#tw mentions of experimentation

[starry-bi-sky]

Becoming Phantom - Clone^2 (and by extension, clone danny)

I said I would make it, and so i did! Here's a little ficlet of how danny became Phantom - the human ghost-fighting vigilante in the clone^2 and clone Danny au. Since this does include themes of dissection/vivisection, i'll put in a minor trigger warning list down below.

TW: experimentation - implied torture and vivisection/dissection of ghosts TW: Non-graphic mentions of injuries and blood

TLDR: Danny's parents have been catching ghosts ever since the portal was opened after Danny's lab accident. Danny knows this because he can hear them screaming from the basement. After finally telling his friends about it, he resolves to free the ghosts - and he does. He ends up having a conversation with one of the ghosts, and comes to the decision that he will catch ghosts before his parents do to prevent this kind of harm from happening again.

word count check: 4.9k

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

His parents caught another ghost.

Danny can tell because he can hear their screaming from the kitchen, even with the doors closed. It's horrific - the voice is doubled over itself like something out of one of Sam's demonic horror movies, and Danny's heart races like he's run a mile at the sound.

It warps and twists, and almost sounds like its saying 'please.'

He rubs his chest uncomfortably, and pushes his breakfast away from him. His appetite lost and his stomach churning with a deep sense of dread.

Across the table, Jazz notices, and her eyes narrow dangerously at his hand gripping his shirt - right over his heart. He just got out of the hospital last month, and he knows what she's thinking - they don't want to have to send him back.

"I'm fine." He blurts out immediately, dropping his hand. He's not fine, but it's because he feels ill as the lights above flicker and another terrified shriek echoes through the floorboards. He swallows, ill. "I- it's just-" his eyes flick to the door to the lab. "the lab."

Jazz's lips press into thin line, and she pushes her chair back and stands up. "I hate that they're doing this," she says, stomping towards the lab. "It's inhumane, Danny. They're people too, even if they don't look like us!"

Before the portal, Danny might've just shrugged his shoulders and not said anything. He never really cared about his parents' ghost hunting stuff, but figured that since they knew more about it, their rants about them being unfeeling were correct.

Now, though? When he's been woken up in the middle of the night by the house rattling and his ears ringing with the pained cries of one of the ghosts' in the basement? His heart beating so fast he thinks he's been transported back to the lab a month ago, lying on the floor after being electrocuted by the portal?

He's really not so sure anymore. And he thinks he's starting to agree with Jazz. This isn't right. He doesn't think so, at least.

An unsure 'hm' comes out of his throat, eyes tracking Jazz as she swings the heavy metal door open and breathes in deep. "HEY!" She yells, her voice miraculously sounding out over the ghost screaming. The screams stop. "MOM! DAD! CUT THAT OUT, YOU'RE SCARING DANNY!"

There's no sound, and Danny sighs a breath of relief. Not that it does much to slow his anxious heart, the shrieks are burned into his ears, and he's already thinking about leaving now rather than later. He can meet Tucker at his house.

His parents - his mom, actually - appears at the entrance to the lab, her hands drip bright, ectoplasm green, and there's splatters of it across the front of her suit and goggles like blood. Danny feels white in the face, and Jazz looks enraged.

Mom pulls off her goggles, frowning apologetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your father and I just got carried away, we caught this one just this morning by the park." She says, as if that makes it any better. Danny's eyes are glued to the ectoplasm dripping onto the floor. "We'll wait until you get to school."

Danny wishes they wouldn't do this at all. But he just nods mutely, unable to make his lead-heavy tongue do anything. Jazz speaks for him, and whirls on mom like a tornado about to break loose. "At school? This shouldn't be happening at all - it's wrong, mom!"

Jazz has been the only one vocal about this whole thing ever since mom and dad came home with a ghost trapped in one of their nets - their thermos wasn't working - while Danny was on sick leave after he got out of the hospital. Danny still remembers the utter shock he was in after mom and dad came in dragging it behind them.

The ghost looked like a grown woman, but it - she - had the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen, and ice-like skin. She'd been thrashing in the net, saying something in a hissy, whispering language that made static build behind his eyes. It had surprised him that he could somewhat make out what she was saying.

It had been fascinating. Up until the screaming started.

He watches Mom make a face that looks like endeared annoyance, and she turns to Jazz with a light sigh. "You're a kind girl, Jazz, but ghosts aren't human, sweetheart. We've told you this." And they have, multiple times. It's become a reoccurring argument.

"Does it matter?!" Jazz exclaims, her cheeks turning an inflamed red with indignancy. She looks appalled. "They're still in pain! You're hurting them!"

Danny silently nods, but they don't see. Jazz is glaring at mom with the burning anger of the sun and Mom just looks exasperated. "Your father and I know this already, Jazmine." Mom says, her arms crossing across her chest.

Jazz's mouth drops open.

Danny's almost does the same. The bone-chilling blood rush leaves him shivering, and his vision spots out in black, fuzzy dots for a few seconds. Maybe, he thinks, it's his heart stopping again with the cold horror.

They know this?

They know this?

And they're still doing it?

He thought he knew his parents - now he's second-guessing himself.

Jazz is just as much at a loss for words as Danny is. And then her expression shutters closed with a fury-kind of icy. "Danny," she says, still staring down their mom. "Go get your stuff, I'm driving you to school."

Normally, he hates how.. parent-y Jazz gets. She acts like a second mom, and like a helicopter one to boot. It drives him nuts on the worst of days. Right now though, he's already rising to his feet before he's even opening his mouth.

"Okay." He croaks, and beelines it up the stairs for his backpack. He doesn't look at mom when he comes back down, he doesn't think he can. He can see her still-dripping hands in the corner of his eye though.

------

"Man, you look like shit." Tucker says the moment Danny sits down in their homeroom class, he's frowning. Danny doesn't say anything to him, he just grunts and drops his head into his arms.

Sam, sitting behind Danny, leans across the aisle and smacks Tucker in the arm. He yelps in pain, and rubs the spot she hit with a glare. "He's right though," Sam says, leaning over his shoulder. "You looked like you were gonna yak over the front row when you walked in."

"It's good that you didn't," Tucker grumbles, "Dash would've killed you."

Danny, despite the shit morning, manages a smile and tilts his head so that his cheek is resting on his arm instead. "Mr. Lancer wouldn't've let him." Sam sniffs, and her fingers are in his hair already - it's been growing out for a while now. He meant to cut it but then the lab accident happened, and he was in the hospital, and then on sick leave, and -- long story short, he was growing it out.

Besides, Sam pulling it back for him was relaxing, and he feels the tension bleeding out of his shoulders already. His anxious heart slowing. "Yeah, he's been weirdly protective since the accident." He says. It was kinda nice, Dash was being forced to back off - finally, more than he was before.

"Probably because if you have a heart attack in class from Dash bullying you, he'll be liable." Tucker snorts, relaxing back into his chair. Up front, the three of them see Dash shoot them a glare from over his shoulder. He probably heard them -- and Tucker doesn't help by giving him an innocent, too-wide grin.

There's a tug, and Danny lifts his head slightly as Sam ties his hair back with whatever hairband she procured out of nowhere. And she says she's not a witch, honestly.

His smile falters, however, when Sam leans back around his shoulder with a frown still evident on her face. "Seriously though, what's up? You were really pale -- paler than normal, that is."

Danny doesn't really wanna tell them - he's kept the whole 'my parents are torturing ghosts' thing to himself ever since he first woke up to the house shaking. It wasn't any secret though that there were ghosts now actually 'infesting' Amity Park though, they'd been popping up ever since the portal turned on.

But Jazz says talking about things helps alleviate stress of what's burdening you, and Danny doesn't usually listen to her. She's his annoying older sister, of course he doesn't. But... this... wasn't really something he wanted to keep secret forever, either.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he averts his eyes. It's like tearing off a band-aid, Danny, he thinks, just... blurt it out. "My parents are torturing ghosts in the basement." He says, only to immediately wince as both Sam and Tucker drop their jaws.

"What!?" They both yell in unison, and Danny ducks his head down as everyone else sitting around them turn their heads.

"Not so loud!" He hisses, peeking through his arms and glaring at the both of them. They both grimace, embarrassment dusting red across Sam's face and Tucker's darkening slightly, and duck their heads down towards him.

