he’s been desperately attempting to repress, control, and manage for years upon years. The static, a sound typically considered fuzzy, annoying, and difficult to discern, perfectly represents the product of the never-ending war between both sides of oneself - the “mad” side that desperately wants to give in, for just giving up would be almost pleasurable, peaceful, and the side that desperately fights to hold onto any semblance of reason. It is a persistent and incessant, even downright incoherent fight - constant bickering that leads you to feel as though your head is stuffed full and ready to explode, leaving it to feel fuzzy and scrambled, making it difficult to even live. It is physically painful, and feels like static in your mind. For static is the same repeated sound over and over again, and as I said, indiscernible and incoherent, annoying - like the ruthless buzzing of a fly in your ear. It leaves you feeling like you’ll vomit up each and every one of your internal organs, it is complete and total misery.

The fact that he is covering his ears, trying to ignore and repress the static, is so fucking accurate and important. Just to live and continue to work day to day, one who experiences this (speaking particularly about psychosis and generally schizophrenia and my own personal experience here) must force it all down, ignore it the best you can until you make it home again, and find yourself alone. You aren’t allowed to suffer because then your work would suffer, you’d lose whatever life you had, you’d lose everything. Even if you are straight up catatonic, it seems as though you will always be bothered and interrupted by the outside world. Not to mention, confronting the war head on is not only terrifying and daunting but also almost impossible, at least so it seems. It’s like you have to choose a side. And when your head is all full up with the screaming match, you are left just wanting to cover your ears and hoping that it’ll all go away - you beg and plead for silence. A silence you may never get.

The fact that Marie managed to shut the noise up by telling Stein to accept himself as he is, to simply allow the fight to happen, to recognize that the war may never end but that they’d always be there for him as he fought it presents a much more hopeful image than I am, at least, used to seeing (again, speaking about psychosis and schizospec shit).

I could really go on about this, especially the noise and how nice of an idea it is to simply let go and be free, but I’ll save that all and go into further detail later.

[mini-leafster]

[ @blue-funny-plant ]

As soon as Pinior sad "No" the air felt.... static. Funny Blue Plant stood up a bit more as if at alert. Then the plant grabbed his main head as if there were something yelling. Ship looked to Maple, then to Coiny, then she stepped forward. Before she could reach the miserable behemoth he slowly took his hands from his head. Both middle and right heads looked at the left quizzically.

Then it spoke.

"H.. Hello. Wha-"

Leafior's voice came from it only to be interrupted by the primal screech of "GET OFF!" By BFP himself. He then started tugging in a blind panic at the aberrant consciousness invading his body, despite the fact that it was his own flesh. Ship ran over only to be bowled down by the tail of the beast. Coiny was panicking. His eyes darted back and forth until they came on a sharp piece of a car the freesmarters left behind.

With no time to think and no idea about how bad an idea this was, Coiny lugged the piece of metal over to the plant. She kept screaming how he could help, just listen! He swore it! The Plant grabbed the chunk of car and took it to the afflicted neck.

Ship was screaming. Leafior writhed in confusion. And then pain. At that moment Coiny realized how badly he screwed up. He started screaming that FBP needed to stop but her cries were ignored. Ship In a maternal wrath tried to grab the plant's tail only for her to catch a glimpse of Maple.

Maple was crying. She could not take what she was seeing. She'd been thrust into a reality where SHE of all people had become a singleton. There was no headspace to retreat to. No counterpart to share her burden. At this time she was trapped in a horrid reality with no exit. Ship gave a quick swear and ran to embrace Maple to shield her from the sight of one of the few people you could get her to admit she loved being torn from flesh by a makeshift knife.

Pinior finally felt her legs again. She had pins and needles as her fingers unclenched from their fists. The small bits of blood from her palms became nothing to the spray when Leafior was properly severed.

Sap, sticky and paint like spewed in an arc as the severed head writhed, silenced by lack of lungs but screaming still. Pinior had to save her fix this stop this anyway somehow make it end oh plastic! Make it stop!

The dying head had slowed considerably by the time Pinior got to the person who died in her arms just a day before. With a strong slam the severed neck skewered itself on her spike. She felt the plastic on her head pull from the sap melting and fusing to it. She couldn't feel her spike.

The sensation of air rushing into her head from a place it never should told her what happened. When she could finally piece together the tragedy. Pinior's legs quivered as she looked out over the carnage in front of her.

FBP was on his side crying in misery. His two remaining heads babbled incoherently to Coiny who could do nothing but comfort the bleeding plant. Occasionally he flinched as if an unheard voice started to speak. Eventually he cried out to it like a child to their mother.

Across the streaks of sap-made mud was ship. She wasn't even looking at the scene in front of her. Her one remaining eye was trained on Maple's. Ship gave her platitudes as Maple stared into Ship's eye. Maple looked shell shocked for the very first time Pinior had ever seen her. Her defenses and walls had collapsed in the moment.

And finally, the nail in the coffin was when Pinior looked up. She did it slow. It was a small prayer to tell her that the new weight on her head was not what she thought it was. That the soft breathing from above was not a monument to her mistakes. Instead a blue neck attached to an eyeless face leaned off the side of Pinior's rim as Leafior's new form adapted to its new host.

Pinior, despite everything, began to laugh.

If you were to ask Leafior what caused Pinior to snap that day she'd probably give you the answer (Only if Pinior wasn't listening) that it was all her fault.

The mass twisted and shaped until pulling itself under her point, drowning in the tinted metal.

It looked as if something was glowing under the thick sheet.

