#whumpy au

[eightcure]

Some Danny phantom sketches for the void

[holy-mother-of-whumpers]

Tagging stuff on ao3 feels like the thing christians do alone with the priest... Yes father I put Odysseus on a leash... Again... Yes he's on his knees... Yes, again...

I REGRET NOTHING AND THE ONLY REASON I KNOW SHAME IS, IS THE VOCABULARY

[copper-caster]

I have been in the mood for some dark Transformers fic, and so far, the Transformers fanfics haven't offered me much. Until I happened to stumbled upon your Failsafe coding AU, which I know for sure I want to see this AU to be developed because it's both juicy and full of whump.

First, I would love to know how Megatron was in the situation of being a Gladiator slave in the first place. I imagine Megatron, original was a miner in D-16 who worked with other miner fellows, and one of them was Terminus being his caretaker/creator. It was a tough job and tough life, but they still earned enough to get the basic necessity for their lives. Until one day, the mine that they were working at was collapsed, resulting in the mine getting shut down and the miners losing their jobs. Unfortunately for D-16, Terminus was severely injured due to the mine incident, and they basically couldn't afford any medical care to cure his injured. Then, he met some bots offering him to work as a Gladiator in this one seemingly legal arena with a hefty amount of shanix that was enough to pay for his caretaker' medical bill, so he agreed to the offer, without realizing he was trafficking himself to be the property of the arena (I'm thinking about D-16 signed a shady contract that basically tricked him to be in debt through additional fees/services provided for him when he worked at the arena, and he had to pay back those fees plus very high interests. Also, if he loses a match, he has to pay for that loss. So you can imagine the arena master did everything to sabotage him and slowly trap him and threaten him to comply with their demands, leading of current situation of him). This is my idea for this AU, but I would love to hear your ideas for Megatron's background.

Second, I can't help but wonder what would happen to Orion Pax when he got caught and became the victim of trafficking. I know his face got very damaged due to the attack from Megatron's losing control, and may be his current owner did consider to put him through empurata and reduced him to a breeding slave. However, what if the reason why Orion Pax got discovered being a mole is because the current owner of Orion had taken into liking him when Orion still pretended to be the eye candy of any random Senator at these deranged party? Probably, this mech wanted to approach Orion but got rejected by him, which was a serious misstep from Orion Pax. So this mech (either a ring leader of Outlier trafficking organization or one of the rich clients) decided to dug into Orion's personal life like a creeping stalker he was, and he finally found out about Orion's real identity... which led to Orion getting exposed and well, becoming the trafficked mech like other Outliers and activists. So after Orion got ravaged by Megatron as spectacle for the deranged and vile beings (including a bunch of corrupted senators and governors), Orion got auctioned off and get bought by the same mech that exposed him being a mole. The Orion's master at first, seeing how Orion's face got almost destroyed, decided to reduce him just a breeding slave so no need to get him a new face. However, this deranged master also missed Orion's handsome face and his beautiful optics full of fire and defiance and he enjoyed to see Orion's faceplate when he broke him down into an hopeless and defeated cage bird. So he decided to fix Orion Pax's face once he birthed his and Megatron's first child. Though, when his face was fixed, Orion was forced to have a retractable facemask to hide his identity (but mostly to tempt the clients to pay extra fees if they wanted to his face in a private setting. Plus, the owner was possessive of Orion's pretty face). This is what I come up and I would love to see your ideas of what happened to Orion Pax when he became the trafficked mech or how he got discovered.

I actually would like to come up with more details of Orion's predicaments and hellhole conditions as being a trafficked mech. I wonder if you would have him just being a breeder or him being prostituted by his owner. Also, would love to see or imagine how he interacted with Starscream and other trafficked mechs. Do you know who else was being enslaved under the owner.

