#tw object death

[objectsarebestest]

I want to talk about POSIC+ people who have developed intense fears or even phobias due to their object sentience. Because I feel like this is something that isn’t really talked about much, and I want to give support to those who experience this. Show them they aren’t alone. Shed some light on this aspect of the POSIC+ experience.

I am cynophobic, which means I have an intense fear of dogs. While I am not officially diagnosed, my current therapist has agreed that the extent of my fear is similar to that of a phobia. I wasn’t always like this. There was a time, when I was young, when I felt safe around dogs. When I even wanted a dog. God, that’s hard to imagine now. All of this changed when I was about 8 or 9, when I walked in on my grandpa’s two dogs ripping up a plushie. I think it was a bear. Or maybe a bunny. I don’t know. I had no attachment to that particular plush. But I would be lying if I said that my mind didn’t react to that scene as if it was gore. From then on, I saw every dog as a potential threat, if not to me then to my objects. Dogs featured in every nightmare I had. Dogs noticed my fear of them, and acted more aggressive towards me in return, feeding my fear. I still do not feel safe with dogs. My dream is to live in a world with no dogs, but I know that is not possible. A couple people in my life know I am afraid of dogs. But only my therapist knows why. I tell people, “Something happened with a dog when I was young” if they ask why I’m afraid. I let them assume it was an attack. I never tell them it was something they probably see as normal. They would think of me as ridiculous. Sometimes I wonder if they’re right.

An even stranger fear of mine (that I don’t think is bad enough to be considered a phobia) is that of cement mixers. My stomach just drops when I see them. Because of a book. A book I read as a tween. A kid has magical powers and gets kidnapped by an evil organization. The organization tries to force him to use his powers for their own gain. This sounds scary, but I was completely unfazed by it. But then came this next part. When the kid refuses to cooperate, the head official takes his collection of plastic army men and pours it into a cement mixer. This is when I stopped reading. I started sleeping with a nightlight again. That way I could see if evil officials wanted to break into my room and kidnap me. So I could stop them and protect my objects from the cement mixer. I still struggle to convince myself that that book is not real. I’m safe. My objects are safe. No one in my life knows how I feel about cement mixers. They would laugh in my face. Especially if they knew why.

I sometimes feel just so alone. Like no one understands these fears I have. Fears I don’t know how to get rid of, or if I have the energy to try. I want other POSIC+ people with phobias to feel less alone. You are safe here. You are safe from your fears.

[objectum-culture-is]

my wife is dead….. [my imac g3]

i Loved Her and ive finally gotten out of denial.

it was a bad flyback

what do i do now?? she died a day after i got her

I'm so sorry to hear that she died! It must hurt tremendously to have lost her so soon after getting her. Maybe writing her letters would help you process your grief? If you ever need to talk about it, my ask box is always open ^^

[rosjectum]

[kodi9000]

dude I wanna donate azure to the computer museum soooo bad so they could fix her flyback transformer and make her public to everyone. but my dad wants to uhmm.. put a completely new computer inside her. in her shell. idk whether I like that or not. i also would want to turn her into a cool costume so she can live on <3

[centi-pedve]

we'd probably be an objectum posic baddie right now if we didn't discover it when there was like 0 support system for objectum and posic people and everyone we knew was the type of person to tolerate young us (not good) so we've essentially been scared out of experiencing empathy or affectionate feelings towards objects. cuz like gonna be real 4 a sec when everyone else found out they made it their life mission to make us regret it. whenever they found out we grew fond towards any object they would destroy it smash it set it on fire even if it was their own belongings in front of us just so we'd see. the objects we were the most fond of and still feel some fondness towards were from a group that cannot fit into the plushie or tech category and are also considered very disposable so now whenever we look at them and feel anything more positive than pure apathy we are hit with level 1000 dread beam

[woozywaspy]

toy customization makes me go crazy

x

[trashofspace]

Goofy, silly shows are great, but wouldn't it be lovely if bfdi had a bit more of a...cruel side too? I would love that.

[dragiani2]

Sketch Dump!

[dicediceking]

How would Taco's death go in the human au?

Like it doesn't really make sense for her to just crack. Humans don't do that

It was stress induced right. So maybe like some sort or aneurysm? Idk I didn't do any research for this (the cracks on the 1st pic would just be visual effects to make it look like she's cracking)

Got any ideas?