"Sorry, what!?" Tucker whispers back at him, his face all scrunched up in disbelief. Sam's redness has faded into pale horror and -- and yeah, yeah, Danny gets it. He feels that way too.

"They keep catching the ghosts and dissecting them." He whispers, and god, he feels sick just saying it. Tucker's face falls slack, and he looks about as ill as Danny feels. "I don't- I don't know what to do about it, I keep waking up to them screaming, and Jazz keeps getting into fights about it with them."

"Oh my god." Sam mutters, her hands pressing together and covering her mouth. Danny nods mutely, chewing on his lip.

"They know its hurting them." He adds, and its still dizzyingly terrifying to think about. He thought he knew his parents. He thought he knew them. He guesses that saying of people being multi-faceted was true. "They don't care."

Sam and Tucker both look green. Or as close to green as they can get. "That's- that's inhumane." Sam breathes, and Danny huffs sardonically - funny, that's what Jazz said this morning. That's what she keeps saying. "And there's really nothing you can do?"

"Not unless I go into the lab myself and release them," he mutters, hiding half his face in his arms. "And I haven't been back in there since I got electrocuted." His parents wouldn't allow it, and it's not like he he was chomping at the bits to go back inside anyways.

...Hm.

"I'm sorry, Danny." Tucker says, his voice low and horrified, "that's- that's awful."

Yeah. He knows.

--------

This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.

Where was Danny you ask? Sneaking down into the lab at sometime past midnight, long after his parents have gone to bed. It's been a week since he said, sarcastically, that the only thing he could do was release the ghosts in the lab, and it hasn't left his head.

Even though he was utterly terrified as he took slow, sneaky steps down the stairs. The thought had been keeping him up at night. He could do it. He could go down into the lab and let them go. He could do something.

It's not like his parents had put a lock on the door. He hadn't even thought about it - if he thought about it, he'd back out. So when he heard his parents go to sleep that night, he waited an hour before sneaking out.

Every sound felt so loud, and his heart had raced in his ears as he creaked open the door to the lab, and closed it behind him for good measure. And his hands were shaking as he reached the bottom of the steps and stepped into the lab for the first time in two months.

And good god, did he almost regret it. There were ghosts in cages of all kinds, and ectoplasm seeping down onto the floor of their cages. They were clutching their chests, of which bled sluggishly through stitched up y-scars. They were moaning, and crying, curled up in the back like frightened animals. And there was a metal table in the center of a room that was stained green, green, green.

"Oh my god." He breathes, horror driving itself up into his throat with the churning of his gut. That's another thing he almost regrets - if only because half a dozen ghosts all snap their heads towards him, and it becomes pandemonium in an instant.

Rattling, yelling, crying, they're all screaming at him. Either to tell him to go away, to give them mercy, or to spew threats at him. It's in that same, hissy language that he's heard before. Whispery, echoing, and overlapping like multiple languages being played backwards and forwards at the same time. It gives him an immediate headache as his mind tries to comprehend and translate it.

Go away. Don't hurt us. Go away. I'll tear you apart. Leave. Leave. LEAVE.

It's all so much. Danny wants to throw himself up the stairs and back up to his room in a prey-driven instinct to flee, flee, flee. He doesn't. He covers his ears and digs his nails into his hair.

He yells. "I'M NOT LEAVING. BE QUIET!" and somehow, it silences everyone in an instant. He looks up, and everyone is staring at him, their multi-colored eyes burning into him.

Tentatively, he lowers his hands, they're shaking. He's still so scared. But courage isn't a lack of fear, its doing something despite it. He blinks back the terrified sting in his eyes, and twiddles with his hands. "I'm- I'm not here to hurt you." He stammers, "I promise. I'm not my parents."

It's silent for a long moment, and then there's an animalistic-like hiss from his left. He turns his head, and there's a ghost of a man curled up in a cage, staring him down with a thunderous look on his face. "Liar." He hisses, his voice warping in that hissy language. There are goat-like horns protruding from his head, and his eyes are yellow and slitted. He's dripping ectoplasm from his chest.

Danny swallows the bile in his throat.

And frowns. "I'm not lying." He says, and the ghost doesn't get hostile, much to his surprise. But there's a ripple of murmurs that spreads through the room like a wave at a ballgame. The ghost that spoke stares at him, then squints.

"You understand us, child?"

And - okay, Danny doesn't like the 'child' comment. He's fourteen for goodness sake, and he bristles silently like it's an insult, but he's no there to argue, he's here to help. So he swallows his pride and starts to walk towards the closed portal.

His legs are shaking, he's afraid they're gonna give out beneath him. The portal scares him, more than it did when he first saw it. But maybe that's because when he first saw it, he hadn't almost died from it.

His heart is pounding in his ears. Is it going to give out again, will he have to go to the hospital again? Despite his insistence that he's fine, Danny's heart hasn't beat right ever since the accident. He's checked. He spent an hour every night with his fingers pressed against the pulse point at his throat, at his wrist, terrified of the slow-beating he could feel thrumming against the skin.

Hearts aren't supposed to beat that slow - that much he knows. He's afraid he's going to drop dead if it drops any lower.

"Of course I do." He swallows, glancing back at the ghost. Everyone's eyes are on him, they burn into him, curious, wary, afraid. He's in front of the portal, in front of the keypad to open it. Shit, did dad put in a password? "Am I- am I not supposed to?"

He pauses to look at the ghost, and the man has moved to stare at him from a new angle in his cage - god he's gonna need to find the key. Mom and dad probably have it in their desk, right?

The ghost is silent. "...No. You're not." He says, and his head tilts to the side as Danny mentally translates in his head. he looks at Danny like he's trying to inspect him, like he's trying to look into him like his parents have looked into the ghost. "What is your name, child?"

"I'm not a child." He bites out, and immediately winces. Shit- he just said not to antagonize them. But the ghost doesn't look offended. In fact, he just grins a sharp, toothy grin like a shark, and raspy giggles and titters echo through the room.

...That's... probably a good sign. "Um," he continues, and turns his back to the keypad. Dad's birthday? He punches into the keys. "I'm- uh, Danny. Danny Fentom- Fanton- Fenton. My parents are- uh, the ones who took you guys." The keypad buzzes and the bar spots red. Wrong password. Dammit.

"Phantom." The ghost says, and the name crawls like a spider across the walls, sneaking up his spine and ringing in the air like the leftover taste of rain and thunder. the rest of the ghosts whisper it amongst themselves.

Danny shivers, it feels like a weight in his chest. It's Fenton, he thinks, but doesn't correct. He doesn't want to push his luck with the being that could tear him apart. "Uh, sure."

He punches in mom's birthday. Wrong. He puts in Jazz's. Wrong. "How come we haven't seen you down here, Phantom?" The ghost asks, and Danny shrugs helplessly. "You are the Danny that the unknown girl yells about?"

He tries his own birthday. Wrong. Fuck. What's the password? The tremor in his limbs worsens with his anxiety, and he tries to keep his breathing steady. What if he can't get this open? What if he can't get them out? He nearly forgets to answer the ghost, and licks his dry lips. "Um- yeah, that's me. The Danny guy." He says, turning to the cages again. "And uh, I don't come down here because my parents don't allow it."

The ghost, uh, goat-man? Tilts his head, there are whispers throughout the room that pick up. And Danny feels like the kid late to an all school assembly and now has to walk past the whole school to find a seat.

Goat-man smiles again, or bares his teeth? "You are the reason why the human doctors haven't cut into us more than they already have." And- that's- that's good? He thinks?

"That's- good, right? You- you don't want to be cut open, so it's good that I, uh, indirectly stopped it a few times?"

A round of titters goes through the room again. The man's grin widens inhumanly so, and Danny's heart spikes with fear. "Yes, it's a good thing, Phantom child." He says, "Why is it that your parents do not let you come down here?"

Danny stares, and swallows again, dry. The back of his neck tingles, and he tastes electricity on his tongue. "I had an accident down here, um, nearly two months ago." His eyes flick to the cable cord where the portal was plugged in, and his heart flutters with the images of green that got burned behind his eyes. He looks away. "The portal, it, ah, electrocuted me. I was in the hospital because it nearly killed me."