Awwwwwwwww i really love this what a great first ask for this blog

I'll give a little response here while I'm figuring out some world building stuff, im not gonna be shy about my influences & thinking about Gladiators stuff is making me want to rewatch some documentaries on Rome & also this https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL0GHjKMoz98-cIDeNe9pngGKR-6lseGvr animatic series

The great thing about fiction is even if you're inspired by history is you can also just make shit up still i want to scratch that nerd itch so there's going to be Gladiator schools & taking from some naval history like a lot of mechs are pressganged into stuff

First of all i like the idea of D-16 being made during the gorilla fighting that eventually drove off the Quintesson occupation, his alt form is first and foremost a gun, tho in this it's more like Black Rock Shooters massive arm canon that has to be wielded by another bot,

As for his history we could take some inspiration from Spartacus & say that he was accused of deserting & that's how he ends up in a miner's chaingang

Lots of warframes end up going through something similar since the ruling classes/casts are firm believers in religious functionalism & think that the warframes will just fight constantly if they aren't tightly leashed

The gladiatorial rings were something introduced to Cybertron during the occupation with the Quintessons using them much the way the romans did, to execute criminals & entertain/threaten the masses, shipping in animals from distant planets & such to tear the sentenced apart, then they started training/designing their own executioners after exhausting the predatory fauna of numerous worlds (fun fact rome nearly drove lions to extinction in several places), leading to the system of gladiators & there being less death in the ring if no less bloodshed because who wants to destroy their bespoke killing machines, the general populace begin to associate these mech with the Unmaker maybe some of them begin to venerate the Fallen as a cultic figure, here using the roman meaning of cult/cultic etc, patron of the ring

Maybe D-16 was originally destined for one of these Gladiator schools being a custom commission but was stolen by a gorilla resistance & that's how he ended up as part of the resistance, regardless he meets Terminus in the mines & that's a strong influence on him

He ends up in the ring having been sentenced to execution idk why yet but probably for defending another miner from an overseer, but against all odds he survives the fight, "I Still Function!" & he ends up being sold to a school despite ostensibly having won his freedom yet again. The other gladiators induct him into the cult & over time begin to venerate him, which the Managers of the school catch wind of & give him the stage name Megatronus after the Fallen which he shortens to Megatron, 'come see the gladiator blessed by the Unmaker himself' etc etc.

Orion gets found out as a mole because the Senator that Shockwave coerced into getting Orion into the private parties sold them out. Which is also how Senator Shockwave gets empurata'd because the traffickers have sponsors from the council. But i love the idea of other party goers harassing Orion. These things are always masquerades with bots wearing masks/battlemasks & holographic clothing to disguise themselves, in this verse bots can change their colours nanites at will if they have enough energon to spare which adds a layer to their disguises. Bots will often dress up as historical or mythological figures so Orion gets dressed up as a mini Prima. Which definitely caught the eye of the trafficker since he's playing up Megatron's status as a cultic figure to make him more appealing/unique to the high cast bots hiring him for the party.

I haven't worked out how exactly i want cybertronian reproduction to work yet but there's definitely multiple ways a bot can be born with pregnancy being highly risky & very rare.

At first Orion is being housed/moved with Starscream but once the sparklings are born and sent off to their new owners. The manager started bidding on the sparklings as soon as they confirmed it had taken at the party. They get separated & Orion gets subjected to training so he can put up some mock fight before he gets fucked six ways to sunday at the next party. He also gets /trained/ on how to please the party goers beforehand. I can definitely see the tracker prostituting Orion out where he wouldn't be as willing to do so with his high value Outlier stock. It's through tracking sightings of Orion that Jazz, Blaster, & Prowl are able to close in on the trafficking ring.

I haven't come up with who else has been disappeared yet tbh.

But if you like my plot bunny i can definitely recommend blogs like @yayasvalveplay , @transingthoseformers , & @brandwhorestarscream (i hope they don't mind me tagging them lol)

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

Hello, can I please ask more about your doom patrol/titans fic because 👀👀👀

Oh hey!! Yessssss pls ask I love that AU so much omg

BASICALLY it was riffing off the idea that Jason's death and his resurrection would get Niles Caulder's attention because of his search for immortality.

I wasn't thrilled with how Titans dealt with Jason's death (or the Red Hood arc tbh) so I kind of scrapped it completely and substituted in the lost days era from the comics for the AU, but with an additional canon divergence in the Doom Patrol/Titans canon where Gar stays behind at Doom Manor instead of following Raven to the Titans (because to be completely honest, I thought Gar was really sweet and I wanted to see him and Jason have an actual relationship outside of whatever was going on in Titans) (which is why that post is so funny to me, because yeah I literally stole Gar from Dick's Titans team so that he and Jason could hang out).