A bright yellow lure tucked itself over her point, bubbling and shifting into place. It glowed dimly, and stood firm. Blue markings washed over her face mocking scales.

... She couldn't help but keep laughing.

Her fault or not, she didn't feel alone anymore.

[cupcakeshakesnake]

[Portal 2 AU] What happens in the derelict chamber stays in the derelict chamber

AKA the thing I said was messed up but y’all told me to post anyway.

I hope this doesn’t affect your view on the AU as a whole because I still wanna keep that thing generally lighthearted.

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, abuse(sorta?)

---

"Mr. Johnson."

The man stopped in his tracks and turned around warily. Chell's footsteps grew further and further away ahead in the abandoned space, leaving the two staring at each other.

"I get a bad feeling whenever you call me that. What do you want?"

Instead of answering, a clawed robotic hand snatched him by the scruff of his neck.

Held in a death grip, he tried to meet the unblinking yellow gaze with his one good eye. GLaDOS reached with her other hand to gather the cables spilling from around the man's neck in one clasp.

"Finally doing me in, are you? Felt like doing the one thing I've been asking you to do?" he struggled as he spoke.

"No," was the quiet reply, "we need you alive. Yet. But I can make you suffer."

Then she yanked, with a jolt, then slowly with force, until the sound of ripping skin could be heard and a thick mess of even more cables intertwined with veins and viscera started to emerge inch by inch from the back of his neck like some eldritch spinal chord.

Along came a prolonged scream, sounding relatively human at first but soon distorting into something like amplified radio static.

It would not stop.

"I just remembered," GLaDOS spoke in a low voice, not caring that his screams drowned her out.

"She told you she didn't want this. Multiple times."

She pulled the cables a little harder.

"Your Caroline. You had security drag her out."

Blood started pooling around their feet.

.

Chell was some distance away when she decided it was too much for her ears. It was not the first time she had left the two alone and heard him scream - but enough was enough. She grimaced, walking back to see a rather grisly sight.

GLaDOS held Johnson's head to her chest with one hand, the other outstretched behind him with his cables; the man was scratching helplessly at his tormentor's chassis.

Chell put a hand to GLaDOS’ outstretched arm, silently but firmly.

Stop. I can't listen to this anymore.

The android looked at her without saying anything for a whole five seconds, then slowly lowered her arm. What was pulled out of Johnson's body was haphazardly pushed back in, somehow.

Chell looked at the man and noted how different he looked. When they first found him, he was dusty and deranged, but otherwise in good shape (so to speak).

Now, bloodstains covered his tattered clothes; the skin on one of his hands was burnt clean off, revealing charred metal underneath - GLaDOS had pressed it right into a Thermal Discouragement Beam at some point; his hair was a disheveled mess with patches of brown peeking out from under sticky blotches of dark red; and one eye was gouged out, leaving only a blinking yellow light sitting in its socket - a vaguely Terminator-like appearance.

Blood trickled from his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his ears, flowed freely from the crevices circling his neck. Chell turned away.

He deserved it.

.

The man's good eye seemed to glitch for a few moments before flickering back to its usual shape. Sparks flew from the other socket. He had stopped screaming, but was still held there, limply, out of breath (in a manner of speaking).

"Oh... Mr. Johnson..."

GLaDOS spoke unexpectedly, quietly.

His undamaged eye widened, dreading whatever would happen next -

And she pulled him into an embrace.

Cradling his shaking body, his face pressed to her chestplate - stained with blood, his blood - with both arms, she continued speaking in an almost pitying manner.

"Oh... you terrible, terrible person, what have you done to yourself."

He ruled this facility, once; now, in front of her was a broken - not even a man, not even a machine, a - thing. A tangled mess of cables and flesh, electricity and blood, misery and denial.

His trembling arms returned the rigid hug despite himself, wrapping around cold metal. His shoulders began to heave.

Broken dry sobs filled the decrepit chamber.

I think I'm going to get secondhand trauma from this, Chell thought, some yards away.

[just-french-me-up]

hey hi i'm buzzing with the need for dreamling fic recs if you would be so kind as to point me in your favorite direction pls pls pls

Oh friend, you asked and I shall ✨ deliver ✨

DREAMLING FIC RECS 🌻✨

of my misery make thy use by @qqueenofhades (Explicit - WIP - 129k so far - In Universe, but with some tweaks, Rescue fic) Dream is Roderick Burgess' prisoner, in all his silent, sullen, naked glory, and has given up on the thought of anyone ever helping him out of there. Even Hob Gadling. Especially Hob Gadling. In fact, he's quite sure the man never wants to speak to him ever again, regardless of his current predicament. A bummer, really, because he also happens to be married to him. (Listen that fic has slain me EVERY WHICH WAY, it has EVERYTHING, it will take you PLACES (literally), it's rewarding as fuck, has OCs to die for, just... just read it, ignore the WIP status, what's there is absolutely chef's kiss)

the unknown and static strange by @qqueenofhades (yes, again, listen, if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more bla bla bla) (Mature - WIP - 69K so far (nice) - Dubious AU status, Memento mets Academia, Modern day with a twist) Professor Robert Gadling, under cut rocking, weird dreams having, and trauma suffering, discovers a strange piece of undocumented art that seems to follow him everywhere he goes. The Regis Somnorum won't leave him alone, and as he tries to follow that thread, a whole mysterious tapestry unfolds, putting everything he knows, or thought he knew, into question. (This fic is a fucking delight, it's just KEEPS feeding you "oh shit" moments and suspense and revelations and the pacing just keeps you on the edge of your SEAT. Again, IGNORE the WIP status I BEG OF YOU, read it, devour it)