[crow-aeris]

Part 3 of the au my brain worms gave me 😔

Part 1, 2, 4

=====

"I keep forgetting about you being a literal trash rat," Jason scoffs, poking at the single pitiful skillet at sat innocently in the giant pantry. He sighs, taking it out, rinsing it, before setting it on the stove.

"Shut up," Tim sighed, pressing his face into the countertop, "You're such an asshole."

"Language, birdy," Jason scoffed, grimacing as he looked through the fridge, "Is there nothing organic in here? You're supposed to be rich, Tim!"

"It's too much work!" his brother complained, "I can't bother with cooking when there are Batmen and Robins to stalk!"

Jason deadpanned, turning over to pin Tim with an unimpressed stare, "Really, kid?"

He shrugs, "You called me a stalker, Jay, I'm just leaning into it! Also, do you want to deal with Dick or Damian next?"

Jason scoffed, "You're the genius, figure it out."

"You lie to Batman once!"

"Oh shut up," Jason rolled his eyes before deciding to make scrambled eggs, because those were the only thing in the entire fridge that were even slightly healthy. Everything else was either frozen meals, exotic fruit juice, and even more frozen meals. God the amount of salt here is atrocious, "We both know you've lied to all of us at least three times."

It was very telling when Tim didn't respond.

"Alright, you make the plans, I make the eggs, and I'll veto anything that sounds utterly batshit insane."

"Do you want to call your mom first?" Tim offered, "She's probably worried sick."

Jason turned, his expression pinching as guilt churned in his chest... He... He doesn't know if he should. He knows she'll die, that someday she'll overdose and leave behind a shaking, trembling, wide-eyed and fearful son, but- but he doesn't think he could deal with it again. Sure, she's his mom, but he- he doesn't know her, this version of her, at least.

"It's okay if you don't-"

"Shut up," he hissed, shocking himself at how strangled and strained his voice sounded, "I- I don't know if I can."

And Tim, with an infuriatingly patient expression, nods.

Jason sucks in a breath through his teeth. He came to peace with her death all those years ago, the faint memory of his previous life overlapping with this reality's.

But... he still owes it to her...

"...Do you want to come with me?" Jason asks after a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah," Tim responds, "Let me go grab some money, and we can buy something instead."

Jason nods shortly before shoving the skillet back into the pantry before going to wait by the door.

A few moments later, the pair of boys sat side by side on the back of the bus. They made have been at each other's throat all those years ago, but now- god help those who ever try to sever them.

As the bus slowed to a stop, the pair wordlessly stood in tandem and strode off the bus. Years of carefully ingrained memory allowing the pair to work together like a well-oiled machine.

"What are you kids doing out here?" a strange man drawls, striding forward to stand in front of the two.

Jason tensed, shifting forward to place himself between Tim and the strange man, "It's none of your business."

"Don't be like that," the man continues, stepping forward with hungry eyes trawling down Jason's face, "are you two brothers?"

Tim's hand pressed against his shoulder, and Jason relaxed to allow Tim to work his stalker magic.

"Yes, we are!" Tim chirped brightly, his currently tone at complete odds with Tim half an hour ago, "I'm so sorry about my brother's attitude. He didn't get enough sleep last night, you see, so he's just a little grumpy."

"I can speak for myself, Al," Jason huffed, feeling acutely aware of the eyes pinning against his skin.

The man looked interested. It was all Jason could do to keep himself from lashing out at the man for his predatory gaze, "What's your name, kid?"

"I'm Alvin John," Tim says brightly, nudging Jason's side with a careful look, "What's your name?"

"How about your brother first?"

"...Thomas," Jason huffed.

"Why are you two out here all alone? Where are your parents?"

"We were out on a walk," Tim nods, "Don't worry, we're safe! Our mom is expecting us, so we should really be on our way."

"You still haven't told us your name," he interrupts.

"Bright kid! You'd be great if you smiled more," and Tim's hand tightening around his arm was the only thing keeping him from brandishing his pocket knife and pulling a Damian, "my name is Derick Gleisner."

"It was nice meeting you, Mister Gleisner," Tim smiles, "I hope you have a good day!"

"You too, kid."

Jason allows Tim to lead them into the crowd. The pair losing the eyes against their back before heading toward Jason's child hood home.