And then it kind of just... snowballed from there?? I figured that the Chief would have the skill and the means to heal Jason from his 'catatonia' (not sure if that's the medically accurate term but yknow what i mean), but it would be kind of a slower process based on how he fixed Cliff in the show. So the AU is a lot of Gar helping Jason as he heals, comes back to himself, and regains more of his personality/memories/abilities (though of course there are still scars and challenges and all that). Meanwhile Gar is learning, growing, becoming less sheltered, and kind of just... expanding his creativity as he learns more and more about Jason. It's very much a mutual exchange (and I figured they might kiss about it eventually, but who knows XD). And then the addition of Jason and Gar to Doom Manor would shift and change the Doom Patrol canon a bit (I was thinking it would mostly be a season 1 AU where Mr. Nobody is the big bad, but all the events get shifted/tweaked because of the teenagers).

Anyway! I've been back and forth a million times about what kind of POV i wanted for this one, but I think eventually I decided to use an epistolary style from Gar's POV as if he's writing in a journal? So like:

But yeah!! I hope I'm making sense omg it's still early in the morning and I haven't been awake very long 😂

[kingsnake101]

I had an idea for a FS/LU au a while back and wrote a little intro for it! Spoilers for Four swords adventures probably

Characters: Green, Red, Vio, Blue, Ganon

TWs: imprisonment, mind control, blood, injury

Green stared at the plain, lichen-stained bricks, counting them for what must have been the hundredth time. Anything to distract him from the sobbing boy curled up against his side. Green gave Red a half-hearted squeeze. He had given up on trying to cheer up his brother long ago. All he could offer now was a shoulder to cry on.

They had been appointed as smiths for Ganon's new kingdom. They were given two meals a day, a workshop, and two cots with megar blankets.

The second cot had barely been touched since they arrived. Although it was irrational, Green couldn't help but fear that his brother would disappear the moment they let go of each other. He knew Red felt the same.

“At least we have each other,” Green mused. Vio and Blue weren't that lucky. Neither of them had seen Blue since they were captured, and whenever Vio visited it wasn't really Vio. Thoughtful purple eyes were clouded over by an opaque red. Red still believed that Vio was in there, and maintained the hope that maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could break through the spell. Green knew better. Ganon was smart. If Vio was in there, he was buried deep. Their meager connection told him that Blue was upstairs somewhere, and absolutely furious most of the time. The times when he wasn't was when Green worried most.

Green had been mad at Link in the beginning. As time went on, however, he began to realize the futility of it all. Red didn't blame Link, because of course he wouldn't. Eventually, the anger faded and melted into the endless void of numb sorrow.

Red let out a few soft sniffles, having finally cried himself to sleep. Green sighed softly, shifting until he was able to lower Red onto the cot. He needed to finish an order of moblins spears. When he tried to stand, the hand on his arm tightened.

“D’nt leave…” Red mumbled, tears slipping down his cheeks. Green glanced to the workshop, then back to his brother. With a sigh, he lowered himself back onto the cot. Red was already back asleep by the time he brought the blanket over the both of them. Green would just have to finish the spears in the morning.

Late that night, something strange happened. A boy dressed in red shook his brother awake, pointing to a glowing portal in the middle of the workshop.

A boy in blue spat blood onto the arena sand, glaring up at his monstrous audience. Ganon only smiled cruelly, raising his hand to signal the next wave of monsters. The gate began to screech open.

The boy in blue braced himself, only to feel a rush of strange magic appear behind him. He spun to face it, snarl turning to shock when he came face to face with a divine portal. A grin split his bloody face. 

The boy wasted no time. His raised middle fingers lingered when he disappeared into the portal.

A boy in purple walked along empty halls, back straight and eyes glowing red. He carried a set of four identical swords. His eyes widened ever so slightly when the floor disappeared underneath him, and within seconds, he was gone. The portal winked out of existence after him.