This Rough Magic by @avelera (Mature - WIP - 36k so far - Rescue fic with a twist) Hob Gadling never fancied himself a mage or a warlock, but dabbled enough in the occult to pick up a few tricks over the years, all in the hope to communicate with his Stranger. A stranger, he later discovers, who is trapped under Roderick The Fucking Magus Burgess's manor. Now, he may not be the best magic wielder there is.... but Burgess doesn't know that, does he? (There are some VERY clever things in this fic, everyone is written to a T, I love a fic where my loathing of Burgess can burn from the brightest flame and at the same time have him not like a cartoon villain but a full human being! Can't wait to see where that goes!)

if you just let me (have you, love you) by Lost_Elf (Explicit - 25k - Human AU - Adult Film Actors AU (I see you tumblr, restricting words these days, I see you) Both very prominent in their own niches of the Internet, Dom-BDSM-oriented Dream and Vanilla-centered Hob cross paths and plan what could be (or so their managers hope) the collab of the century. And they might learn a thing or two along the way. (Listen, I read this on a whim, I wasn't too into Human AUs at the time, I was up for some smut that day, and this fic is a LOT more wholesome than the subject lets on and really gripped me! Lots of very nice details in there! And also, you know.... smut)

by the minute by @issylra (Explicit - 11K - Human AU, Sex Phone Operator Dream) Dream has a bet with Desire : he has to manage a phone sex line for some time. He's not thrilled by it. Callers are... unimaginative and unoriginal, to say the least. Except one. He has a very nice voice. He's funny. And he sounds just about as lost as he is, in life. (The tags make it sound super raunchy but it's more about developping attraction through someone's voice and getting to know someone through the phone and falling in love and.... it's just lovely, it's very sweet, it's like a little blanket with a warm cup of tea, really)

Now I KNOW this is not what you EXPLICITELY asked for but.... dare I suggest..... something with an OC thrown in the mix? Cause that's just adding a fun player to the game, with added stakes, really!

as heart for heart, for loving me by @kittttycakes (hello darling) (Explicit - WIP but soon to be finished - 151k so far - Canon compliant - OT3 if there ever was one - How to polyamory, a guide for Dream of the Endless, a primordial being who needs to use his goddamn words) When Dream finds Hob at the New Inn, he's ready to open up a little. Be a friend. Be a little more than that, though he can't quite articulate it. The only issue with that is that Hob has a girlfriend. A live-in girlfriend. A very much serious girlfriend. Dream tries his darnest to hate her, and finds he can't quite bring himself to. (It's soft, it's lovely, it has angst, it has smut, it has fluff for days, it has developping relationships GALORE (plural) and it's just a nice read to switch up your rotation, cause the potential for situations is tripled now!)

[areyoudreaminof]

A Dreamer with No Stars: An Eris Vanserra Playlist

Eris snatched me right off the page. A cold, cruel, and calculating male from an elaborately macabre court. Then ever so slowly, we begin to see a male trapped in the web of his father, the only protector his mother has left, the deep seated regret he has over the loss of his youngest brother. Then there's his history with Mor. What happened in those woods? I agree with Eris that there is more to the story there. Cassian's last words to him, "I think you might even be a good male. You're just too much of a coward to act like one.” are on to something. He's not a coward, but rather someone stuck in a terrible situation having to fight for his survival. Eris Vanserra had dreams, but no stars to hear him.

I'd like to dedicate this one to my favorite Eris girlie, @ofduskanddreams, who gave me an amazing song for this playlist and for just being wonderful!

LISTEN HERE and follow me behind the cut for a lyrical deep dive!!

Who Are You, Really?-Mikky Ekko

So you feel entitled to a sense of control And make decisions that you think are your own You are a stranger here, why have you come? Why have you come, lift me higher, let me look at the sun Look at the sun and once I hear them clearly, say Who, who are you really? And where, where are you going? I've got nothing left to prove Cause I've got nothing left to lose See me bare my teeth for you Who, who are you?

Smoke and Mirrors-Gotye

You're a fraud and you know it But it's too good to throw it all away Anyone would do the same You've got 'em going And you're careful not to show it Sometimes you even fool yourself a bit It's like magic But it's always been a smoke and mirrors game Anyone would do the same

Mother, are you watching? Are you watching?

DLZ-TV on the Radio

This is beginning to feel like the long winded blues of the never This is beginning to feel like it's curling up slowly and finding a throat to choke This is beginning to feel like the long winded blues of the never Barely controlled locomotive consuming the picture and blowing the crows to smoke This is beginning to feel like the long winded blues of the never Static explosion devoted to crushing the broken and shoving their souls to ghost Eternalized, objectified You set your sights so high But this is beginning to feel like the bolt busted loose from the lever

Devil Devil-MILCK

Clever Devil, Devil How quickly they do sell their souls For the feast and the promise of gold But devil that won't be me Devil, Devil Bones of metal metal You torture saints with a single glance Make them think they ever stood a chance

The Stigma (Boys Don't Cry)- As It Is

You feel an emptiness inside How it sinks into your soul But it’s nothing you can’t hide Just forget about the hole beneath your skin That’s swallowing the best of you with it Don’t let them see you fall

The Day is Coming-My Morning Jacket

You need it, that's for sure You receive, but always want more Taken for granted This lifetime and what's up ahead But the day is coming The day is near The day is coming

