#junkyard tales

[nemo-draco]

Was considering, what with Lolligo being a part of these guys' storyline in Caged Kraken and another AU idea I had, him finding out or being reminded of Bells’s real age after some shenanigans and he's just "Oh, crap, I got a child involved in a feud".

Lolligo is from @blottart414 Bells is my bean.

[shallowseeker]

Are we going to talk about how Tall Tales also showcases Sam's classism re: Dean's flirting with the girl at the bar? How Sam vs how Dean sees her is fascinating.

[junkyarddemento]

SKIN DEEP

Killer mermaids? Maybe, but regardless of what exactly the monsters are in SKIN DEEP, this entertaining horror short feels like a fun modern day folklore about the thing that come out of the ocean to lure men!

[lukamoonvibe]

A promo post

I'm terrible at remembering to promote my cosplays so here's a big post of links I've missed over the last two weeks!

Color Crew

Boosfer

Yello

MCYT/DSMP

Ghlatt

Niki

Peach!Ranboo

SillviaTV

Revivebur

Tubbo

Ghostboo

Chaos Crew/Crewfu

5fu

DK

Kryoz

5up

LaWhoo

Elaina

Ze

ChilledChaos

Shubble

Junkyard

Misc

ATOTS!5up

ACOVIAWHGW!Kryoz

Space!Logan Sanders

ACOVIAHWGW!Smii7y

ATOTS!5up (again)

ATOTS!5up and Viper (my oc)

[patheticgirlsteve]

This is easily the most inconvenient moment possible for Eddie to have a hard-on and yet, here he is, standing in the remains of what used to be the Hawkins Public Library with his dick hard as a rock in his pants.

Eddie had heard tell of a nailbat, rumors of Steve Harrington’s weapon of choice in dealing with matters related to the Upside Down, but it had seemed mythical to him. The way the boys talked about Steve wielding it made him sound like a hero from some ancient mythology.

“You should have seen him, Eddie,” Dustin would grip Eddie’s arm with a grasp that hurt as he regaled Eddie with the tale of Steve in the Junkyard Fighting the Demodogs once more. “He was such a badass, like, so insanely cool!”

Eddie is deeply glad that he was not present at that battle, but there is a part of him that wishes he could have seen it. That he could have seen Steve wield the suburban equivalent of a mace while trying to defend his brood of strange children.

Not that Eddie would ever admit that, of course. He and Steve are tentative friends, and Eddie is not going to risk what progress he and Steve have made in maintaining a civil relationship just because he thinks the guy is hot. Of course he thinks Steve is hot, so does every other breathing human in Hawkins, Indiana.

So, yeah, Eddie is keeping that piece of information to himself. Taking it to his grave. Besides, they’re in the middle of an apocalypse and now is hardly the time for getting horny over Steve Harrington proving competence with a blunt instrument.

But apparently Eddie’s dick never got that memo. Because he’s standing here watching Steve knock those goddamn fucking demobats out of the spore infested Hawkins sky with his infamous bat, dripping with blood and snarling at the monsters. He swings with a terrifying rage in his eyes, laser focused on removing each and every single bat from the sky with a sort of feral grace that shouldn’t be possible.

Eddie watches, pants uncomfortably tight, as Steve makes one final swing at the last bat standing (flying?) with a flourish of his wrist, giving the nailbat a little twirl before using it to strike the last creature down.

Steve Harrington is absolutely unreal.

He turns around to face Eddie and Eddie is reminded that, oh yeah, they’re in the middle of a massive battle right now and he had maybe let himself get a little distracted and wow, the blood dripping through Steve’s chest hair as he tosses the nailbat onto his shoulder with practiceed ease is really doing it for Eddie, which would be fine (well, not fine, but at least somewhat manageable) if it were literally any other moment in time.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks Eddie, voice hoarse and raspy in a way that really shouldn’t be sexy because it’s probably caused by Steve breathing spores and demobat guts or something else equally horrifying, but it is hot and there is something deeply wrong with Eddie.

And maybe there is some single solitary shred of mercy left remaining in the universe, because Steve is seemingly too focused on the war waging around them to clock the bulge in Eddie’s pants.

“Yup!” Eddie nods, feeling like a bobble head in his enthusiasm. “Great! Feeling great! Never better!”

Steve gives him an odd look, considering, but seems to accept Eddie’s assertion that he’s unharmed. He probably just attributes the strange behavior to Eddie’s general weirdness, which is perfectly fine with Eddie.

“Good,” Steve’s eyes drift to the steadily growing dark cloud that obscures much of the red sky. “Let’s get moving then.”