Explanation: A few months after FSA (I'm basing this off the manga), Link got really lonely and depressed. In desperation, he pulled the four sword, thus releasing Ganon. Ganon kidnapped the colors and put them in the predicaments you see here. Shadow is dormant for now...

Let me know what you think! This won't become a full work, but I might post some snippets. Feel free to ask me any questions about it or write something in this universe! I think I'm going to call it Four Swords Revival AU.

[squidkid15]

Babe wake up new/old AU dropped.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

I am praying to the whump gods that this is from a draft and therefore might be posted at some point in the future

Update: It was me. I made the tag.

[rhiandoesfandom]

He's a nervous bean :)

Little pic of Blitz in the first chapter of my stolitz whump fic that I am having a very hard time writing lol. I'm sure it will be ready and able to post soon!

Enjoy!

[snail-studios]

Could you tell us a little bit about the magic system works in the karate/apocalypse au? Any specific powers? Zelda's power especially sounds... interesting...

um........i think it works about the same in botw but wth some extra details to make it more interesting (for me!). Mipha's healing magic takes up a lot of energy and calories like how i usually think of it, and Zelda's sealing magic imbues her with a magical energy but makes her feel genuinely crap for the first couple times she used it, like caffeine withdrawal symptoms but a lot worse.

i think, since zelda's magic is divine and it gives her power, whereas mipha is literally giving her life force to her patient, they have very different symptoms. The first time she heals someone it's a near-fatal injury, and after that she's completely knocked out, feverish & delirious and then just extremely tired and grouchy. for smaller things like semi-serious cuts and other injuries she gets pretty much no side affects but yeah! it's a dangerous thing for her to save people's lives up until she gets stronger and learns better methods of healing!

So Zelda can purify zombies by expelling the malice from them, but this doesn't bring them back to life. they die, but get to stay corpses (YAY 🥳🥳🥳).

That's kind of all I've been thinking about but I'm really enjoying all these questions so send them my way!!

[tashacee]

It’s safe to say that everyone in the chain has ptsd or trauma of some sort right? I’m thinking about hero’s aspect!Wild having a nightmare and screaming and talking and begging in his sleep and he can’t wake, and the chain has no idea what he’s even experiencing because they can’t understand him

-🪱

OH BOY I know i kind of touched on this in the original Fic, but hell, Worm Anon, you gave me Brain Worms.

Aspects of A Nightmare

He'd been with them for two weeks. Long enough that the chain was starting to feel like they were getting to know him - or at least getting used to him - but not really long enough that they could communicate with Wild in any sort of meaningful way.

It grated. Warriors was a leader of men, 'The Captain', always in control, who prided himself on being able to relate to those he served with. Sure, he wasn't in the army now and his brothers were anything but soldiers, but still. The point was, he liked to know the people he was fighting with, and despite his best efforts he just didn't know Wild.

It was easy to ignore most of the time. Ah, yes, that was Wild. He likes to cook, fights like a maniac, and will straight up pick you up if you're being annoying.

Sometimes, though, their lack of communication was all too obvious.

Like tonight. Wars was on second watch when he heard it. Wild, but not his customary rumble or the soft purrs he made in his sleep. A whine, long and low and distressed. Like a call for help.

Wars dashed over to him, wondering if somehow a monster had invaded the camp while he was turned the other way, but no.

As usual, Wild was sleeping with Wind cuddled up beside him. While their newest brother's blanket was thin and ratty, barely big enough to cover his massive form, Wind's was vast, more than big enough for the both of them.

Wild had somehow gotten himself tangled up in the blanket as he slept. Wars could see him trying to lift his arms, move his legs, but to no avail. He whined in his sleep, the sound pitiful and terrified.

Warriors didn't know what he was dreaming of. Nothing good, that was for sure, especially if it had to do with his current trapped position.

Wild tried to thrash again, and still stuck, he whined.

Wars bent down. Normally waking up a hero was something best done from a distance. They could be a violent lot, especially when woken from nightmares, but. Well.

It wasn't like Wild could move enough to do anything.

Wars gently touched his shoulder and shook him awake. Wild's eyes flew open in a flash, and as expected he bared his teeth, snarling. Not particularly intimidating, though, given that he was currently a giant cat-burrito.