Zephyrus-Bloc Party

Too many mirrors in this house And I don't like to see myself like this I'm becoming the man I used to be, I guess These walls could tell you a thing or two Things that you really don't want to know Lend me your eyes for your point of view Lend me your feet and I'll stand up for you

Enemy-Imagine Dragons

I wake up to the sounds of the silence that allows For my mind to run around, with my ear up to the ground I'm searchin' to behold the stories that are told When my back is to the world that was smilin' when I turned Tell you you're the greatest But once you turn, they hate us Oh, the misery Everybody wants to be my enemy Spare the sympathy Everybody wants to be my enemy

Lunacy-Swans

In the mind of no one Forming sun, forming love Break the chain, hide within Innocence, not innocent Innocent in no sense Eat the beast, keep him in Take the blame, speak the name

Tranquilize-The Killers

Always here, always on time Close call, was it love, or was it just easy? Money talks when people need shoes and socks Steady, boys, I'm thinking she needs me I was just sipping on something sweet I don't need political process I got this feeling that they're going to break down the door I got this feeling they they're going to come back for more See, I was thinking that I lost my mind But it's been getting to me all this time And it don't stop dragging me down

What Went Down-Foals

I buried my guilt in a pit in the sound With the rust and the vultures and the trash downtown So don't step to me, kid, you'll never be found Cause while you were sleeping, I took over your town When I see a man, I see a lion When I see a man, I see a liar You're the apple of my eye, of my eye, of my eye

Devil I Know-Allie X

I want to, wanna get free (Get free) But staying with you is easier, than leaving Feels like a holiday breeze when we go up But you bring me down to my knees when push comes to shove

I could pretend that I'm just praying now But I'm only on my knees I could scream, “Somebody help me out” But the wicked one is me

Blame-Bastille

Fall upon your knees, sing: "This is my body and soul here" Crawl and beg and plead, sing: "You've got the power and control" Don't pin it all on me Don't pin it all on me!

The Foundations of Decay-My Chemical Romance

See the man who stands upon the hill He dreams of all the battles won But fate had left its scars upon his face With all the damage they had done Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain Now, if your convictions were a passing faith May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays And as the vermin crawls We lay in the foundations of decay

You must fix your heart And you must build an altar where it swells When the storm it gains, and the sky it rains Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away And as you stumble through your last crusade Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?

The Angry River-The Hat & Father John Misty

The awful cost of all we've lost As we looked the other way We've paid the price of this cruel device Till we've nothing left to pay The river goes where the current flows The light we must destroy Events conspire to set afire The methods we employ These dead men walk on water Cold blood runs through their veins The angry river rises As we step into the rain

taglist: @ofduskanddreams, @krem-does-stuff , @krem-has-a-mess, @octobers-veryown, @melting-houses-of-gold, @velidewrites, @reverie-tales, @thesistersarcheron@ultadverb, @c-e-d-dreamer, @andrigyn, @foundress0fnothing, @vulpes-fennec ,@asnowfern,@mossytrashcan, @thelovelymadone, @the-lonelybarricade, @shadowriel, @separatist-apologist , @fieldofdaisiies, @stickyelectrons, @vanserrass, @panicatthenightcourt, @krem-does-stuff, @iftheshoef1tz, @damedechance, @headcanonheadcase, @cursebrkr, @andrigyn, @mossytrashcan, @thelovelymadone, @wilde-knight, @moonpatroclus, @stickyelectrons, @kataravimes-of-the-shire, @mossytrashcan, @sunshinebingo, @filthyglamdoll, @ablogofbipanic, @bagelfyre

[mewtwobootleg]

I have a tonnnnnn of drawings I can upload but I’m soooooo tired😢😢😢😭😭😭

[therandosfandos]

Sum: With Fry "dead", Bender only can think one thing, it's his fault, he needs to be punished.

@frenderbender09 @euforimorily

TW: self h@rm, ne@r de@th

"He was my best friend and now he's dead!"

Sobbing. Pure sobbing. Then a laugh.

"Nah! I'm just kidding, my pastor helped me through my grief"

No, he didn't.

***

The robot dug into his arm tube with a Philips screwdriver. Which painfully reminded him of his orange haired boyfriend. This has to be down though. It has to be.

Soon, a hole opened up, oozing out oil as compared to blood from a human. Benders voice box made a hitch. It hurt. He then grabs a connector from an electricity box, the ones you'd see used on cars and whatnot. He carefully clamps it onto his mechanical endoskeleton, including assorted lengths of wire that was poking out, clumping together in a ball formation.

But Bender hesitates. Then he shakes his head. No, he deserves this. He flips up the generator and painful amounts of electricity shot through him. He cried out in pain, his voice filled with static and misery. He hiccups and sobs.

Apparently, the rest of the crews heard his cries of agony and rushed over. They unhooked him from the generator and the robot feels tears streaming down his metal cheeks. It wasn't as long as he'd hoped it he. But it was absolutely worth it.

He had done other things to himself before this incident. Burning his metal exterior causing scorch marks and dents. Once again doing electricity. Smoking spark. More. Anything that could hurt him.

Hell, he even begged the robot devil to torture him.

It was his fault this happened. If he payed more attention. If he'd just looked at Fry, this wouldn't have...

A choked sob. Everything was blurry. A faint ringing in his head. Was the crew speaking to him? The voices were all muffled.

"...ender!", one had said faintly but Bender could barely make the rest of it out, he could barely even understand, "ook...me! Oh......go get...ssor!"

What was happening? He didn't know. He wanted to know. He wanted to understand. Usually, Fry would help him understand....Fry wasn't here. He'd never be again..and he's the one who caused it.