He stomps past Eddie, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes. Eddie closes his eyes and scrapes the corners of his mind for the least sexy thoughts he can summon to will his boner away.

“You coming?” Steve calls back from a few yards behind Eddie.

“Right behind you, big boy,” Eddie says. He takes a deep breath in and out before turning to follow Steve back into the fray.

[doctorsilverhead]

Hey there!

This is my very first req on tumblr cause I'm just too shy to ask anything. So yay!

May I request for a Bayverse Optimus with human fem reader? I don't know, just fluffy things. But honestly, I prefer Optimus being an alien dad bot to the reader. So like- fatherly fluffy things, you know?

Then again, I feel like bayverse Optimus need some more love! I'm basically begging you for our ruthless yet gentle leader!

Make it after TLK event please! (Just pretend he didn't go home to the Cybertron yet lol)

Thank you before that!

More Than Meets the Metal: When Optimus Found a Heartbeat (Bayverse Optimus Prime X Human Reader)

In the aftermath of the harrowing events of The Last Knight, the world found itself in a state of flux, grappling with the revelations of an ancient war that had spilled onto Earth's doorstep. Amidst the chaos, a beacon of hope emerged in the form of Optimus Prime, the noble leader of the Autobots, who had once again proven his unwavering commitment to protecting humanity.

For one young woman, the presence of Optimus Prime took on a deeper, more personal significance. She had been drawn into the whirlwind of events, witnessing firsthand the sacrifices made by these extraordinary beings from another world. In the aftermath, she found herself forging an unexpected bond with the towering Autobot commander, one that transcended the boundaries of species and culture.

Optimus Prime, with his ancient wisdom and compassionate spark, recognized the profound impact the events had left on the young woman's psyche. In a gesture that defied his imposing stature, he extended a gentle, fatherly presence, offering solace and guidance in a world that had been forever altered.

Optimus would regale her with tales of Cybertron's golden age, painting vivid pictures of a world teeming with life and wonder.

In turn,Y/N would share her own stories, her hopes, and her dreams, finding solace in the unwavering patience and understanding of her alien father figure. Optimus would listen intently, offering sage advice and encouragement, his words carrying the weight of eons of experience.

Optimus would take her on excursions, introducing her to the wonders of the natural world. They would venture into pristine forests, where he would explain the ecosystem, or gaze up at the stars, as he recounted the vast expanse of the cosmos and the myriad worlds that lay beyond.

He worried like a father hen, constantly reminding you of potential dangers. "Stay within the perimeter, little one," he'd say, his voice a deep baritone that echoed through the yard. You'd roll your eyes, but a smile would always touch your lips. He meant well, always looking out for you.

Sometimes, you'd read to him while he repaired himself, stories of faraway lands and fantastical creatures. He'd listen intently, his blue optics flickering with amusement at the lighter tales and dimming with concern at the darker ones.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the junkyard in a warm glow, you presented Optimus with a gift – a small, hand-painted firefly encased in resin. "For protection," you said, a little shyly. He carefully took the trinket, his optics softening. "Thank you, little one," he murmured, a hint of wonder in his voice. "It reminds me of you. Small, but with a light that shines bright even in the darkest of times." He attached the firefly to his chest plate, close to his spark chamber. It was a small gesture, but in the desolate landscape, it spoke volumes. It was a symbol of the unexpected family you had found in each other, a testament to the enduring power of hope and love, even in a world determined to extinguish it.

As the world around them continued to heal and rebuild, their bond only grew stronger, a testament to the enduring power of compassion and understanding. Optimus Prime had become more than just a protector of humanity; he had become a father figure, a mentor, and a friend, offering a sense of belonging in a universe that had suddenly become infinitely larger and more wondrous.

[disneyparksattractionstournament]

Disney obscure songs tournament matchups

Substitutiary Locomotion vs So Close

To Be Free vs A world without fences

The Sweetest Sounds vs Fearless

It’s Fun to Be Free vs As long as there’s christmas

There's a great big beautiful tomorrow vs It’s what’s inside that counts

Pericles of Athens vs Carrying the banner

Elena of Avalor Theme Song vs Ain't No Doubt About It

Forget About Love vs Color spectrum song

We've Just Begun To Dream' vs Boo Bop Bopbop Bop (I Love You, Too)

Stories vs Great Outdoors

(We Used To) Listen to the Land vs Little Orange Bird

High adventure vs I miss you

Riddle diddle 123 vs One Little Spark

Make me look good vs The world will know

Diggin' in dinoLand vs Trick or Treat (for Halloween)

Destino vs Ballad of Davy Crockett

The Best Time of Your Life vs Petey’s king of France

Destiny vs The Song of the Seeonee

Space Angels vs My Lullaby

Happily ever after vs Let’s Go Back to the Future

Canada (you're a lifetime journey) vs Whistle Stop (Ragtime Demo)

Once and for all vs Why Me?