"Hey." Warriors whispered, glancing over at where Wind was somehow still asleep. "You were having a nightmare."

Wild blinked, coming back to himself, and then looked down at the sheets. As if reassuring himself that it was just a blanket. That his nightmare wasn't real.

He whimpered, a low grumbling noise almost as if he was attempting speech. Then he sniffed and began to wiggle out of the blankets. Wars helped him untangle himself, and then guided his massive brother over to the fire.

"It's okay." he said, not knowing if it was true or not. He didn't know what Wild had been dreaming about, after all. It was hard to comfort someone when you didn't know what you were comforting them about. "It- it's over now."

Wild fixed his gaze on him, his lower lip trembling. He made a few more of those almost-word-mostly-grumbles before his face just. Crumpled. Here he was, this massive, musclebound lion man, dissolving into tears.

And Warriors? Warriors froze. He wasn't proud of it, and it was only for a second, but he froze.

Wild was big. He was strong. When Wars shot him through the shoulder the other day he barely flinched. But whatever that nightmare must have been about, it must have been truly, unrelentingly terrible. Warriors could scarcely imagine what could be so horrible that it made someone as big and strong as Wild sob.

Then his body kicked into action. Like waking them up, giving heroes unexpected hugs could go very badly, but Warriors was on autopilot. He gathered Wild into his arms (well, as best he could, with the height difference) and pulled him into a hug, stroking his hair and rubbing the fur on his back.

Wild sobbed into his chest, twisting his hands into his tunic. He may have tried to communicate again, but honestly, Warriors found it hard to distinguish from the sobs and he sort of hated himself for that. He wanted to talk to Wild. He needed to know what had hurt him so very badly, what had taken his arm and left him scarred and sobbing in a strange place in a strange time. He need to know so that he could go and fight it, make it pay for hurting his brother.

But he couldn't do that. So he did the next best thing. He held his brother as he cried, and helped him dry his tears when he finally calmed down. He made him a cup of tea and sat with him until his hands stopped shaking enough that he was ready to go back to bed.

Warriors knew next to nothing about Wild.

But by Hylia, he would do anything to learn.

[benevolenterrancy]

Do any NieYao (or general 3zun) shippers follow me? I've been tossing around the idea of a nieyao fic but I'm getting tripped up by timeline shit because good lord JGY's life is a nightmare... is there anyone who wouldn't mind either:

a) chatting with me about timeline/canon stuff to help me get sorted

b) sending me recs of their favourite nieyao fics 👀 for, uh, strictly research related purposes for sure for sure

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 14: Left for Dead

"'Cause I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted" -tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn

2367 Words; Divergent AU

TW for attempted emotional manipulation (pythor)

AO3 ver

The ocean was just as blue looking from sandy shores as it was looking from the lighthouse.

Well, no, not exactly the same—it was much closer, now, the sense of distance he was so used to gone. But the white-capped blue looked almost the same as ever, so he turned his attention to the rest of the beach behind him. To the trees further on, and the jungle further beyond that.

Cole—the bulkier of the two humans who had found him—and Morro—the human with the green streak in his hair—had disappeared into the trees a while ago to check on something. This left him with Pythor—the Serpentine, a species that he had never seen before—who had taken to lying on a particularly warm boulder higher up on the shore, eyes closed.

It was… it was all so new.

(“Do you want to leave?” Morro had asked, after Cole and Pythor had—with his instruction—helped get his leg and arm working again.

He had. He wanted to leave so badly.)

His name… Father had named him Zane, but when he had proclaimed that to the group, they had all exchanged looks he couldn’t decipher. Cole in particular had looked at him so strangely, and kept tripping over his name, like something was knotted up in his mouth. That was new, too.

But the group’s boat had ferried them westwards to this island—not the mainland Father had once lived on, which was to the east of the lighthouse—and Cole and Morro had disappeared behind the treeline fairly quick, leaving Zane and Pythor behind.

He ambled over to Pythor, careful of the shifting sand beneath his feet. His joints creaked, not particularly happy with the boat trip and the sea air, but they didn’t give out. He poked Pythor’s head, and waited for a response.