"It did kill you." The ghost says immediately, and terror fills up in Danny like water flooding a room. What? What? What? He was alive. His heart was beating, he was alive. "But only for a moment. You've been touched by death, Phantom."

That was so fucking ominous. And terrifying. And terrifyingly ominous. And also really horrifying. Danny does a swift pirouette and turns back to the keypad. Time to figure out the passcode and not think about that, ever again, actually.

"Wow." He rasps, his mind numb as he punches in a random code of numbers and gets a red screen. "How reassuring. Tell death I want a refund." He gets laughter again, and his shoulders scrunch up to his ears.

"It is the reason you can understand us, then." The ghost says behind him. "We are not speaking your language child - rather, you are speaking ours."

Again. Fucking ominous. Danny furrows his brows and stares hard at the keypad - if he was dad, and he wanted to put a password lock on his lifetime achievement in something that was easy to remember and equally important, what would it be?

Oh. Right.

He bites back a groan - how obvious. Danny's an idiot. Or maybe just so scared witless that his brain isn't working right. "Fudge." He grumbles, and punches it into the keypad. It dings green.

Of - fucking - course. Danny rolls his eyes.

He hears a hiss, and Danny rapidly scuttles back as the massive blast doors twisted open like something out of a scifi movie - he'd be geeking out if he wasn't aware of his own rapid heartbeat. Like a gun charging up, an unearthly green glow appears at the back of the tunnel an d then rapidly moves towards him, growing larger and larger.

Danny flinches, half-convinced its going to hit him. He was going to be vaporized, and he brings up his arms to protect himself. But nothing happens, and he peeks open an eye that he closed when the ghost from before murmurs for him to open them.

The portal is - is, well. Indescribable. It fills the dark room with its glow, swirling like a those weird, shimmering liquid dyes put into martini glasses in those aesthetic gifs on the internet. And the light it casts on the walls shimmers and moves like the aurora borealis.

Danny is speechless. It's... oddly beautiful. And terrifying. There's a whole new world in that dimension - if he steps through he won't be on earth anymore.

And... his parents wanted to eradicate the people on the other side of it?

He whirls on foot, his back to the portal - a thing that fills him with dread. his shaking - its worse. Danny almost thinks his feet will give out. "Do - do any of you know where mom and dad keep the keys to the cages?" He asks, but he's already stalking towards the desk on the other side of the room.

The people in the cages grow restless, and they've been silent for the most part - but with the portal open, and him going to find the keys, they'd begun to grow talkative. They were moving more in the cages, talking to each other, excitement filling the air with so much hope Danny could feel it resonating between his ribs.

A new voice, quiet and feminine, speaks up on the opposite side of the goat-man's cage. She's closer to the desk, and she has also been cut open. There are black tears staining her face, and her shock white hair floats like she's underwater. Immediately, on instinct, Danny's head supplies him with a word.

Banshee.

"In the bottom drawer, Phantom." She whispers, her voice lilting and melodic. Her pitch black eyes follow him across the room. "I've seen them put it there after putting us back into our cages."

He nods mutely, and again feels horrified by their treatment from his parents. His pace quickens to the desk, and just as the banshee woman said, there are keys in the bottom drawer sitting on top of a bunch of research papers that have a suspicious green stain on them.

Danny ignores the stain and grabs the keys, holding them up as he closes the drawer. When he turns back to the cages, all eyes are on him. "Um," he rasps, "I found the key." Who do I free first?

His eyes land on the banshee woman first, she's the closest to the desk. And in an arc he follows the lineup to the other side side of the room. He moves to the banshee woman's cage first, and she perks up as he kneels down to the door.

"I'll- I'll go in a circle, first." He announces, fingers fumbling with the key as he inserts it into the hole. The banshee woman had her fingers - clawed and knife-like, capable of tearing out his throat in an instant - around the bars of her confinement. She was staring at him intently.

He hesitates, and looks up. Her eyes are pitch black, he noticed this before, but this close its like its threatening to suck him in and send him swirling through a blackhole. "If- if I free you," he stammers, licking his lips, "will you attack me?"

The banshee woman bares her razor teeth at him, and reaches through the bars to touch his face. It takes all Danny's restraint not to flinch as her nails drag down his cheek softly. "No," she says, "you're freeing us, Phantom. We will not attack you."

Danny.. will just have to take her word for it. He nods, and with a sharp twist of his wrist unlocks the cage with one hand, and flings open the door with the other. In an instant, the banshee dives forward -- Danny thinks she's lunging at him, and flinches violently.

She goes through him instead, leaving him with a bone-deep chill and a heartbeat in his ears. He turns, and sees her dive through the portal like a swimmer diving into a pool.

There is silence throughout the room. And then everyone else begins to clamor once again, just like when Danny first walked in. Danny hurries to hush them - he said he was going around the room! He'll free them, but be quiet, or you'll wake his parents!

He rushes for the next cage, and one by one opens each and every cage. There are cheers, and thank yous, and cries of gratitude. He has to help the weaker ghosts out of their cage and limp them towards the portal. His shirt and hands are stained green with their blood.

(When he goes back up to his room later, he throws it off and throws it away. He can't stand the sight of it, and he scrubs his hands until they're raw.)

It's a lot for Danny to not burst into tears, or to throw up. Until finally he reaches goat-man's cage, and releases him. He is one of the ghosts too weak to fly on their own, and so Danny lets him lean against him and helps him to the portal.

"Will you be okay?" He asks once they are at the threshold, the portal hums softly this close to it. Almost like its trying to beckon Danny inside, like a siren song. Danny ignores it. "Will everyone else?"

"We will heal, Phantom." Goatman says, holding a hand to his chest. He looks tired, this close, and Danny can feel him looking at him, even without any pupils to show it. "Once back inside the Infinite Realms our bodies will heal on its own."

Danny nods silently, and his frown begins to wobble. The stress he's been under is finally starting to take its toll, and he is emotionally exhausted. There is still a lingering taste of fear in the air that doesn't belong to him - but the ghosts that have left. "I'm sorry." He croaks, his voice cracking. "I didn't - I didn't think you guys were human. I'm sorry."

The ghost's expression softens, but he still looks stern. "We aren't human." he says, and Danny frowns, confused. The ghost continues, and reaches out a long finger to tap against Danny's chest, where his heart is. "But do not think for a moment that humanity can be measured by the sound of a heartbeat, child. We are just as humane as you living can be, and we are just as sentient and sapient as you. Do not forget that, and you will not become your parents."

There's nothing for Danny to say to that, except nod once again. His tongue is heavy in his mouth, made of lead. "This will happen again," he continues, and his eyes prick, "they're gonna keep catching ghosts and bringing them down here." And hurting them.

Goatman nods curtly, and raises an eyebrow at Danny. "What will you do to stop them, Phantom?" He asks, "You could keep releasing them after they have been already caught, but that will not stop the pain they face under the hands of your parents."

He's right. He's right. And if Danny keeps releasing them afterwards, his parents will grow suspicious. They'll start sticking around trying to catch whoever is freeing the ghosts. And Danny doesn't want to face what will happen if his parents realize that he's the one freeing ghosts.

His eyes flicker rapidly around the room, trying to think of a solution - what could he do? What can he do?

His eyes land on the thermos sitting on the table.

"I... I could catch ghosts?" He says, unsure, and looks back to the ghost. He nods, beckoning for Danny to continue. "I can catch them in the thermos before my parents do, and then release them back to the Zone."

"That will work." The ghost says, "The thermos doesn't hurt to be in, it's merely cramped. Will you follow through on this?"

"Yes."

The ghost smiles at him a third and final time, his teeth glinting in the green portal light. "Then good luck, Danny Phantom."