"Robert Shawn," Tim hisses, barely loud enough for Jason to hear, "arrested on account of human and drug trafficking. Batman will find him six days from now and turn him in to the GCPD."

"You want to use him?" Jason replied tightly.

Tim, to Jason's chagrin, nods, "It's the fastest way, short of breaking into the manor, which would just raise their suspicions. If you want to do this another way, I don't mind."

"You already have plans in place, don't you?" Jason groaned, swatting at Tim's arm with a tired sigh. Tim gives him a side-long look, and Jason's question was promptly answered.

They reached the house a minute later, and Jason pushes open the door with his spare key.

"Mom, I'm home!" he calls, freezing as he received no response, "...Mom?"

Tim freezes suspiciously beside him before cursing under his breath, "Jason!"

"What?" he snaps.

"You were here last time, right?" Tim says softly, "You were home."

Jason nods jerkily, dread pooling in his chest as he sees Tim's expression pinch in worry.

He tears away, the carpet bunching under his feet as he scrambles toward the kitchen.

"MOM?" he calls. She wasn't in the kitchen. Maybe her room? "MOM! MOM, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Jason shoves open the door, scrambling at the doorknob in his haste. He bursts in only to see Catherine slumped over on the floor.

This- this wasn't supposed to fucking happen yet! What the FUCK.

He screamed. His knees aching as he lunged forward to grapple with his mom's body. Her skin cold and limbs stiff- his mom- his mom.

Shit- what- this wasn't supposed to happen yet! It- it was august, she wasn't supposed to die until february. God DAMNIT.

"I've called the ambulance," Tim says from the doorway, "Jay..."

"Shut UP. SHUT. UP," Jason screams, shoving his forehead against chilled cold skin as hot tears burned against his eyes, "Mom...This- this wasn't supposed to happen yet! Tim- what- why?"

"It's... it's most likely because of the disparities between timelines," his brother says, somehow making his technical blabber sound fucking sympathetic, "i think in this timeline, since you weren’t here to stop whatever from happening…”

“…Fuck,” he hisses, flinching slightly as he hears sirens wail in the distance.

“Do you need some time alone?” Tim asks hesitantly.

Jason grits his teeth. He- he doesn’t want to leave her alone- but, but damnit, Tim. Knowing the stupid little fucker would skitter off and do something so utterlyfucking effective yet idiotic. He sucks in a breath, “Just- just give me a sec, kid. I- i need to say goodbye…”

“Okay. Take your time…”

-----

Part 1, 2, 4

and the directory

[objectsarebestest]

I’ve been struggling with this for a couple days now. I haven’t been ready to discuss it. But after a session with my therapist, I decided I think it would help to be open about what happened. To maybe seek support. Tw for object death

My bike is dead. I was riding it up a hill and the mechanism broke. I nearly fell off. I walked the bike back home. My dad took it to the bike repair shop. I didn’t come. I thought it would be an easy fix. My dad came back with no bike. He said the repair workers said it was unfixable. It had been thrown away. I wasn’t even there. In its final moments. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

We had such a close bond. Years of going on adventures together. But we weren’t close enough. Heck, I never even learned its name. I just referred to it as “the bike” or “my bike”. I never asked its name or helped it pick one out. I wish we could have been closer. Maybe we could have kissed. Yes, I didn’t even learn that I was attracted to it until it was far too late.

When the news broke, I tried to hurt myself. Banged my head against the bed frame. All I wanted to do was lie in bed. But I couldn’t. I had to pretend this was no big deal. If my family knew of the extent my POSIC+ experiences go to, I’m scared of how they would react. Tomorrow I have to go shopping for a new bike. I have to buy a replacement. And I have to pretend doing so doesn’t feel like getting stabbed.

I want to hold a vigil. I already prayed for my bike’s soul. But I want to give it a proper sendoff to whatever the object afterlife is. Whatever maze of sidewalks and forest trails and dirt roads lie beyond for it. I don’t know how to hold a vigil. I’ve done it before when my humidifier broke. And when my sandals got holes in them. I have experience. But I still never know what to do or what to say.

I feel ashamed to ask strangers on the internet for tips. It was my object companion. I should know how to honor it best. But I don’t want to bungle this. I want to do this properly. So please help. I need ideas to do this. Maybe it will bring me closure. Maybe I’ll feel happier. I just hope my bike will be happy.