More tears and sobs. He dropped the screwdriver, it clanging on the floor. He sobs more. What's the point. He just wanted to be with his meatbag again. He didn't deserve to be but he wanted to.

It all went black.

***

When the bot came to, he was patched up and weak. He sat up, his joints aching from stress and anguish. He rubs at his arms. It was cold. "Oh thank God..", he hears a female voice speak.

Leela?

He turns around to face the purple haired mutant, his eyes gaining no light. Just dull. Avoid of emotion. Full of depression.

"What in the world were you doing!? What- what the hell were you even thinking!?", She yelled and the bending unit cringed. Her stern expression falls into pity. Concern. She hesitates before gently taking his hand into her own. "Bender... we're...worried"

The rest of the crew nods. They all were. The bot hadn't been the same since Oktoberfest. Bender looks at the floor, avoiding eye contact with the cyclops. "Punishment.", was the word he managed.

Her face rises into confusion, "punishment?"

"...I was punishing myself..", Bender hiccups, curling up to himself once again. "Because of what I did, it's my fault Fry died! It's my fault! Me, Bender! Mine,mine,mine!", the robot exclaimed like a bratty child before going back into crying.

The crew looks shocked and concerned. "...Bender...why would you punish yourself?", Amy urges, Bender hurt himself, for what!?

"...because I deserve to be punished!", Bender screams and collapses to the ground. He can't do this anymore. "I was...was...gonna punish myself...until...until I died..then maybe...maybe, I'll be with Fry again..."

"maybe I would be with my will to live again."

What was what Bender wanted to say, but he doesn't, only sobs. Everything was always his fucking fault. Always Bender. Who burned down the grocery store? Bender. Who robbed a place? Bender. Who hurt that poor innocent ducky? Bender. Who was insulting that child? Bender. Who was at fault for everything under the sun?

Bender.

Bender was. That's how it always was. This was no different. But this time, Bender can't take the pressure. He can't.

He feels himself wrapped in a hug. "I get it...I know, I miss him too...but you can't keep torturing yourself like this...please...let's get some alcohol in you and we'll go get some ice cream...maybe it'll take your mind off of it...", Leela suggests.

Bender sighs, but nods weakly and sniffling. It wouldn't take his mind off it, but it sure would probably make him feel slightly greater than he was feeling now. He wipes his tears away and takes her hand. The way a child takes his mother's hand. Leela smiles gently.

It didn't make it better.

***

Bender sobbed into his boyfriends arms. Nuzzling into that white t shirt and that red jacket. Feeling Fry's orange spiky but fluff filled hair. Touching the humans cheeks. Just making sure he was real. He was. The horizontal lines in Benders mouthplate moved in happy overwhelmed synth waves.

He nuzzles his faceplate against the humans nose and chuckles. The crew giving them their own personal space and observing from afar.

"I won't...I'll never look away from you again" Bender hiccups. Fry frowns slightly, "Bender, it was an accident, you didn't know", he says gently. "It's still my fault.", Bender states.

The orange haired man holds his metal boyfriend close. Cuddling up to him. "Oh baby...you thought it was your fault?..."

No response. Fry continues, "waffle, it wasn't...you couldn't have known..it's okay, I'm here now honey...", he kisses Benders forehead. The robot just choking on his cries. Fry can see the patched up injuries and his eyebrows raises in confusion. "Baby...what are these?"

Bender tenses and looks away. He decided to be truthful, for once in his life, "I was...hurting myself as a way of punishment...", he says guilt-ridden and trembling.

Fry connects his lips to Benders yellow grill and sparks of love fly between the two. He pulls back, "oh baby...". He says with worried eyes, they weren't angry, only sad. No disappointment. Just fright. "..it wasn't your fault...shh...I'm here...I'm right here, ill never leave my baby again...", the human says gently and kisses his little robots head again.

The rest of the day, the two rested on the couch of their apartment, cuddling and watching their signature show. Fry would have to keep a closer eye on his metal lover but that's okay. He's okay. Benders okay. It's all that mattered in the moment.

And in the moment, the two were completely content with life.

[verlaines-corner-archive]

“I love you.”

Stray moonlight streams in through an open window, your words settling in the air as the man beneath you - Kolya - stills. Everything pauses and then you hear his heartbeat falter, a slight skip before growing in intensity. It thumps against his chest, and subsequently your ear, as you both lay there.

Silent, until Kolya begins to laugh.

It starts out small, before it bubbles and spills over his lips in a way that could almost be called malicious. His chest shakes and heaves, his fingers flexing at your side; one second barely touching and the other threatening to break your skin. You don’t move, arms and body tensing as you lay there paralysed, like prey caught in the jaw of its predator. You suppose you are his prey, something that had been known to you since the start and yet it’s only now - at this very moment - that it clicks. Dread curls in your stomach, tugging at your intestines until you feel like you’re going to vomit, static clouding your mind.

And then you realise that it’s gone silent once more, and the dread churns as you feel slender fingers trail along your throat. Sluggish in pace, accompanied by the drag of nails along your trachea and you’re wishing he would put you out of your misery instead of toying with you. His hand, heavier than he intends it to be, rests on your throat, thumb moving under your chin and pushing.

Your head moves up and your thoughts scatter, mind turning blank as his eyes meet yours. Something about them disturbs you more than any crazed laughter ever could, a stark golden laced with such despair and joy that you can feel it drip from his eyes to yours. Kolya looks like a child about to cry, and yet he wears the same cheshire cat grin he always does. All teeth and flesh, teetering between fake and genuine.