Come little children vs In the Space Between

Blue Milk Surprise vs Universe of energy loop/theme

Magic Journeys vs Le Festin

Queen of Mean vs The Bear Band Serenade

One Dance vs Junkyard society rag

Wherever You Are vs Naked mole rap

He lives in you vs If I Never Knew You

Can’t back down vs Morning report

We've Come So Far vs Rolie polie olie theme

It's a Kick vs The Mickey Mouse Club

Humiliate The Boy vs Scrooge

Boo to you vs Minnie’s Yoo-Hoo

Tomorrows Child vs The Apple Song

Eglantine vs Night falls

Baloo's Blues vs Quit Playing Games With My Head

Kitchen Cabaret vs One step closer

Love (Robin Hood Version) vs Babkak, Omar, Aladdin, Kassim

Wishes vs Oo-De-Lolly (Country Western Score Demo)

In a Heartbeat vs Call Me, Beep Me

Your Side of the Line vs Promise

It's Gonna Get Weird vs Dig It

Extraordinary vs I'm Walking Right Down the Middle of Main Street U.S.A.

Remember the magic vs The Man With The Golden Touch

Follow your heart vs Evermore

Own the night vs It’s on

John Henry vs On this magic night

Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful vs We go on/Illuminations

If you had wings vs A Step in the Right Direction

Making memories vs Not in Nottingham (Prince John version)

The Spartan Anthem/Spar OTC Fight Song vs Disney Sing-Along Songs Theme Song

What’s My Name vs One Good Man

Talespin Theme Song vs Fantasmic! Main Theme

Next stop anywhere vs Snuff Out the Light

Midas Curse vs Follow the compass of your heart

Surprise in the Skies vs Welcome To The Forty Thieves

Paul Bunyan vs Grim grinning ghosts

One of Us vs Beneath the Laughing Sky

Passamaschloddy vs Shadowland

Phantom manor overture vs If we were a movie

A Whale of a Tale vs Brothers All

Chop away at my heart vs Eating the peach

The Apple Dumpling Gang vs Suitcase And A Dream

[maisonaime]

The Star Who Listened [Azriel x Reader]

My little contribution to @starfallweek 2024 ✨

Prompt: Character A is a fallen star, Character B finds them

Note: Angst with a happy ending. This prompt immediately reminded me of this quote from a very beautiful but heart wrenching spoken word poem about the power of friendship and of friends who dream together. Happy Starfall Week!

“You kept a rock on a satin pillow on your bookshelf and told me ‘It’s a star.’ You said you found in a junkyard. And it had been broken down for quite some time because too many people wished on it, and that’s a lot of pressure for one little star.” Shane Koyczan and the Short Story Long, For Instance

There was no telling how long he had lain there. Long enough that the ground had given way to valleys and mountains, snow and grass, fire and rain. Long enough that the wind and the moon cooled his skin, warped from the burnout. Long enough that the bones that cracked on impact hardened in the same position they had come to rest. Long enough that he learned all of the parallels of nature.

First he learned the way the ground vibrates during an earthquake is almost indiscernible from the thundering of hooves and feet as armored men trample over him. His tears flow into the rivulets of blood from fallen warriors, which flow into the river that rages through the carrion. He wants to wash away with it.

Then he learned how the earth would split and crack and flow bright and hot, creeping across the ground like candlewax. It looks like his beautiful, ruined hands. He remembers the skin dripping off of bone when he could no longer hold the burning dreams they piled into his arms. So bright, and so beautiful, but so heavy.

Then he learned how the air would hang heavy before the sky cracks open. It reminds him of the weight that hung around his shoulders in the moments before he tumbled from the sky. Feels the despair, the failure in being unable to remain afloat. He waits for Hera’s wrath for his forsaking of Astraea.

Azriel could’ve recounted all the lessons he learned in all the hundreds of years he’d lain there. Could’ve stopped someone to tell his story, to beg pity or forgiveness, or simply for a listening ear. But how could he have proven his tale?

Who would believe that a small, rough-edged, unassuming rock was actually a fallen star?