Nothing. He poked the white-splattered scales again, and Pythor grumbled. Violet eyes opened barely a crack, squinting blearily up at him. “Oh, what do you want now?” Pythor demanded, rolling his tail over slightly. “I can’t entertain you all day, you know—these tired old bones need their rest.”

Zane considered his words, mulling them over. Pythor’s eyes slipped closed, a low hiss escaping his mouth like a sigh, and Zane spoke.

“Does my name bother you?” Well, Pythor had seemed more surprised than bothered, but he surely knew Cole better than Zane did, and would be able to remedy any confusion.

Pythor’s eyes opened again. “What?”

“Does my name bother you?” Zane repeated, like he would for when Father didn’t quite hear him, or forgot the question. Then, after a moment, he started to elaborate, “When I introduced myself, you all looked at me funny—”

“Yes, yes, I heard you the first time.” Pythor held up a hand. He hmmed, his head lifting up to regard Zane more closely. “As for your question… not particularly.” He answered, lazily waving his hand. “I find it more ironic, maybe even amusing.” His head fell back to the rock, his eyes starting to close—

“Does my name bother Morro?” Zane asked, no less confused than before. “And why do you find my name ‘ironic’?”

Pythor stared at him reproachfully. “My, you ask a lot of questions.”

“It is part of my purpose, so that I can help aid Father’s memory.” Zane stated. “Does my name—”

“I wouldn’t know.” Pythor shrugged, cutting Zane off. “You’d have to ask the boy yourself.” He sat up a bit, readjusting to bring his tail around in front of him so that he could rest his neck upon the coil. “As for why your name is ironic—well, it really only makes it clear that you’re a copy.”

“I do not understand.”

Pythor chuckled lowly. “I imagine you wouldn’t.” He yawned, then spoke again. “Tell me, did this Father of yours ever mention any other… children, of his? Other creations, other sons?” He sounded lightly amused, though Zane wasn’t sure why.

Zane took a moment to think over his answer. “He would often tell me of his time on the mainland,” he started, “but he never mentioned any other sons. Why?” Well, no, Father had once mentioned having a son, but always brushed it off or insisted that Zane was his son, his only son.

Pythor grinned. It was slightly unsettling. “You really don’t know?” He reared up, neck twisting to bring his head closer to Zane’s. “You’re not the original Zane.” He crowed, looking Zane up and down, “You’re clearly just the copy cobbled together from scraps.” At once, his pleased demeanor vanished, replaced with something more sympathetic. “I imagine your Father must have been lonely, in that lighthouse. No wonder he rebuilt the son he loved so much.”

Now it was Zane’s turn to be perplexed. Thrown, even. “What…?”

Pythor reached over, patting Zane’s shoulder. “I’ve met him, you know. The first Zane. Fought him, even.” His eyes slipped closed in remembrance, “Ohhh, it was certainly a time. You know, I didn’t even know he was a nindroid until… hmm… I suppose it must have been sometime after being swallowed by the Great Devourer.”

“Nindroid?” Zane asked, feeling incredibly lost. Then, discarding the term as unimportant—“What do you mean, anoth—an original Zane? I’m Zane.”

Pythor hmmed, tapping his claws against Zane’s shoulder. “A copy.” He declared. “Made of scrap and abandoned when the original came along—”

Zane punched out, knocking himself over. Sand caught in the cracks and seams of his back as he got back up, and Pythor stared at him.

Zane decided he didn’t like the serpent. He opened his mouth—to say what, he didn’t even know—

“What the fuck are you doing, you old bag of scales?” And there was Cole and Morro, slightly muddy from their trek, coming out of the treeline. “You said you would watch the boat!”

Pythor pointed out to shore. “Well, it’s not like it’s gone… any… where…” He trailed off as he realized what Cole and Morro had already noticed: the boat was gone, the tide higher than it had been when they arrived. “Hm.” Pythor looked at Cole, then shrugged. “Well, it’s not my fault you didn’t haul it in far enough—”

“Pythor is a liar.” Zane stated, uncaring of the current conversation. “He’s been saying that I’m—that there’s—he says there’s another Zane!”

At once, Cole froze, eyes wide. Morro shuffled off to the side, and Pythor laid his head back down on the rock. “I—” Cole started, jaw working, then, “I’m sorry.”