He lets go, and disappears into the portal.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #tw mentions of blood #dpdc #clone^2 #tw mentions of experimentation #dp dc #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc au #dp x dc au #danny fenton is a clone #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny: my name is danny fentom - fenton #ghost: hello danny phantom #i thought that was a clever way for danny to get his 'phantom' vigilante name. although if that hadnt happened he still would've chosen #phantom as his vigilante name. it just would've happened differently. danny being terrified of the ghosts but still going through with #freeing them anyways #will rpobably reblog later with a continuation of him actually deciding to sneak out as phantom. but thats a hard maybe. #its a danny phantom fic so its kinda expected for them to be OSME kind of horror elements to it. thats the best part! #i left a few details out like how the portal light made danny's hair look white from a certain angle from where the light was hitting it #alerting all ghosts but danny that danny has been affected by the infinite realms in some way and was not as human as he seemed. #altho that was obvious by the fact that he could understand ghostspeak when no living being should be able to #ghost: dont judge humanity by the sound of a heartbeat #i had another tag i was gonna put here - what was it??? will add later if. i remember #NOW I REMEMBER #parental ambuigity from the fenton parents. are they good are they bad? up to interpretation

[deadsetobsessions]

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1]

Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”

Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.

But this?

This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.

This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.

“Your father, papito, he-,”

Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.

“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”

The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.

“Ey, Peter.”

“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.

“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.

“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”

“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”

“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”

Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”

“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”

“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.

“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.

“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”

“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”

Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”

“Anytime, Spidey.”

Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.

To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.

See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.

Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.

Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.

Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.

“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.

Talk about deja vu.

“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.

Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.

“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.

“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.

Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”

He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.

The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.

The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.

Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.

“You alright?”

“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.

“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.

“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.

Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.

“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.

“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.

“More of them? You know what they want?”

Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.

“I can help,” Peter promised.

“What’re your thoughts on metas?”

Suspicious.

“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”

Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.

Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-

“Caught? You’re a meta?”

Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”

Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.

“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.

“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”

“Yeah…? Is that weird?”

Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.

“Move, Frank!”

Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.

“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.

When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.

“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”

“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”

Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.

“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”

They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.

——

“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”

“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”

“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”

“I’ll show you twerp, you-”

Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.

“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”

“Spidey?”

“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”

Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.

“Ughhhh.”

——

“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”

Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.

“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”

“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.

He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.

“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.

Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.

“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.

Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.

“Ah. Something unpleasant?”

Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.

“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”

“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”

“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…

“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.

“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”

“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.

“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”

“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”

Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”

And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”

“Uh.”

“It’s cool,”

“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.

“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”

Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”

“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”

Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.

He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?

Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.

“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”

——

Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww

Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*

——

Tim: I’ve connected the dots!

Peter: you’ve connected jack shit

——

Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)

#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon #Peter Parker #I think you know who his mom is #nightwing #batman #red robin #Frank the Crime Alley kid #Tim Drake #Tw: mentions of torture #Tw: human experimentation #bruce wayne #dick Grayson #gotham #Tw: mentions of human trafficking #Catalina Marie Flores #tarantula #Spider in Gotham AU

[kaeyachi]

So...I finished the Arlecchino story quest...

Spoilers below!

TW: Mentions of Suicide, Child Experimentation, Child Abuse, and Murder/Death

This is, by far, the best story quest I have ever done!

First of all, CHILDE?! CHILDE ESCAPING HIS PERSONAL AMBULANCE TO SNEZHNAYA JUST TO COME BACK TO FONTAINE TO ASK SKIRK A QUESTION? Bro is so funny, please-

please save him.

Wait, actually, yeah please do save him. Pulcinella and Pantalone are both plotting in the background, and they got Childe involved...

I also loved the children! Look at how terrifying they are! They're my absolute faves!!

Lyney cementing the reason as to why Arlecchino chose him as the next King is wonderful to see as well. For some time, I thought Freminet and Lynette had a shot, even with reading their lore. What I have failed to realize is that Lyney really is the inspiration for all of the people in the House of the Hearth. His frustrated and disappointed spiel about Freminet not trusting him with Clervie struck me to the heart. This is an older brother at work here people!

Also if I had a nickel every time a cryo younger brother hid a dangerous secret from his pyro older brother which got them into an argument once the truth came out, I'd have 2 nickels ✌️ (somehow gave me war flashbacks to a scene that doesn't even exist lmao)

LYNETTE IS THE FUNNIEST SIBLING BTW. SHE'S MY QUEEN FOR THIS.

Clervie! Our dearest! I'm not fully sure what part in her design did it, but she barely looks like an NPC somehow. Like, yes, this is still an NPC base model, but... is it perhaps the hair? And the extra lashes??

Also, her calling Arlecchino "Perrie" made me sob. I wasn't ready to hear nicknames!!

The mention of Snezhnayan auroras also made me sob again as well. You know what? This entire thing made me sob.

Clervie's dread and horror at the thought of her own mother, her unrelenting spirit that kept her going in her fight for her fellow peers freedom despite the abuse that she will receive, and her unfulfilled dreams repeatedly being mentioned throughout this quest was heartbreaking.

I do have to say- the animations they released for Arlecchino helped a lot with the emotions we are supposed to feel for this quest. Not only was that good Advertising and promotion for the Arlecchino banner, it also set up the plot that would have not been well presented ingame had they chose to do that instead.

Crucabena and Clervie part of this quest were not the only ones mentioned in this quest, but also that damn dude that she killed with her heels! I personally like the way they released all those animations because the quest feels more emotional and alive now, and we could follow with the story better than before (and it effectively increased the hype)

Speaking of more alive, the facial expressions have definitely improved! This quest had them utilizing various expressions well, specifically for the playable characters, so, again, this really helped with the feel of the quest.

Additionally, adding a picture to scenes also set the tone really well. It's not that pictures have never been included in quests before, but the way these were framed(?) made it look way better than the ones before.

By the way...is it just me? Or did Paimon's voice somewhat mellow out for this quest? I had recently played some other story and world quests, and Paimon's EN voice is admittedly high-pitched and painful to hear in those, but for this quest, it's as if her voice was toned down (like Mondstadt Paimon, but with current Paimon energy). I'm hoping this was them taking the criticism from past and adjusting their instructions to Paimon's VA accordingly, because I loved Paimon's voice in this quest (that or I'm delulu)

Quick lore tidbits before I go back to gushing about this quest:

1. Arlecchino confirmed not from Fontaine (like I legit thought she may be Khaenri'ahn due to the blood moon thing she has going for her, but it's nice to confirm her non-Fontainian status)

2. Crucabena was the one who had a deal with Dottore on sending members of the HotH to him for experimentation. Anyone who was physically impaired or left alive after a duel to death are automatically sent to him. Clervie has described this as a fate worse than death... Peruere rejected Dottore's partnership offer once she became the next knave. Also, Crucabena used Clervie as an "example" for those who wish to escape, meaning Clervie received the most abuse (which apparently worsened as the years went by). Clervie lost hope sometime along the way and was basically suicidal as well by the time she and Arlecchino had their duel... Her mindset by that time is that the only hope for freedom to her is death. The popular theory of Clervie letting Arlecchino kill her is proven in a horrifying way with this discovery... (yes, she wanted Arlecchino to be the king, but at the same time, she took this situation as a chance to hit 2 birds with 1 stone)

3. Project Stuzha is apparently something highly dangerous, and Pulcinella and Pantalone are trying to get Childe and Arlecchino involved (Childe was told to aide the project by Pulcinella, while Arlecchino says she doesnt want the HotH to be involved in it)

4. Here is me reannouncing that I am in fact taking the L on the Freminet and Crucabena situation. Basically, the timeline is that at age 16, Clervie dies, and we are left with a 1 year time period for a 6 year old Freminet to enter under Crucabena (I'm guessing this is either a retcon or a means to hide the Arlecchino plot by not having them directly say mother in Freminet's character story 4). After that said 1 year, Peruere kills Crucabena and has spent several months in Snezhnaya before reviving the House of the Hearth and adopting Lyney and Lynette (perhaps the children of Crucabena's HotH simply stuck together during that time)

Basically, yes, Arlecchino is in her mid-20s. Not my personal cup of tea, but hey, genshin ages are confusing most days (Ayato is older than her, and Ayaka may actually be older than her as well... ugh I need a moment please... I MAY BE THE SAME AGE AS HER. NO-)

5. Freminet used to also call Lyney "brother". What changed that, I'm not sure (and if I had a nickel...), but the thought of baby Freminet following around big bro Lyney and big sis Lynette makes my heart melt. Freminet actually cried after Lyney basically told him how important Fremi is to him, so whoever made Freminet think otherwise... 😡 they better square up because we ride at dawn

ok back to me gushing

THE BOSS FIGHT? IT WAS SO COOL! It was beautifully animated, and the fact that they added this at the end?