His voice is off as he speaks, but you can’t place why.

“Are you scared darling? There’s no need! I’m not going to hurt you. No no, you don’t need to worry about that.”

He moves, body heavy as it contorts over you, pressing your own into the mattress. You’re caged in his arms, with tendrils of hair extending towards you until they block your view of the outside world. Just him and you and this space that’s closing between you both, his face moving closer and closer until his hot breath burns your mouth. His voice carries a poisonous tenderness to it.

“I’m going to free you instead.”

[kybercrystals94]

Unconventionally Easy

(Part 1)

By KyberCrystals94

Read on Ao3 here!

Whumptober 2023|Day 7|Prompt 7: Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Please don’t leave me!

Rated: T

Words: 1,459

Summary: A mission goes awry, leaving Tech and Echo trapped, and their brothers racing against time.

“I hate this planet,” Wrecker’s voice whines through the comm. “It’s too hot.”

“Say that one more time, I’ll shoot you to put you out of your misery,” comes Crosshair’s sympathetic response.

“I’ll shoot both of you if you don’t stop the unnecessary comm chatter.” Hunter’s threat is followed by a moment of blessed silence; however, Hunter breaks it with, “Tech, Echo, are you about done in there?”

Tech and Echo swap exasperated glances. Tech can’t actually see Echo’s facial expression because of the clone’s helmet, but his body language is read easily enough. The drop of his shoulders, the subtle tilt of his head. Tech chuckles. “It seems the heat is wearing down our brothers’ patience.”

“What patience?” Echo mutters back, but he picks up his comm to reply. “Just about, Sarge. Give us five more minutes.”

A meaningful pause. “Roger that. Take your time.”

“I can think of so many beautiful responses to that,” Echo tells Tech, “He’s setting me up.”

Tech starts another decoding program on his data pad as he grins. “More like setting Crosshair up.”

“Oh, I bet the man is biting through his tongue right now,” Echo agrees.

Jokes and teasing aside, the splicing duo did feel sympathy for their brothers having to work out in the heat while they had the benefit of working in a temperature-controlled room. Even the short distance they’d had to traverse from the Marauder to the control center had been suffocating, leaving their blacks damp under their armor from sweat and humidity.

“I thought our blacks were supposed to withstand extreme weather,” Echo says, making conversation while he works on sorting information through his scomp.

“Ideally, that would be the case; however, there is a limit to everything, I suppose.” Tech plugs a data stick into the console. “You may start the download whenever it is available.”

“Downloading now.”

“At this rate, we may be done in only two minutes,” Tech says.

“Life Day came early this year.”

Sweltering climate aside, this mission had proven to be unconventionally easy. Tech fights his impulse to make mention of it, not that he is in any way given to superstition. His brothers, on the other hand, are. He can just imagine the curses he’d receive from all four of them if he even utters a word about it. So, he keeps his mouth shut, even as his mind trundles through the statistical likelihood of their mission being completed without a single “hitch”, so to speak. It would be their first. Fascinating.

So enraptured is he in his own train of thought that he doesn’t notice the slight tremor beneath his boots until Echo asks, “Do you feel that?”

“Yes,” Tech says, clicking through the controls. “We haven’t tripped any alarms.” There is a noticeably gradual increase, and the floor begins to sway.

“Earthquake?”

Tech shakes his head, having already checked the planet’s environmental radars on his data pad. “I suggest we get out of here now.”

“I just finished the download,” Echo confirms with a nod, and Tech snatches the data stick out of the console, tucking it in his pocket.

Echo begins to speak into his comm as they stumble across the now aggressively shaking floor. “Something’s not right. We’re leaving the facility now. We will meet you --”

Tech isn’t sure if Echo even finishes his sentence, because the whole building begins to crumble around them in a roar of heat and explosions. The floor disappears and he is aware of the sensation of falling; then the sickening thud of landing, forcing the air from his lungs. Then there is nothing.

“Echo, come in! Tech?”

Static is the only response to the shared and private comm lines. Hunter growls, going back to the shared comm. “Crosshair, what do you see?”

“The building collapsed,” the sniper huffs. It sounds like he is actively running.

“More like imploded,” comes Wrecker’s assessment.

Hunter sensed as much, both through his enhancement and the literal rumble of the earth under him, although he can't see anything from where he was situated. He briefly debates if he should join Crosshair and Wrecker in running to the facility or go for the Marauder. He is equal distance from both; however, common sense quickly overrides his need to race bodily to his brothers’ aid. The Marauder will have scanners and medical supplies, which they will likely need.

“I’m going to retrieve the Marauder,” Hunter says, “Keep in touch and be aware of your surroundings.”

He waits until he gets two brief responses before he starts for the ship.

Echo can’t move. He’s enclosed. Trapped. Skako Minor. The Algorithm. CT-1409, CT-1409... He’s back in the stasis chamber, his mind, his memories, his thoughts being harvested as a weapon against his brothers. He tries to struggle, tries to rip himself free from his restraints. He can’t.

Trapped.

Captured.

CT-1409...

Panic burns his skin. The icy cool of a stasis chamber.

“No! Let me out!” he screams.

“Echo!”

The voice is familiar but safe. Not one of Techno Union’s scientists, not a captor.

A savior. A brother. A friend.

“Tech,” Echo sobs. “Help. Don’t leave me here. Please.”

There is silence, and Echo wonders if he imagined it. Tech isn’t here at all. He is alone. No one is here to save him. Alone. CT-1409. CT-1409...