That… no. No no no, why was Cole acting like Pythor was right—

“You… knew?” Zane asked. The world seemed to tilt, but that didn’t make sense—his body hadn’t moved at all, and was still standing perpendicular to the ground.

“Why, of course!” Pythor interjected, “He and Zane are—or were, I suppose—the best of friends! Brothers, even.”

“Pythor.” Cole growled, “shut up.” He turned back to Zane. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to say it—”

“To say what? That I’m just the replacement?” Zane demanded. Then, against his better judgment, he asked, “What is the other me like? Is he…” So many different questions flashed through his processors, and he settled on, “Is he better than me?”

“Absolutely not,” Morro cut in, from somewhere behind Zane. “Look, as someone who’s older than Pythor, and thus wiser—”

“You are not older than me!” Pythor argued, only to snap his mouth shut when Cole gave him a look.

“—take it from me.” Morro continued, “You’re not him.” He looked Zane up and down. “Pythor’s full of it.” He added, and Zane opened his mouth to ask what Pythor was supposedly full of—

“You are like him.” Cole said, the look in his eyes similar to Father’s eyes when he reminisced about the mainland. “But you’re also different.”

“You mean worse.” Zane accused.

Cole shook his head. “No,” he said, voice hard, “You’re… you, and that’s not a bad thing.” He sighed. “None of us knew.” He said. “When we found Professor Julien at the lighthouse, he never mentioned—” He cut himself off, looking at Zane with something an awful lot like sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“You… were there?” Cole had been in the group that had taken Father away, that had left Zane behind—

“Yeah, yeah, so Rusty here was made because Snowball’s dad was lonely, whatever.” Morro slung his arm over Zane’s shoulders. “You’re not gonna be stuck in Snowball’s shadow, okay?” He nodded, “I’ll make sure of it.”

Zane shrugged Morro’s arm off of his shoulders. “I don’t want—I just—don’t call me rusty.” It was true, he was rusted at parts, thanks to the sea air, but—it felt like an insult. He bet the other Zane wasn’t rusty.

Wait. “The other Zane…” Zane started, “Is he mechanical?” Or was he flesh and blood, like Father, and Zane was simply made in his image?

“He was just as mechanical as you even before he blew himself up.” Pythor answered. Cole glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender. “All right, shutting up now.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Cole groused. “He’s him, and you’re you. Neither of you is better than the other.” He turned to where the boat had been, and changed the subject. “Well, we’re stuck here until we build a raft. Do we start right away, or do we wanna continue,” He gestured towards Zane, “figuring this out?”

Zane would have crossed his arms if his joints allowed it. Truthfully, he didn’t exactly want to go out to sea again so soon—but he wanted to think about this new revelation even less. He was angry—but at what, he wasn’t sure.

“Well, if I can’t call you Rusty,” Morro started, “How about Copper?”

“Too close to cop.” Pythor shot it down. “Why not Echo? Since he’s a copy, and all.”

“Absolutely not.” Cole cut in, then turned to Zane. “What do you want to be called?”

Zane had no idea. “My name is Zane.” He stated. “I’ve never had another.” He frowned. “But I don’t want to just be… his copy.” His name was Zane, but that name bothered Cole—and was starting to feel weird, to Zane.

“It won’t be replacing your name.” Cole said softly. “It’ll just be a nickname. Like Breezy.” He gestured at Morro, who huffed.

“Or Dirtclod,” Morro added, gesturing to Cole.

“I… I think I would like a nickname.” Zane agreed. He didn’t want to give up his name, the one that Father had given him—

(“Zane is my son,” He’d say, though now Zane wondered if Father had only been talking about the other Zane—)

—But he didn’t want to be called by it until he met the other Zane, and convinced him to take another name. If this other Zane was so great, he could surely bear to part with his name. Of course, that plan necessitated meeting him, which… Zane wasn’t sure he wanted to do.

“I don’t know what, though.” Zane added. How was he supposed to pick a nickname?

“Gold, maybe.” Morro suggested. “Because you’re not gonna be second best to that goody-two-shoes.”

“Why not Pyrite?” Pythor suggested. “It sounds similar to pyro, setting you apart from him and his ice powers.”