The fear on the traveler's eyes upon realization of what true power Arlecchino held was amazing imo. We canonically cannot defeat Arlecchino in her boss fight! She will be a weekly boss that we can defeat, but in actuality, we really cannot beat the number 4 of the Fatui Harbringers.

We now have actual proof that harbringers 1-4 are not within our capabilities to challenge, and to add to that horror, this is us fighting Arlecchino with Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. This is also actual proof that we, the traveler, cannot defeat a ton of other characters as well! (were cooked if we never get a power boost and plot armor✌️)

Also let me sneak in this picture:

Cunty as fck. Powerpuff girls energy. They're the Heathers, and we, the traveler, are Veronica.

And finally, the last part of my commentary that cemented this quest as my top 1:

Everything Arlecchino has done for the House of the Hearth, it was all thanks to Clervie and her dreams.

Arlecchino has shaped the HotH into a more honest relationship between her as the father and them as her children. Everything Clervie hated about the old HotH is now nonexistent in this version.

The children could be set free.

Duels are not to death.

They will not be sent to their doom if they lose.

This is everything that Clervie dreamed of, and this is everything Clervie tragically never got to see and experience because she lost all hope.

Clervie's story ended in tragedy, but Peruere lived and breathed Clervie's dreams for her anyway. Seeing the aurora was the start of Peruere finding the goal of living Clervie's dream, and now, Arlecchino strives to do her best to see those dreams come to fruition.

And the qualities that Peruere admired in Clervie are the same qualities that made her want Lyney to become the next king. Hopeful, caring, protective, passionate, and full of conviction. Lyney will take the mantle and live and breathe for Clervie's and Peruere's dreams someday.

Honestly, I have more to say, but I think this is a good place to stop for now. The dynamics of all these characters have made this experience worthwhile, and I hope that genshin continues with this sort of style in the future. Here's to more amazing stories from genshin!

Bonus screenshot while we are still here:

#genshin spoilers #arlecchino #lyney #lynette #freminet #genshin 4.6 spoilers #tw: suicide mention #tw: abuse mention #tw: experimentation #tw: mentions of death #tw: mentions of abuse #you know what #I'll say it here in the tags #clervie wouldve loved mondstadt #she wanted to be a bard! her reaction to mond was so cute!

[starlightshadowsworld]

When Snow Falls

Chuuya notices somethings off with Tachihara and learns the government's human experiments didn't end with him.

Spoilers for Stormbringer.

TW for child abuse, human experimentation and there's a mention of suicide (Tachihara brings up his brother.)

@tachiharastanacc An attempt was made 😅

........................

Chuuya knew this was none of his business, but when had that ever stopped him. The mission with the Black Lizards earlier had gone as smooth as ever. But there was something amiss.

The Black Lizards had been fighting their way out. But it didn't escape Chuuya they had been protecting Tachihara. Rashomon seemed to hover near the other boy when the bullets started firing.

Gin was at Tachihara's otherside and Hirotsu would look back at him often, with concern.

Chuuya had looked through Tachihara's files, there was no mention of prior injuries or incident reports. And the kid wasn't weak, far from it considering he made it to the Black Lizards.

And yet, Chuuya recalled Tachihara's performance on the mission. He'd executed his attacks well, but he moved slower than usual. 

Chuuya hadn't gotten a good look at him, but Tachihara had been pale. And when he thought no one was looking he'd wince.

And yeah maybe he was just sick and pushing through it to complete his mission.

But Chuuya's instincts screamed at him that was something wrong. Something beyond some simple sickness. 

His instincts had yet to fail him. With that in mind, and dread in his stomach Chuuya took off into the night. 

Finding Tachihara wasn't hard. It didn't take long for Chuuya to spot him sitting at the docks. Tachihara didn't notice Chuuya approach until he was right behind him.

Not a good sign for someone who's team mate was Gin. Someone who Tachihara frequently caught sneaking up on him.

Tachihara blinked, looking up at his superior. His legs were dangling off the edge and his arms wrapped around himself like he was cold.

Chuuya froze at the sight of him. He hadn't gotten a good look at him during the mission. But up close he could see just how bad the kid looked.

In the dim light of the docks, Tachihara looked like a corpse.

"Shit..." Said Chuuya, before he could stop himself. Tachihara's hands were at his sides, gripping the edge of the docks. They were shaking and it was clear he'd lost weight.

He smiled at Chuuya, and it made Chuuya sick to know that if he wasn't aware something was clearly wrong, he might've bought it. Just how long had Tachihara been putting on this carefree facade? 

"Nakahara? Hey, fancy seeing you out here." Said Tachihara, he was suprised to see the executive. The man would usually be having tea with Kouyou at this hour.

What was he doing out here?

"Tachihara" said Chuuya, making it very clear he wasn't going go entertain this sharade at all.

Tachihara's smile wavered, before it fell entirely. He was almost glad, because it meant he didn't have to pretend anymore.

He didn't need to keep lying to the people he loved. 

Tachihara smiled, it was genuine unlike the last one. It was wistful and sad as he looked to the moonlit sky. "I'm dying" It was said so quietly that Chuuya thought he'd misheard him. 

"What?! What do you mean?! Are you hurt?!" Asked Chuuya, he swore he'd not seen an incident report earlier. Had he been wrong? Why was Tachihara out here and not in the infirmary?! 

Tachihara shook his head, relaxed like he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. "Nah. There ain't a scratch in me. My body's just, shutting down." He debates whether to explain or not. "Might wanna sit, it's a long one."

Chuuya raises an eyebrow, but moves to sit beside him and gestures for him to go on. 

"When I was a kid I looked up to my big brother. He was the perfect model son and everyone wanted me to grow up to be just like him. I hated it, more than anything."

Tachihara snorted. The irony that he had tried everything to avoid being like Shunzen. Only to follow in his footsteps like an imperfect copy. 

"He was a soilder who got sent out the Great War. He didn't die in battle, not the physical kind that is... He killed himself."

Tachihara could still remember that morning. His dad had been hysterics and his mum was yelling at the medic on the phone for lying to her.

He'd just been sat in the middle of it all, forgotten and confused. 

Chuuya wordlessly took off his hat bowing his head in respect. Tachihara was suprised by the sentiment. And touched by it all the same. Chuuya didn't apologise to him, nor offer him empty words.

Not like everyone else had done.

Tachihara had to look away lest he started tearing up. "With him home, the pressure only grew. But instead now it was that it should've been me."

And maybe this was Tachihara's karma for being the brother who survived.

"I said to hell with that. I rebelled, I broke the rules, got into fights and my grades went down the drain. I got caught up in a bank robbery, there was an explosion... I don't really remember it, only that I should've died."

Tachihara took a deep breath that rattled his lungs. "My brother, he had an ability. He could turn metal into shapes from stories and poetry. I was jealous he had one, and that night I learned I had one too." 

Tachihara raised his hand and the metal chain on Chuuya's hat swung back and forth at his command.

He winces, putting his hand down, cancelling his ability. "He could make shapes but I can bend metal to my will. In the same way you bend gravity to yours."

Chuuya can only look at him in shock. To think Tachihara had an ability this whole time and no one had known.

The small show seemed to have sucked the energy out of him. But Chuuya could sense just how strong Tachihara truly was. "Why hide it?"  

Tachihara looks down at his now shaking hand, ashamed. "I'll get to it, I promise." Chuuya frowns, but let's him continue. 

"So I managed to save myself, but barely. I was crushed under rubble but I was saved by the police. When I woke up I thought I was in a hospital. But it only looked like one, it was a secret government lab."

Chuuya's blood ran cold. He swore his heart stopped.

Tachihara, didn't notice and kept talking. "The scientists saved me, but their was a price." Tachihara took another deep breath, it was painful to recount.

"They put me back together, but there was something different. My body wasn't as it was before."

Chuuya knows he should say something, anything. But he can't, his mind is blank. All he can do is sit and stare at Tachihara, at this kid with horror.

Finally, after only a moment but felt forever Chuuya managed to bring himself to ask. "Kid... What did they do to you?"  

Tachihara smiled sadly, closing his eyes. "You know, to this day I still don't know." He admitted, and if that didn't break Chuuya's heart, what would?