But Tech’s voice breaks again through the emptiness. “I am not going anywhere, vod. We are going to be okay, Echo, but we must remain calm.”

Vod. The word finds purchase on the verge of his hysteria, anchoring him to reality. Not Skako Minor. Not the Algorithm. He’s Echo. He’s free. But he’s still trapped. Breathing still hurts.

“Where are we?” Echo asks, voice pressed thin and trembling.

“We were on a mission. A simple data extraction. The building we were in collapsed. We are currently trapped in the rubble; however, Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker are going to get us out. We will be alright.” Tech ticks off the facts of their situation like it’s simply a debriefing.

“Are you injured?” Echo asks, voice still wobbly. Focus on Tech. Focus on reality. Focus. Focus.

“Not critically,” Tech assures him. “You?”

“I’m pinned, can’t move,” Echo says. His throat hurts, trying to keep his voice steady.

“That is not ideal,” Tech admits, “but our brothers will have that remedied in short order.” He doesn’t sound as confident as his words.

But Echo agrees anyway. “Yeah.”

“Is your helmet still on?”

“Yes.”

“That is good. The air quality in here is incredibly low at the moment.”

Echo breathes a hollow burst of nervous laughter, the adrenaline still surging through his blood stream. “Never would’ve guessed.”

Tech chuckles. “I will say it is probably still cooler here than it is where the others are.”

“Lucky us,” Echo grumbles lightly.

It isn’t like Tech to make offhanded and useless comments. They always have a purpose. Distantly, Echo realizes the purpose is to keep him calm, to drag him from the spiral of panic. Thank the force it’s working.

“Our comms are down; however, our last location is known. And while we are not able to communicate with the others verbally, they should still be able to use the trackers to pinpoint where to find us in the destruction.”

Echo wants to ask how long Tech thinks they’ll be stuck down here; however, he probably won’t like the answer, and it won’t change the situation. Instead, he asks, “Why do you think the building exploded?”

“I speculate that it was a remote detonation. Perhaps it was planned to sabotage intruders such as ourselves, or they were hoping to destroy the information before we retrieved it, and we were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Is it safe for the others to try and get us out?” Echo asks, suddenly concerned for his squad mates on the other side of the rubble.

“Probably not,” Tech responds, “Although, we don’t really have a say in the matter, and I trust they can handle themselves without our supervision, surprising as that may be.”

“You know, it’s usually your plans that get us into trouble.”

“Untrue. It is our squad diverting from my plans that get us into trouble.”

“Maybe there’s a good reason we have to divert from your plans...”

Tech interrupts with a huff of annoyance. “I believe that this line of conversation is ineffective.”

Echo chuckles. “I believe that you know I’m right and are trying to end the discussion.”

“Agree to disagree,” Tech replies primly.

Despite being trapped, a sense of calm has come over Echo. He is with his brother; their other brothers are coming for them. They are going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.

Please let it be okay.

TBC

PART 2 NOW AVAILABLE HERE!

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil

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[luminouslotuses]

q!jaiden song dump………there’s a lot

anxieties (out of time) - the regrettes

what can i, what can i do? / can somebody give me a damn clue? / fear on my body like glue / can’t move, i can’t move, i can’t move / what can i, what can i say? / tellin’ myself that i’m okay / colors come after the rain

all of these anxieties / come over me, just let me breathe / are we just forever runnin’ out of time? / missin’ how it feels to really be alive / knock me down-down, up, back down / knock me down, i won’t back down

paint - the paper kites

this house has never been the same as before / it’s never felt warm, never felt warm / there’s something moving through the windows and walls / i’ve seen it before, seen it before / you left me living with a lingering soul / how little you know, how little you know

see where i am is where i’m wanting to be / i know what i need, know what i need / and there are many different places to see / i know how to dream, know how to dream / still there’s a wound and i’m moving slow / though it don’t show, though it don’t show

12345 - em beihold

and my neighbors’ screams are deafenin’ / so i’ve got the music blastin’ / feel the skin, the floor / the matches light the candle / hope it passes, smell the / one plant i can’t believe i kept alive / this must be what victory tastes like

instead of findin’ purpose / i could just sell insurance / or join a pyramid scheme / whatever the hell that means, oh / “you need a hug, are you alright?” / “nobody’s loved you much tonight” / only the mirror tells me i’m fine

before the line - dodie

i have an entire post on this one :]

not strong enough - boygenius

black hole opened in the kitchen / every clock’s a different time / it would only take the energy to fix it / i don’t know why i am

the way i am / not strong enough to be your man / i lied, i am / just lowering your expectations / half a mind that keeps the other second-guessing / close my eyes and count

there’s something in the static / i think i’ve been having revelations / coming to in the front seat, nearly empty / skip the exit to our old street and go home / go home alone

happy - mitski

happy came to visit me, he bought cookies on the way / i poured him tea, and he told me, “it’ll all be okay” / well, i told him i’d do anything to have him stay with me

i was in the bathroom, i didn’t hear him leave / i locked the door behind him, and i turned around to see / ooh, all the cookie wrappers and the empty cups of tea / well, i sighed and mumbled to myself, “again, i have to clean” / i sighed and mumbled to myself

and when you go, take this heart / i’ll make no more use of it when there’s no more you / and if you’re going, take the moon / then, maybe i will see you; in the night, i’ll see you

body and mind - girl in red

i’ve been in the deep end since i realized / there is a difference between body and mind / i’ve been at my lowest for the longest time / knowing my existence is not one of a kind

but i’ve had / my deepest cries for now / my heart’s out / my guard’s down

making the bed - olivia rodrigo

they’re changin’ my machinery, and i just let it happen / i got the things i wanted, it’s just not what i imagined

push away all the people who know me the best / but it’s me who’s been makin’ the bed / i’m so tired of being the girl that i am / every good thing has turned into something i dread / and i’m playin’ the victim so well in my head / but it’s me who’s been makin’ the bed