[object-vault-9]

Object Anatomy

Since I mentioned the vault and stuff in detail why not ! Warning for: Blood/mild object gore in a simple diagram/etc , mentions of death, etc, brief mention of a parasite 100% SFW, save for the minor blood and death mentions And the science isn't super realistic because they're objects haha, I want it to be fun more than anything rather than have to completely rationalize how objects are sentient. They just are

Objects in the v9 verse are animated by basically a special blue substance we've just been calling "blood", it serves as not just blood but a general life force for an object. Like a living animal, an object needs to breathe, drink and eat to sustain themselves, and they can become ill ! Illnesses affect how functional their special blood is, which is why illness or infections have been deadly so far Anatomy wise, what makes up an object is the same as what makes up the real equivalent of them. So for example, Cornerstone is solid stone, To-Go is hollow and Nectarine has fruit flesh/a stone Objects don't have organs, their blood basically fullfills this role too, though some objects with more advanced components might have issues with a compotent that might cause them health issues. For example if Dive Light's battery were to corrode it could cause him long term health problems. If it couldn't be fixed, an artificial replacement (like hand making a battery the right size for him to replace it) could work

Objects can sometimes survive with suprising amounts of damage, even if parts of their bodies are missing orcompromised, but that is sometimes just luck. With treatment or good health, even severe physical ailments like Oxy's corrosion can be slowed, though she is helped by the foundation's advanced medicine. Bad Apple (a bandit from earlier weeks) wasn't handling his rot, which presented similarly to the corrosion, very well, and it spread between his appearances. For both though it cause them discomfort/pain/loss of function in afflicted body parts

While an object of course would die if completely destroyed, the sudden shock of a traumatic injury, especially if around a seemingly important part of them like their face or the core of the object, can also kill them

Even though objects are made of non-biological materials, they can still heal like a living creature, and even scar. Thats why though Kite has torn a few times the fabric has sealed back together, or Dive Light's gouge in the plastic remains. The materials from an object are often a little sturdier than their real equivalent too, though fragile objects are still more fragile than other types, like Tea Cup being prone to cracking Though because they may be hollow and stuff, things that might kill a person might not hurt an object as much. Impaling Kite hasn't scarred him yet Trauma to their bodies/limbs can still affect them after the injury has healed too, like Shovel's chronic arm pain They can't regrow their living features, like limbs or facial features. Some naturally growing objects (like Blue Spruce) can regrow missing features like when she regrew her needles after the fire, but Uranium Glass couldn't regrow the shard missing from the rim of her glass

Objects are basically completely sexless, though some might present ""gendered"" traits. Objects can also transition to different genders

When an object has a kid, the parents choose a small piece of an inanimate object to basically "link to". The more similar it is to the parents, the higher chance of success it is ! So for example, a Shovel is well inbetween a Trowel and a Rake and using the handle of one was a safe bet. Usually an object that is very similar to one parent, or an object that feels somewhere between both parents, is chosen.

The object is influenced by the parents, and fills out into a whole object. If using more than one shard, sometimes twins can occur, or if the linked piece breaks while developing, there could be identical twins ! An object may occassionally have traits from a parent that aren't common in the real version of it, like the hc that Apricot's leaves can cause irritation like his father Nettle, or a flower object having a different number of petals than the norm to match a parent.

They can also inherit facial features, like eyebrows/eye lashes/freckles/etc or color schemes Objects develop at the rate a human does, and in good health/circumstances live as long as a human is expected to too. Their size isn't 1:1 on real objects proportionally, which is why while Spruce is tall and Microchip is very small, they are both still closer to the range of object heights that are expected Also I just like to think even serious objects are inherently a little goofy and whimsical and stuff Thats all I can think of for now !

[rosjectum]

[icy-saturday]

“My time has come to ascend beyond this vessel, Fanny. I want you to have what is mine. The Number Room is yours to admire and study and the Arkship is yours to fly beyond the stars where you will find my spirit lie. Promise me, Fanny, that one day you will find me and greet me again, because I love you… more than any object could love the feeling of being alive.”

- Lüfter

[thygoodvibez]

I forgot to post the full photos, enjoy :]

[bluu3berry]

cw: gore

It loves bread :3