He knew, he knew what it was like to feel like your body wasn't yours. To feel like a microchip implanted into a robot, it was a pain he wouldn't wish on anyone. 

"What was their goal. Cause I'm guessing they didn't save you out of the goodness of their heart."

There was always a goal, always a project and a purpose that these sick bastards had in mind. 

For Chuuya it was Arahabaki, for Verlaine it was Guivre. He didn't think it was the same for Tachihara, to create an ability singularity.

The kid's ability was strong but not that strong. 

"Whatever they did it was experimental. It didn't save me completely, I'd need monthly "examinations" a touch up if you will, to keep me alive. They'd only do it though if I accepted the position to become the fifth Hunting Dog."

The Hunting Dogs were a group of elite gifted, hell elite didn't even begin to describe to them.

They were the top squad of the military police. It was said one of their members were equal to the strength of an army of gifted.

Chuuya didn't put much stock in rumours like that, but they don't come from nothing. "You accepted because without them you'd die."

Tachihara finally looks at Chuuya, his eyes shining with greif and shame.  

"Yeah, I did. I was trained, if you could call it that. I was cut up and put back together, over and over. I became what they wanted, and agreed to join the Port Mafia as a spy."

He doesn't let himself move, doesn't let himself look away. The shame weighs on his heart but looking away now would be the cowards way out.

But maybe he was already the coward, given Tachihara had intended on letting this all die with him.

"Tachihara, why are you dying?" Asked Chuuya, his voice soft and kind. The exact opposite of what Tachihara expected, he just admitted he was a traitor... Why was Chuuya being so nice?

"I... What?"

"You said they'd keep you alive so long as you did what they asked, right?" Summarises Chuuya, getting a nod from Tachihara. It takes all of his own training for Chuuya to stay calm. 

"So why aren't they doing that now?"

Realisation blooms in Tachihara's heart, because Chuuya figured it out. He laughs, he's not entirely sure why but he laughs. It rattles his entire body and it brings him to tears.

"I wasn't supposed to like you guys. It's the first rule of being a spy, don't get attached. But... Fuck I got attached, too attached. I gave a report, I missed some information that would've hurt the Port Mafia. It would've cost lives and I couldn't do it."

Tachihara wrapped his arms around himself. It took a lot of effort just to move them. It hurt so much, like his soul was on fire.

"They found out. Pushed my my maintenance day till end of the month. That's why I'm dying, Nakahara. Cause they know, and I know I can't wait that long."

Those bastards... Chuuya was going to kill them. Government or not, he was going to make them feel the pain of being crushed by gravity. Who forces a child to make such a choice?! 

Tachihara coughs, blood staining the floor before him. He smiles "they think I'll crawl back and beg for forgiveness but I won't."

There's a fire in his eyes, a stubborn determination even in his weakened state. "I cleaned their system of everything I ever told em. It's all gone."

This, this was strength. Chuuya could only marvel at the sacrifice Tachihara had made. And he wasn't the only one. 

There's a moment of silence before Chuuya holds up his phone. "Did you catch all of that, Boss?" He asks, Tachihara looks at him in shock.

He hadn't seen Chuuya subtly call Mori as they started talking.  

"Oh yes Chuuya, but Tachihara I have my own question. Why would you go so far for us? You know what the Port Mafia does to traitors." Asks Mori, his voice coming loud and clear from the speaker phone.

Intrigue colouring every word. 

And while he couldn't see him, Tachihara still bowed his head in respect.

"It probably sounds stupid but... Ever since that day, I was treated less than a person. I survived, but I wasn't human anymore. I was a government lab rat."

If Chuuya didn't want to kill them all, that certainty made his blood boil.

He's all too familiar with the craving, the dull ache in your heart as you wonder it that's enough to make you human.

To question whether you were the original. To think you were simply lines of code imbeded in flesh. It had damn near broken Chuuya, and he had people who loved him.

He had crumbled in the hands of those who believed, unwavering that he was human. Chuuya couldn't image thinking that for years, and suffering alone.

The fact this all was going on under his nose, pissed him off. Chuuya had swore to protect those he cared about, and he'd failed.  

Tachihara, unaware of Chuuya's turmoil, was turning over Mori's question in his mind. He chuckles but it's not funny. 

"I'm not even the first person to be the fifth Hunting Dog. I'm just the next one they picked up. That's, why I had to hide my ability, from everyone so no one would know I wasn't the first.

And I probably won't be the last. Being in the Port Mafia, it's the first time I've felt human. I couldn't let that be destroyed, no matter what."

"I've heard enough" Says Mori and Tachihara falls silent. "Chuuya, I trust you to deliver him to Infirmary 4B. It's the closest one to your location."

"I'm on it." Says Chuuya. Tachihara raises his head, confused. As if reading his mind, Mori chuckles.

"Oh Tachihara, the government might have decided you weren't worth saving but last I checked I was the Boss. And all you've done is prove you're truly one of ours. You're going to live, and that's an order."

Tachihara let those words run through him, he was shocked to say the least. "I... Okay" is what he ended up saying, because words were failing him. Mori just chuckled again, signing off. 

"Why did you...?" Trials off Tachihara, looking at Chuuya in shock. Chuuya smiles, it's sad as it is kind. "Cause I know what it's like, to be ripped apart and turned into a government lab rat."

He rests a hand on Tachihara's shoulder. "But kid, nothing they do takes away that you're human." 

Tachihara looks at him, akin to a starving man being handed food. He's spent so long questioning his own humanity.

And for someone to look him in the eye, and say 'you're human' with no hesitation....Tears well up in his eyes and he's powerless to stop them as they fall.

Chuuya hugs him close as Tachihara sobs. He let him down, he let him down and allowed this to go on. Not anymore, Chuuya was going to protect him. Just like he should have all along.

He helps him to his feet, practically carrying him to his bike. And from his bike to the infirmary.

"Could you..." Tachihara trials off, embarrassed and Chuuya chuckles ruffling his hair. It takes Tachihara aback at first, no ones done that since his brother died. 

It was nice. 

"I'll be right here when you wake up." Promised Chuuya, nodding his head to a nearby chair. Tachihara smiled "thanks, Nakahara, for everything."

Chuuya rolls his eyes with a fond smile. "Call me Chuuya, and kid you don't need to thank me for anything. The Port Mafia is my family, that includes you."

Tachihara chuckles "alright, but Akutugawa might be my cooler older brother." He narrowly avoids Chuuya's playful swat and laughs. Tachihara is eventually lead away as the Port Mafia's medical team do their jobs.

Unfortunately, Tachihara would still need the maintenance no matter what they'd do.

Tachihara's body had been fundamentally altered in a way that could not be reversed. But at least now, everyone knew and would make sure he could get through it all painlessly and humanely.

Less human experimentation and more regular surgery.

He wasn't a lab rat.

He wouldn't be ever again.

Not if Chuuya and the rest of the Port Mafia had any say in it.

Akutugawa had been livid, he'd berated Tachihara for being an idiot the moment he was cleared to go home. Tachihara just listened, suprised and was informed Akutugawa had stormed in and hadn't left his side at all.

Hirotsu had patted his shoulder with a kind smile. Higuchi had bought a basket of snacks and had chastised him for keeping it all a secret. Gin had been right there guarding the door.

Chuuya kept his word, having been fantasing what to do with the Government scientists involved. The rest of the Black Lizard chiming in their preferred torture method. 

And Tachihara? He had never felt more loved. 

#bsd tachihara #tachihara michizou #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd chuuya #bsd akutagawa #bsd gin #bsd hirotsu #bsd higuchi #bsd mori #tw child abuse #tw human experimentation #Tw suicide mention #bsd stormbringer #When Snow Falls

[j3llyf1shdust]

a drabble of some angst (?) I’ve been planning. the AU does NOT start happy. I got too silly.

i just threw up on the paper kinda. I’m better at writing out scenes rather than comicing them. storyboards it maybe the best i cand so, aside from some messy stuff like this.