How could he even begin to explain the thousands of dreams he had forsaken when he fell? He had seen some of those dreams dashed personally. Had seen the men whose safety had been prayed for fall screaming on their swords. Had seen a woman who wanted nothing more than a child bury seven silent born at the riverbed. Had seen the children who dreamed of their prince or princess and were instead sold into marriage beds with monsters and carted away from their homes.

So he could not move, he could not speak. He could only relive his failure and all the lessons he’d learned from it. Lessons he would never get to use. Lessons that meant nothing to anyone, because lessons don’t mean as much as dreams do.

Rocks don’t mean as much as stars.

But to you they do.

You, who look to the stars to guide you. But who also looks to the ground to see how far you have come. You who use rocks to mark the trail the stars take you along. You who collect the ones you find most beautiful, the ones that remind you of the stars.

You too have a gift for seeing the parallels in nature.

And yes, dreams are beautiful. But so are the lessons we learn when they do and don’t come true.

And so, this is how he finds himself in your pocket, after so many years in the dust. After so many years on the cold ground. The wool of your skirt is warm and soft, and it cushions Azriel’s hardened heart.

The next thing he knows he is resting on a satin pillow, high on a shelf in your room where he can watch over this strange savior. He watches day and night. Watches as you work and write and wander by day. Watches as you dream by night.

He wishes you had left him on the ground. He is stricken and terrified to be so close to another’s dreams, even as his very essence cries out to caress them. It is worse agony than he ever faced. At least before didn’t have to be so close to the humans who once depended on him.

He feels perverted because you haven’t even entrusted him with your dreams and here he is fantasizing about them. Prostrate before you trying to hold himself back, because he cannot warp your dreams with his horrible hands. Cannot bear the responsibility of ruining even one more dream. No matter how large or small.

He doesn’t even know why he is there. Why you plucked him out of his quiet obscurity and forced him to endure this proximity to such a vociferous dreamer. He loves and hates it in equal measure. Loves and hates you in equal measure.

And then the strangest thing happens one day. You are showing a friend around your room. And your friend points to him and laughs “Why do you have that rock on that pillow?” and Azriel would blush if he wasn’t a rock. But you smile knowingly and say “That’s not a rock, it’s a star I found. It fell from the sky when too many people piled their wishes onto it. Too much pressure for anything, don’t you think?” and the friend nods understandingly.

And Azriel glows. And Azriel cracks. Because he is awash with the forgiveness of a dreamer. And he remembers the child with eyes like yours but different, the first who looked up to him and wished. The one who made him want to take as many wishes as he could carry, and then take more after that.

And when the friend is gone, you reach up onto the shelf and bring down the satin pillow. You set it on your desk, and observe the crack that that splits your star down the middle. You gingerly separate the two halves, and behold the bright blue gemstone in the center.

You smile. “Do you think the weight of one person’s dreams is bearable? I promise to leave plenty of room for your own.”

Azriel glows as brightly as he once did in the sky.

[lichen-soup-scribe]

You learn so much about your friends while shooting the shit around a campfire together...

Apparently, when my pal Dan lived in New Jersey, he drove an ice cream truck. For the mafia. For context: If anyone else told that tale, I’d immediately call bullshit. But Dan’s a really straightforward, guy -- and he’s lived a pretty interesting life in general, including a stint as a wilderness tour guide in Alaska. 

 Incidentally, he also looks like the perfect ice cream man man: he has this eye-wrinkling smile and cheery red cheeks, and you can absolutely picture him wearing a paper hat at a jaunty angle.

That this company was run by the mafia wasn’t explicit, but was pretty obvious. His boss had the most Italian-ass first name -- “He wasn’t interested in telling me his last name, and I don’t know if he knew mine,” Dan said -- and was the only one allowed in the large freezer trailer where the inventory was stored. Dan said he assumed there were bodies in there.

Said truck was stored in the middle of a junkyard, which was guarded by Rottweilers at night. If you happened to still be in there when they were released, you'd have to climb on top of your truck and play "the floor is lava and the lava is angry dogs" til you got to the building that fronted the road.

The other two main factions were the Saudi Arabians and a single large Greek woman. "She was mean enough to hold her own," Dan said. 

These factions had divvied up the local parks and ball fields and so on, which Dan learned the hard way. "But nobody owned the streets."

IHOP was neutral territory. If you parked your truck there, it signaled to the other factions that you wanted to parlay. 

Once, near the time school got out, Dan was plying his trade toward the end of a long cul-de-sac -- the signature bells of his company playing over the PA system -- when he heard “Turkey in the Straw” getting closer. One of the Saudis turned onto the cul-de-sac, heading slowly towards him. To escape, he’d have to drive right past him. 