$20 - boygenius

pushing flowers that come up into the front of a shotgun / so many hills to die on

(take a break, make your escape) / gas, out of time, out of money / you’re doing what you can, just makin’ it run / (there’s only so much i can)

wait on me, i’m not ready / i still have to change, have to change, have to change

snow angel - reneé rapp

first to arrive, last to leave / what’s misery without company? / it’s hard to laugh when it’s hard to breathe

smiles hide what secrets keep / can’t tell a lie if you never speak / look in the mirror, she looks like me / but half-alive and twice as weak

if it kills me, i tried / if it kills me, i

[ase-trollplays]

==> Corali: Check your phone

(Arriak belongs to @cloudbattrolls )

It was mid evening now, and Arriak just left not too long ago after doing a welfare check on you. Although he didn't know the recent stress you've been under, not hearing from you or seeing you at your job was enough to set off red flags in his mind and force him to follow up on your sudden disappearance. The look on his face when he saw the deep bags under your eyes, the light gone from your exhausted expression, the disarray of your hair, and the nights-old rumpled and stained clothes you were wearing would have broken your heart if it hadn't been so thoroughly demolished already. He didn't give you the option of turning him away.

You told him everything about the stalker, Thiomi's likely kidnapping, the loss of your job, and the subsequent relapse when the stress became too hard for you to bear anymore. You clenched your fists tightly enough for your nails to puncture your palm and bit your lip until you drew blood as you forced yourself not to cry in front of him. What little stubborn pride you had left in you forbade such a show of weakness. You would allow yourself release only when you were alone, and you were quick -- Perhaps a little too quick, not to mention sharp -- to silence him when he attempted to coax you into letting out your very obvious stress. You should have apologized when he flinched at your harsh refusal.

You should have, but you didn't. Stubborn as ever even in the midst of your anxiety at the worst it's ever been since you were five and being subjected to enslavement and constant abuse.

At the very least, he did you the kindness of confiscating what little of your alcohol you hadn't consumed. Which you thanked him for only to snap at him even more aggressively when he offered to help with your situation somehow and demanded he leave you to your misery. As if there was anything he can possibly do to un-fire you from your job and un-kidnap your would-be moirail and make you un-relapse. Any protest quickly died when you ejected the retractable blade from the back of your cybernetic arm and gave him a glare that could curdle milk.

You should have apologized for that, too, but you didn't.

After he left, you blew off steam by beating your punching bag in the garage until you had no strength left in you. You didn't have a choice. If you didn't completely deplete every ounce of anxious energy you had, you would have started throwing and breaking things.

By the time you thought to check your phone, the newest text message was fifteen minutes old. It's from Thiomi. You couldn't open the message fast enough. It was a video, but the thumbnail was a little bit blurry. It looked like the camera was facing Thiomi and someone else, which was odd, but you were just relieved to finally hear from her.

That relief immediately vanished when you watch the video.

With every word the disguised troll said, every cut made on Thiomi's body -- The poor girl was stripped of her sweater just to allow access to her arms unimpeded -- every drop of blood and tears from your pale crush, the tone her tormentor used when speaking directly to you

You could feel a fire light in your very core, a violently raging, swirling, erupting inferno that consumed your every thought. You crushed your phone in your hand, and you could feel your entire body suddenly feel like intense, almost maddening static like you were covered in poking and prodding pins and needles, the telltale sign that your secondary psionics were triggered. Suddenly the anxious energy you burned off came back one hundred fold, and you felt like you could take out an imperial drone with a single punch.

You stormed outside and let out a deafening, primal, enraged shout that you swear caused ripples in the once silent night air. You took another breath and screamed again, and again, and again until your throat was raw and your voice ragged and hoarse. Then you screamed again, one last time.

This was fucking war now, and you were a one woman army.

[miscmonstro]

Screams. Groans of misery, moans of pain. Growling. Gurgling. Rasping breaths, rattling, hacking, wailing, shrieks. These are the traditionally typical, gruesome sounds of ghosts.

But not all ghosts had deaths where these sounds would’ve been made. Not all ghosts drowned, for instance, so why are so many ghosts be depicted as gurgling? And in Danny Phantom, plenty of ghosts were never even human. I mean, just look at concept ghosts like Undergrowth and Nocturne.

So why would ghosts make these sounds? 

Why can’t it be singing, Ghosts could be very musical. A choir of ghosts sounds like a cool way to describe a group of ghosts and it would be so fitting. And if screaming is a regular part of singing ghosts will definitely have a different perspective of hauntings and scares than humans do. 

In a lot of fanfics I’ve read words like “static” and “screeching” have been used to describe ghost speak/language and I thought that those kinds of noises and sounds compliment this ghost singing concept well. 

Anyway, l thought it would be hilarious if for whatever reason Danny got roped into caroling one year or something and he just. Could not sing in human. Its all ghost singing that, to human ears, sounds awful and horrific.

The ghosts on the other hand are very impressed.

On the flip side maybe since ghosts are singers, his human singing gets a lot better. Maybe even too good- we know from ghosts like Ember that singing can be hypnotizing (literally and metaphorically). 

(I saw a siren halfa thing somewhere and was wondering how that would work biologically/socially and it spawned this.)