“His… what?” Ice powers? Like the way Morro had bent the wind to his control to power their boat’s sail?

“We are not naming him for fool’s gold—” Cole interjected—

“Lux, since he grew up in a lighthouse.” Morro suggested.

“I—” Zane started, as they continued listing potential names.

“Junior, he’s the younger Za—” Pythor suggested, as Cole grabbed him by the neck. “Ack—!”

“Cole, you’re the mineral nerd, is there another word for gold?” Morro asked.

Cole, still holding Pythor’s neck, rattled off several words, ignoring the way Pythor was hissing at him. “Uhh, aurum, I think, oro, kin—”

“STOP!” Zane yelled, bringing everything to a screeching halt. “Please, just—let me think.”

They stopped. Cole let go of Pythor’s neck, and Morro scuffed his shoes on the sand.

“I think… I want to be called Echo.” He said. “Not because I am a copy, but because… I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I was built to remember the things that Father could not.” He had been alone in that lighthouse but for Tai-D for so long, slowly rusting apart as he waited for something to change. “Nobody should be alone.” He decided. “So I will be the echo that reminds them they are not.”

“Okay.” Cole agreed. “Echo it is, then.”

Echo nodded. Echo. Echo. He liked the way that sounded. He was still Zane, of course, but now he was also Echo.

Pythor grinned, quite pleased with himself. “Let it be known that I suggested that name—” He started—

“Let it be known that you lost our boat.” Morro interjected. “Of course, it’s what we get for entrusting it with someone too young to handle the responsibility—”

Echo watched as Pythor and Morro launched into a full argument, Pythor lunging at Morro and the two of them starting to tumble around in the sand. It wasn’t quite the same as how they had bickered on the boat ride here—in fact, it was much louder.

Cole watched them fight for a moment, then sighed heavily. He turned to Echo. “Let’s get started on that raft.” He suggested. “While they get sand up their asses.” He added drily. “Does that sound good, Echo?”

Echo nodded. He had never built a raft before! “Yes, let us. You will have to show me how.”

A gust of wind-blasted sand hit the spot where Echo was moments before, and Cole, holding Echo in the air as though he weighed very little, walked back several paces. “Oh.” Echo commented, as Cole set him down out of the blast zone. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Cole mumbled, already moving towards the trees. Echo trailed after him, eager to see how building a raft worked.

He was out of the lighthouse, and ready to see the world Father had described to him. There was so much he still didn’t know—and someone he wished he’d never learned about, and did not want to think about right now—

But he would make it work. He was no longer alone, after all.

[havendance]

I periodically get the urge to write self-indulgent whump fics instead of chewy intertextual fics but all of my self-indulgent whump ideas are parts of elaborate AUs built up over months of daydreaming and it’s far too much time and effort to convert them into something I could actually write when I could instead be using that time and effort to write chewy fics about comics women.

[huffle-dork]

Whumptober Day 11: Seeing Double

Thought I’d draw the first time Alt ever met another Anti! As in Inverted Anti! :D You can read the scene this is from here! So funny to look back at these now that me and Cry RP our blorbos together now- this was kinda the beginning!

Also rip Alt he’s so short XD he got that t-boy swag!

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Me: *has almost 20 wips and wip ideas*

Brain: …

STAR WARS AU

[izloveshorses]

Remind Me

ao3

It was even darker down here, but once her eyes adjusted she could just make out the silhouette of his profile. She rushed down as fast as she dared, needing to make sure she wasn’t just seeing what she wanted to see.

“Dmitry?”

“Hey,” he croaked. She reached him, kneeling beside him, touching his face. Her eyes adjusted more to see his lips pulling at the corners. His face, though caked in a layer of dust, was, as always, too handsome and smug for his own good. “You okay?”

The question was so ridiculous coming from him she wanted to laugh. “Can you move?”

“I’m a bit stuck,” he said, the sound of metal creaking and fabric shifting.

She could make out jagged masses around them, stone and concrete and steel, the bones of the building exposed. The fact that he hadn’t been crushed— that neither of them had been crushed, really— was probably a miracle. But she probably shouldn’t speak too soon.

read on ao3!