And then, as he was getting ready to gun it: “Do your ears hang low” approached. It was the Greek lady, turning into the same cul-de-sac. Suddenly he was in a three-way stand-off. 

And then, to top it all off, the school bus pulled in and began unloading kids. 

As Dan watched in horror, the Greek lady parked her truck and, marched over to the Saudi guy’s truck, cursing loudly.

And then -- before the horrified eyes of the children, in the din of competing ice cream truck speaker systems -- she REACHED into his open window, pulled him halfway through it by his hair with one hand, and started pummeling him with the other. 

Dan beat a hasty retreat. He later heard through the ice cream man grapevine that the cops were called and the Greek lady ended up being sent back to Greece.

[randomreader92]

Alastor's Tale: Swap AU Part 1:

The son of a black mother and white father.

Due to being poor, Alastor is smaller than most kids his age and wears hand-me-down clothes.

They didn't have much money, but when Alastor's mother had extra cash on hand, she would buy Alastor some chocolate as a special treat.

Loves helping his mother with gardening and cooking and is teased by his peers for having "womanly" hobbies.

Is fascinated with the radio and fiddles with broken radios he finds in the junkyard as a hobby.

Kills his abusive father with the Worn Dagger after witnessing him murdering his mother.

Runs away to Mt Ebbot to "disappear."

Trips and falls into the Underground, where he is found by Asriel.

Has lived with the Dreemurr family for multiple years.

With the Dreemurr's gentle encouragement, Alastor became more comfortable with how they express their gender identity (such as growing out their hair or wearing more traditionally feminine clothing) though terms such as "agender" or "genderfluid" are unknown to them.

Helps Asgore out with gardening and Toriel with cooking.

Still struggling with severe depression and isolation.

Asriel and Alastor are genuinely close but are dependent on each other to an unhealthy degree due to their past isolation from their peers (Al due to prejudice and Azzy due to being the Prince Of Monsters).

Has been dead for years now, but their Determination kept them "aware" and attached to their body, unable to move on to the afterlife.

Alastor wakes up confused and trapped as a human's shadow with no idea just how much time has passed.

Despite it all, Alastor is quite pleased with their more "monster-like" appearance. They wish they could've been a goat instead, though.

Alastor starts to "narrate" the human's surroundings out of boredom, imitating the radiohosts they loved listening to back on the surface.

Inspired by @crookedfood23bog's Alastor's Tale: link

[nemo-draco]

Saw a reel on Insta and immediately thought of this pack of loons. Someone tossed a rock into the river and caused a neuron activation moment.

They are seized by the fatal American need to have a good time.

Also Bee (big guy in the back with no freckles that just went TARGET ACQUIRED) is about to give poor Boo a heart attack pitching a rock at Mach 2 past his head. Poor man can't see and probably isn't paying attention to you, Bee, take it easy on him.

Everyone else has just grabbed the collective brain cell and is just like "tossing rocks and screaming? Hell yeah, brother, sign me up".

The Vigilante version of Bendy is from @kkolg , Lolligo is from @blottart414 , and Boo comes from @sstvar . Everybody else is from me.

[eliounora]

So then what would you consider to be true middle class? And what are some tell tale signs someone is middle class? besides nice teeth and Patagonia jackets and an apple watch they only wear when they work out

hi! I think it depends on area/country, for example here in my native finland middle class can look quite different from the american middle class. like if you think of wealthier people here "nice teeth" doesn't really come to mind, because on the regular most people have to various degrees imperfect public healthcare teeth hahaha!

nevertheless from what I've read the middle class still hard or even impossible to define truly, and there's also many methods to define class. that is sort of what I wanted to say with my post -- you can't really take two random things, two cars, and deduce class from that alone. but for example it could be considered that I am embodying my class when I start to speak about the sociologist pierre bourdieu and his ideas of cultural capital: I am showing (in my habitus) that I have high education, which is my personal cultural capital, and in having that personal capital I have power over those who have no idea who bourdieu is. however, I've obviously needed a family background and financial means to acquire my education, so I've also had economic capital.

in my understanding, to go to college in the US your parents often need to have the means to save money for your tuition (lest you drown in debt), so naturally the children of those who can't save up don't go to college as often. in a nordic welfare state setting where tuition itself is free, more people can go to college, but socio-enomic standing is still inherited. my parents do not have higher education and for sure do not know who pierre bourdieu is, but they do have money, so I would say with economic capital alone you do reach power in other forms of capital as well.