#my art #traditional art #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the ultimate lifeform #sonadow #sonic au #sonic x shadow #shadow x sonic #dadow #dadnic #Dadow and Dadnic AU #yeah idk #comic art #kinda lol #implied whump #tw implied death #experimentation #tw blood #only mentioned tho #tails the fox #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #angst? #angst #idk just rambling #its messy #sorry boys #got too silly

[artistotel]

playing w 3d

#original character #oc #3d art #3d model #tw sui mention #webcore #gif #experimental art #art #animation

[whump-kia]

thoughts on lab whump?

hi worlds!

ohohoho lab whump is delicious. the cold disdain for the subject they're experimenting on. harsh restraints and ruthless substances injected in the bloodstream. repetitive beeping to drive the whumpee insane, only a gown to leave them vulnerable, phrases like "go to sleep" and "don't touch that or we're going to have to tie you down" and "arm still. it'll hurt less if you don't fight it." detached whumpers and sensitive whumpees. what a pair.

#whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump community #ask answered #whump ask #kidnapping tw #experimentation whump #experimentation #drug mention #tw drugging

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Angsty Imagine (because I haven’t tormented you all enough for my liking recently):

Eclipse comes back without his memories and hides away in a bunker he finds. After a couple weeks, Moon finds him through the Computer tracking Eclipse and Moon imprisons him, refusing to believe he doesn’t remember anything, using him as a test subject since Eclipse ‘wants to play dumb’ and subjecting him to torture daily.

It’s only when Sun and Lunar finally decide to visit for laughs at Eclipse’s expense that they put a stop to it. They see Eclipse living in constant fear and pain, pleading for Moon to stop and trying to tell him he doesn’t remember anything.

Sun steps in and gets Moon away while Lunar frees and hugs a sobbing Eclipse who hasn’t been treated so gently before and can’t help but cry when Lunar hugs him for the first time in his third life.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #sun and moon show #sams #fnaf eclipse #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf lunar #snoweytrashposts #snoweytalks #snoweyrambles #snoweyrants #sun and moon show imagine #sams imagine #fnaf imagines #tw kidnapping mention #tw trauma mention #tw death mention #tw torture mention #tw experimentation mention #tw pain mention #tw captivity mention #tw imprisonment mention #tw amnesia mention

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 30: Lab Rat + Examination

Continuation of Day 11

Read it on Ao3

- Legend & Hyrule

- Summary: Legend finds himself in the clutches of a mad scientist

CW for torture, experimentation, dehumanization, blood and injury, captivity, mentions of death, and a character briefly wishing for death

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

Someone is talking.

Legend registers their voice dimly, through a fog he can’t make heads or tails of. It drags heavily at him when he tries to surface, oppressive and thick. Memories drift past – sensations of pain, feelings of fear.

There is danger here, they murmur.  

What danger? He asks. But they flit away like fleeting phantoms, leaving his question unanswered.

And so he falls again, drifting on darkness as though it is the waves of the sea, awaiting the moment when everything will come once more into dizzying, blinding focus.

When it does, he almost wishes it hadn’t.

He awakens to the assault of bright lights. They glare down on him from above, glinting off the metal of the table he is strapped to. The rough fabric of the restraints grates at his exposed skin. Something hard and metallic encases his neck, uncomfortably tight when he swallows. 

His eyes widen. The memories come rushing back, now, in a torrent of terror and discomfort. 

Falling from a portal. Trying and failing to save Hyrule. The men on the boat, inspecting him, touching him, hands and breath hot and clammy. His promise…

“Ah, wonderful. You’re awake at last.”

Legend jolts at the voice and tries to sit up. But the restraints hold fast and he ends up only getting a glimpse of a familiar gray-haired man before collapsing back down. His head swims and he blinks a few times, trying to clear it.

“Oh, great,” he says, drily, voice cracking painfully. “It’s you.”

The man chuckles, the sound almost warm. “Indeed. We’re about to get started on something that could be monumental.”

There is a clattering of metallic objects near his head. Legend swallows hard.

“I do hope you are as excited as I am.”

“Oh, yeah I’m real excited. Can’t wait to get poked and prodded by some sadistic creep,” Legend retorts. Panic is rising fast within him, despite his attempts to suppress it. 

“Oh come. Don’t be too quick to judge.” The man moves slightly into his line of sight again, something that looks disturbingly like a knife in his hand. “You are contributing to my research. And that’s a worthwhile thing, I assure you. The information I glean from you can be used for years to come.”

Glean. Legend feels bile rise in his throat at the word. For some unpleasant reason, it brings to mind gutted fish, fit for dissection; dead bugs with their bodies pinned.

“Now, tell me” —The man is facing him now, eagerness in his eyes. Legend fights not to squirm beneath his gaze — “what makes you transform? Is it a curse? A spell? Can you control it?”

Legend glares at him. “If you think I’m just gonna explain everything to you you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”

“It will help this all go faster if you do.” 

Yes, Legend realizes, he is definitely holding a knife. It glints in that cursed painful light. Slowly, he lowers it toward Legend’s legs. 

“It will bring us to the important part of this examination. And most importantly it will ensure that your friend keeps his life.”

Legend jolts upward at that, fighting against the straps that pin him down.

“What do you mean?” There is an edge of harsh panic in his voice and all his strength isn’t enough to hide it. “What do you mean it'll keep my friend alive?! You said he would be safe if I came with you! You said you’d leave him on the shore! I saw you do it! I saw—”

He breaks off with a choked gasp. He is shaking, from cold, from adrenaline, from the fear coursing through him in waves. Then, a door he hadn’t seen before slides open and Hyrule stumbles through, bound and gagged and blindfolded, arm held tightly in the clutches of one of the men from the boat. And he is certain he is going to break right then and there.

“Rulie,” he breathes and Hyrule lifts his head. 

He gives a muffled cry, struggling to try and break free. But his captor wrenches him back with a growl.

“You saw correctly,” the man says, with a calm that belies everything Legend feels. “I kept my promise to you. I left your friend on the shore as you requested. But somehow, he escaped his bonds and found us here. He brought this upon himself. Though, it never hurts to have a bit more leverage.”

The air feels tighter than ever now. Legend struggles to draw a full breath. 

Hyrule, you idiot. Why’d you come here?

He sags back against the table, wincing at the bite of cold metal against his skin. If he wasn’t cornered between a rock and a hard place before, he certainly is now. 

“What causes you to turn?” The man asks, leaning forward. Still, he holds the knife, situating it so close it almost presses into Legend’s knee. Legend doesn’t doubt that as soon as he transforms, it will plunge into his tail, searching out the gory mysteries of it. “Tell me or your friend will pay.”

His voice still embodies the calm of someone who has this entire situation perfectly controlled. And hell, maybe he does. It certainly seems that way.

Legend hates it.

He swallows. His mouth is terribly dry, panic situated in a hard, little ball in his gut. But he forces the words out anyway.

“It’s a curse. I thought it was just a magically-infused tool at first. But after I used it a few times, it became a part of me.” 

His gaze flits from the man’s face to Hyrule, standing rigid, still in his captor’s grip. He is obviously listening — Legend doesn’t know how he wouldn’t be. Of all the ways he had wanted him to find out about his ability, this definitely isn’t one of them. 

I’m so sorry, traveler.

“You cannot control it, then?”

“No.”

The man’s eyes are alight with that hunger again, the one that sends shivers crawling up Legend’s spine and makes him feel ill.

“Perhaps, we can do something about that.”

He motions to someone behind Legend. Footsteps sound and then the next thing the veteran knows, water is pouring down on him from above. He gasps at the icy chill of it, fingernails digging into his palms. It pools on the table, held there by its raised edges. And in response to its touch, Legend’s body begins to transform. 

It is sheer agony.

Usually, the transformation is at least a little painful. His body is morphing, after all, fitting into a form it was not created to take the shape of. But this, this is like nothing he has ever known. It is like the magic within him is a trickle that wants to be a stream, a wave held back by a steadfast barrier.

The collar. It must be suppressing my magic.

He grits his teeth, seeing white. He wishes he could stop it, this onward march of the curse, but he is helpless. All he can do as his legs seal together and gills and fins grow upon him is try not to scream.

Even that is a losing battle.

It comes out as his tail forms – a strangled, almost inhuman sound. It fills his ears, mingling with the pounding of his head and the sounds of Hyrule fighting to get free. And it only tapers off when breathing becomes immensely difficult. 

Though there is enough water to activate the curse, it is not nearly enough for proper airflow. And the collar around his neck covers his gills, restricting it further. Suddenly, Legend is suffocating.