I think you are in the right by mentioning a patagonia jacket and an apple watch. those are luxury items. whether the patagonia jacket is new or thrifted, the wearer has most likely needed the knowledge of patagonia as a nice outdoor wear brand, and what it symbolises. in those terms, I consider myself middle class (not in my personal assets necessarily, but again, in connection to my parents) partly because I have a fjällräven jacket, and although thrifted (still a price that someone poor could not pay without saving for it) it still carries a cultural meaning, and that's why I wanted to get it. it's hip right now!

to summarise and actually answer your question, what then is the difference between the upper middle class and the true middle class -- I think that can be impossible to say. does true middle class only have one car and upper middle class has two? someone might have a whole junkyard of cars, but that is not really a middle class thing to have -- but then, someone could drive a single porsche, and you know they have money.

[junkyarddemento]

DEATH AND THE WINEMAKER 

We’ve seen variations on the story of humans tricking and trapping the devil or death, so we’ll look past any plot holes you can spot. The star of this film, however, is absolutely the animation. A beautiful macabre experience, which you don’t find much in either long or short form entertainment. Victor Jaquier elevates all the elements here by anchoring them in rich, stunning animated visuals and moments. This is a must watch for genre fans, or fans of animation in general. 

[silkling]

The Last Race

Y’all ever have a sudden thought about the robots in the middle of a class about imperialism? Cause I did. Specifically in relation to Functionism. So I made a little drabble. Have fun with it. :)

———————————————————————————————————

He lost.

He lost.

He lost.

The biggest race of the deca-vorn, and Blurr had lost.

There was chaos around him as the victor cheered. Media drones buzzed around.

One of them paused to snap a picture of his frozen frame. 

His processor was lagging, dragging along with the speed of broken down transport. He felt distant. Not present in his own frame. Like he was observing the proceedings from outside of himself.

A frame bumped into him, sending him stumbling.

He dragged his processor back to himself, optics overbright with shock and stress, disbelief making his spark tight in his chest. The other racers were gathered around the vicor, cheering and congratulating him.

He couldn’t bring himself to join them.

Dread made his spark spasm with pain, and suddenly he couldn’t vent. 

He wheezed, and then he was turning, stumbling, running out of the arena and away, away, away.

He hadn’t even placed on the podium.

It had been the most important race of his life.

And Blurr and lost.

(And he was lost. Lost in his own processor, swept up in the panic and disbelief. So lost that he didn’t notice when the stranger on the rooftop lined up a rifle and took the shot. He just felt the sting of impact, and then he was lost to the darkness)

-----------------

When he came to, he ached. 

His helm was in agony, as were his servos and legs. 

He shifted, and the movement caused a clattering of metal around and under him,. He onlined his optics when something hit him on the helm. Except…

Something was wrong with his vision. It was…different. 

Why was his periphery smaller?

He lifted a servo, to rub away the lingering static, unsure what was going on. Last he remembered, he’d been running. Had he crashed from the stress? It would explain why he felt strange.

And then his servo entered his field of vision.

It wasn't a servo anymore. 

It was a claw.

His energon turned to ice in his lines, spark starting to pulse a turborabbit’s pace.

He lifted his other servo, hope aching in his chest, unsure what he was hoping for. 

He was met with another claw. 

He jolted upright, and something fell from his chest to his lap. He looked down, vision fritzing with shock and panic.

A datapad.

What?

He tried to pick it up, but he couldn’t get a grip.

After several minutes of struggle, his ventilations coming in faster gasps with every failure, he finally just nudged it face up in his lap and tapped a claw on the power button to turn it on.

A letter greeted him.

Blurr,

I am disappointed. I invested a lot in your victory today. You were supposed to succeed. You cost me with your loss. I do not abide by failures, and I have no need for a washout of a racer. Let your current state be a lesson as to what becomes of those who cost me.

Senator Proteus

He stared at the words, uncomprehending

This didn’t make sense.

He didn’t understand. 

Blurr shifted, shoving the datapad aside. It had to be a joke.

(He ignored how his current state said that this was very much real.)

This was wrong. All wrong. He had to find help. He could fix this.

Finally, he looked around. If he could figure out where he was, he could figure out where he needed to go.

Mountains of metal met his gaze. In the distance, he saw the tell-tale glow of a smelter. 

Oh.

This was a junkyard.

He shook, shaking his helm in denial. 

“No.” he croaked.

He flinched.

(Even his voice was different. Not as smooth as it had been. Raspier. How much had they taken from him?)

“No.” he repeated the denial, shifting and trying to stand. 

His legs weren’t  bending right. When he looked down, he didn’t recognize what he was looking at. His legs looked wrong. His knee bent the right way, but there was another joint now. Or was it that they’d made his shins shorter?

Primus. 

They’d taken his legs.

He gasped painfully, and finally he forced himself up. His pedes were different too. Thinner. Maybe segmented? 

He tried to get his balance but he wavered, then tipped forwards as the metal scraps under his pedes shifted. He caught himself on his knees and servos (not claws, they couldn’t be claws).

He wheezed, shaking, and finally forced himself up again, going slower. 

He took everything slower, even as his spark screamed for speed.

Finally, he made it out of the junkyard, and collapsed again at the edge of the sea of scrap metal. 

This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some sick, twisted recharge flux.

A glint caught his periphery. He looked over, spotting a cracked, dull mirror, its gleaming finish long since worn away but its surface still reflective enough to give him a look at himself.

It made him shake.

It should have been obvious, given what had been done to his servos and legs and voice, and yet, it still made him sick. 

Somehow, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to think, to dwell, on the possibility.

He stared into the mirror, every vain hope fizzling out as his spark thrummed agonizingly in his chest.

A single, bright blue optic stared back at him.

[marshmallowprotection]

Mystictober Day 29

Mystictober 2024 | Day 29: Reverse AU/Fairy Tale

Error 707 was a man made of thunder and lightning. He was the crackle of the fire and the overwhelming snap that came with it. There was no other way about it. He wasn't the type of man who would think twice about what needed to be done. He knew there would never be any other choice but to take the path ahead.

The truth in being the guard dog of Mint Eye was to accept the eyes that would never see him as anything more than that. As something to be feared until the end of time.

That was who he was by design.

That was who he would always be.

He accepted it, and it was up to the foolish believers to learn that for themselves, otherwise, they would end up with gnashes and marks to show for their foolishness. It happened once before, and it would always happen again. People never learned, they never wanted to be cautious, and that was why they were the sheep who needed some... salvation.

But, salvation was the Savior's job, not Error's.

The sooner you learned that, the better.

Why did you stare at him with eyes like that, anyway? Eyes that somehow believed he was more than a mutt. There was something wrong with you, and it didn't seem like elixir was going to fix what ruined you in the first place, because you kept seeking out the dog with fangs that could rip your arm off if he wanted to. He could, he would only need to lose control once and you would know the same pain he did.

So, why?

Why didn't you cower and run away?

Why didn't you grovel at his heels?

Didn't you understand what would happen to you if you didn't?

"I don't think you're a junkyard dog, Mr. Luciel," you said, fingers at the ready to stroke the space above his heart. "Even if you were... a dog isn't a wicked beast who intended to bite others because they want to hurt them. Dogs typically lash out because they were either trained to attack or because they're afraid of something."

"Oh, yeah?" He mocked your words as he puffed out his chest. He didn't hesitate to push you away. "Is that what you think? What kind of dog do you think I am?"

"The scared dog who's known nothing but pain, and that's why he can't accept a gentle hand," you whispered. Your eyes were filled to the brim with the very thing he hated. He hated hope, and he hated your eyes even more. "I don't think you're mean because you want to be mean. I think you believe there's no other choice."

He didn't like that look in your eyes.

He needed it to disappear forever. He needed you to go away so he wouldn't have to deal with this again and again and again. His life... was meant for one thing and one thing alone. He couldn't have the kindness of another person hold him back. He couldn't let that come to pass ever again.

"I'll show you true fear," he shouted. You didn't close your eyes as he pulled back his hand, nor did you flinch when he lashed out because you seemed to know better than he did. His hand... stopped before it could ever touch you. He could never bring himself to do it. Not to a face like that. Not to someone who believed like... they did.

"It's okay, Mr. Luciel. I'll never be afraid of you... so you don't have to be afraid of me."

Error screamed.

[themculibrary]

Daniel Sousa Masterlist

3, 2, 1… (ao3) - muscatmusic18 peggy/daniel G, 1k

Summary: What if Peggy and Daniel didn’t follow up after their office kiss, and instead have to wait until New Year’s?

A Confidential Source (ao3) - Cuppa_tea_love peggy/daniel G, 11k

Summary: Peggy is missing Daniel after he moves to L.A. and nothing on earth will induce her to talk about it.

all we do is drive. (ao3) - romantashas daisy/daniel, leo/jemma M, 30k

Summary: Daisy has missed the open road. She used to always love taking her van out and just driving. Los Angeles was where she liked to stick around, but she would always go on these road trips just because she wanted to explore somewhere new.

She’s always liked running away from things.

It was different, having someone with her.

-

In which Daisy Johnson helps Daniel Sousa explore the modern world by taking him on a cross-country road trip in a van. Post-Finale road trip AU with MCU tie-ins.

A Week After Death (ao3) - manoutoftimeandquake daisy/daniel, peggy/steve T, 15k

Summary: An explosion in an alien junkyard sends Daisy, Sousa and Kora back in time to meet some people from Sousa’s past.

Bad Romance (ao3) - Peggysousfan peggy/daniel M, 27k

Summary: Peggy is a young, new, college professor starting her first day on the job. Daniel is a new student starting fresh at the University. The two meet at a party not knowing anything about each other. What will happen when a one night stand turns to be a secret love affair between a teacher and student…

Edge of Tonight (ao3) - Letmebecomeataboo daisy/daniel G, 38k

Summary:  1946, New York City

Daniel Sousa is an agent, working for the SSR in New York. When the search for wanted fugitive Howard Stark comes to a stand still, a new agent named Daisy Johnson is sent from the Los Angeles office to help. Now, on top of trying to figure out where Stark is, Daniel suddenly has to fight with his feelings for the mysterious and beautiful new agent.

Endings and Beginnings (ao3) - truth_renowned peggy/daniel M, 56k

Summary: Two cups of angst, a few tablespoons of smut and a heaping helping of mytharc. Post Hollywood Ending. Originally posted as a one-shot but it wouldn't leave me alone until it became a search for Jack's shooter. Alternates between Peggy's and Daniel's points of view.

Grace Under Pressure (ao3) - sheron background peggy/daniel G, 20k

Summary: Of the hundred ways Jack could confess his secret, he picks one of the worst. Daniel doesn't take it well.

I Have Lived A Life (ao3) - em2mb peggy/daniel T, 11k

Summary: A look back at her life with Daniel Sousa.

In the Cold November (ao3) - Sholio peggy/daniel T, 14k

Summary: Peggy, Daniel, and Jack hunt a lake monster in upstate New York. It goes about like you'd expect.

Question and Answer (ao3) - keysburg peggy/daniel T, 35k

Summary: Returning to reality after their Hollywood Ending, Daniel and Peggy have their hands full with Hugh Jones and the M. Carter file. If that wasn’t enough to hinder a fledgling romance, there’s still an office to lead--and a mole inside it. At a specialized training camp, Daniel searches for the traitor. Meanwhile, he learns more than he expected about all his agents, including Peggy.

Renegades (ao3) - inkdust peggy/daniel M, 45k

Summary: or, Peggy & Daniel Against the World

The Next Guy (ao3) - roboticonography peggy/daniel, peggy/steve T, 11k

Summary: "It’s the one subject that’s never open for discussion: Peggy’s grand love affair with Captain America. It’s not exactly a secret—in fact, it’s become something of a legend within the SSR. Everyone and their dog has a version of the romantic tale, pieced together through third-hand eyewitness accounts and wild speculation.

There’s only one person Daniel wants to hear the story from, though, and she ain’t talking."

Three Deaths (ao3) - glorious_spoon peggy/daniel T, 1k

Summary: Three ways it could have gone for Jack, Peggy, and Daniel, and how it went instead. Inspired by this prompt.

Time Difference Like A Lifetime (ao3) - spatialvoid peggy/daniel, daniel/violet T, 5k

Summary: or, what happened between when Daniel left and when Peggy stayed.

Trip Wire (ao3) - Sholio peggy/daniel T, 11k

Summary: “Former reconnaissance scout. This won’t be my first time defusing a bomb.” Daniel knows bombs, but it’s a little different when it’s Peggy’s life at stake, and he’s having to talk Jack through defusing the bomb over the radio. For my h/c bingo wildcard square, “explosions.”

Whiskey and Lipstick (ao3) - i_owe_you_a_bourbon peggy/daniel/jack G, 7k

Summary: “That was a hell of an entrance, Carter,” said Thompson. He didn’t seem to have any problems forming words, though he seemed affected enough to have forgotten the fact that his arm was still draped over Sousa’s shoulders. Sousa wasn’t about to remind him. The closeness of Thompson’s body and Peggy’s smile and the liquor in his belly were all making him feel very warm and comfortable, and he wasn’t quite ready for the feeling to end.

Worth It (ao3) - Yalu peggy/daniel T, 20k

Summary: Peggy and Daniel take on an undercover mission - as a married couple. Between arranging cover stories and plotting with Jarvis, Peggy works double-time searching for an edge to help clear Howard's name.

Set between episodes 3 and 4. For my tropes bingo square "fake relationship".