His eyes blow wide and he struggles, gasping vainly for breath. 

“Fascinating. Your biology becomes that of a mer.”

The man comes into view, leaning over him. Roughly, he turns his head this way and that, inspecting him. 

“Please,” Legend croaks, desperately, “can’t–I can’t…”

“Ah, yes of course. Can’t have you dying, can we?”

More water cascades down upon him. Hands grip the collar, loosening it slightly. Legend goes boneless, dragging in large breaths that make him dizzy. 

It’s a bitter mercy, but one nonetheless. At this point, he’ll take what he can get.

“Now, to do something about the uncontrollable nature of this curse.”

Someone is touching his tail now, but Legend doesn’t have the strength to lift his head and see who it is. 

“All things can be brought into submission, you see, with a bit of effort. But first, I must study the makeup of this new body. The changes cannot be fully ascertained from the outside.”

Danger, his mind shouts again. Get out before it finds you.

Still, Legend cannot make sense of it. After the onslaught of pain and near-suffocation, everything feels sluggish and distant. He just wants to sleep. 

But then, Hyrule screams something that sounds awfully like the word “no,” and his tail explodes with pain. The exhaustion flees, replaced by crippling, terrifying agony. Someone is slicing him open, he realizes as he thrashes, choking on blood. They’re cutting into his tail with all the careful precision of a scientist…and without the merciful use of a sedative. Or death.

Aren’t things that are dissected usually dead?

The thought isn’t comforting. Nor is it enough to distract him from the endless pain. He is buffeted by it, suffocated. Everything is on fire, everything too harsh, too bright. Wordlessly, he begs for the sweet release of oblivion. But it doesn’t come. Instead, blurry forms surround him, holding him down as he continues to fight back, tightening his bonds, digging their nails into his skin.

“Remain still,” comes the man’s voice. “If you’re not careful you will cause me to cut something vital.” 

He is moving things around now, from the feel of it. Inspecting his insides, Legend guesses. He doesn’t know for certain. He doesn’t care to. He just wants it all to stop. 

“Please,” he tries to beg, “please stop this.”

But blood gurgles in his throat and he chokes on it, every cough sending sharp aches splintering through him.

“Stay still, brat.”

A sharp slap stings the side of his face. Tears burn hot in Legend’s eyes. His head snaps sideways and he can see him now – Hyrule – fighting desperately against his captor’s restraining grip. The blindfold has fallen as a result of his efforts and his eyes meet Legend’s, large and filled with fury and terror.

He yells something incoherent – perhaps a protest, perhaps a promise. Legend can’t tell. All he knows is that his heart is splitting open along with the rest of his body, the ache of it unbearable. Hyrule shouldn't have to see this. He was never even supposed to be here. 

I failed.

A hiccupped sob tears out of him. Legend shuts his eyes. He is so weak, so helpless. 

Curse this stupid power, curse the people who seek to exploit it, curse the shadowy monster who sent them hurtling through that portal…curse himself for being so foolish. 

He would tear this place apart if he could. He tries, tries to call his magic to his fingertips. Pain is the only thing he gets, pain and the sound of someone yelling at him, chastising him. 

It only adds to everything else. The man comments on how fascinating this form is. Hyrule cries out. Legend screams and screams until his throat is so ruined and hoarse he can’t anymore. 

And then, abruptly, there is no sound at all. Finally, darkness swoops up and swallows him. --------------------------

Everything is a blur after that. A blur of pain and fear, a nauseating rush of color and sound and sensation. Nothing changes and yet everything does. 

Sometimes he is lying on the table, strapped down and held down and thrashing like a wild animal caught in a cage. Others, he floats in what he thinks is a kind of fish tank, cramped and aching, watching rivulets of crimson dance and twirl on blue waters. 

The collar cuts and chokes him. His gills ache from struggling against it. His fins are cut, his scales picked at, some peeled off for examination. His tail hardly even feels like a functional extension of him anymore. It is nothing more than a limp, useless thing made of muscles and nerves, crippled by pain, torn apart by the hungry hands of some mad scientist. He doesn’t even want to know what his legs look like. Not that he could tell anyway. He hasn’t transformed back into a Hylian since the curse took ahold of him here.

They have no use for a Hylian. But apparently, they have every use for a mer.

Legend doesn’t even remember what they wanted with him, or why he is here. He only knows two things now and they are all he really needs to. One, that he can’t escape, no matter how badly he wants to. And two, that being here, enduring all of this, somehow, inexplicably keeps Hyrule alive. 

Even if the traveler’s eyes are bright with pain and tears every time Legend finds them, even if he bears marks from resisting his captors, he is alive. That is all Legend can hope for. He doesn’t have the strength to move beyond that.

So, he hangs on for Rulie’s sake. He hangs on even as he loses everything. Because he can’t lose his brother. He would rather be ripped to shreds and discarded, poked and prodded into oblivion, than watch him die. 

The man has made it quite clear that that is the only alternative. The few times Legend had resisted after the first, he had described the methods in which he would murder Hyrule in intricate, excruciating detail. 

“I will make it painful,” he had said, with that same infuriating calm that made Legend want to rip his head off. “Much more painful than what you’re enduring. And I will make it slow. He will be begging for death by the time I finish.”

Legend had given him a glare that could make Ganondorf quiver. But he hadn’t fought any more after that. 

No. His fight is all internal now, a battle to hang on to the shreds of life he still has. He is stubborn to a fault, that’s for certain. But sometimes he wishes he wasn’t. Sometimes he wishes he would simply allow himself to fade away.

In the end, though, he is glad that he doesn’t.

There is nothing to herald an unexpected rescue. Nothing at all. He has been dunked in the tank today, barely holding on to consciousness, drifting in a sea of pain. Hylia only knows how much blood he has lost, or if he is trapped in this form forever, or if his tail will ever work again, his wounds ever heal. It hurts so badly. But he has no tears left to cry.

When a flash of familiar blue streaks through the room, however, he nearly sobs anyway.

The one thing these monsters haven’t tried is making him believe in a false reality. But the sounds of his captors hitting the ground, the sight of Warriors’ face next to the glass, his hand pressed to it as he asks him questions Legend lacks the energy to understand…it all seems like a dream. 

Then, someone is lifting him from the water, gently, carefully, and voices are swelling around him. The voices of his brothers. He curls into the arms that embrace him. A vibrant blue scarf is draped over his shoulders and he grasps it, fingers fisting in the soft fabric.

He must have changed back not long after leaving the water, body undoubtedly eager to revert to its natural state. Because for the first time in what feels like an eternity, he can feel air filtering in through his nostrils.

Legend sinks further into Warriors’ embrace, nestling into his scarf. Everything aches and his skin feels raw, almost stretched. But he is safe, secure in the arms of the people he loves. And they will take care of him. They always do.

Sure enough, their voices begin to become clearer, all familiar, all reassuring.

“I’ve got you, vet.”

“You’re safe now. We won’t let those creeps touch you again.”

“We need to get this collar off him…”

“We will. Let’s get these wounds taken care of first.”

“We’re gonna take care of you, Ledge. Just you wait. Hyrule’s spell will work. It always does.”

Hyrule…

Legend drags open his eyes, peeking out from his cocoon of warmth. 

“R-rule…where…”

“I’m right here, Ledge. Don’t worry.”

Hazel eyes meet his own. A calloused hand cups his cheek. There is so much guilt in Hyrule’s expression, so much pain that Legend’s heart aches from it. 

It’s not your fault. None of it is, he wants to say, but all that comes out is a groan as magic begins to flow into his body. It is equal parts pain and relief. His eyes flutter closed again as it seeks his wounds, mending them little by little. 

“I’ll heal everything I can,” Hyrule continues. “You’ll have scars and…and I can’t promise your mer form will be the same it used to be. But…I’ll do my best.”

Legend hums, only distantly aware of the sound rumbling in his throat. Hyule’s magic grows stronger, more determined, rushing like waves through him, and he loses himself in it. It wraps around him, envelops him in warmth and safety and a fire that is all Rulie’s own. He is safe in it, wounds soothed, agony growing dimmer.

Then, abruptly, it stops. 

Legend gasps at the suddenness of its retraction, eyes shooting open, panic lighting up within him. 

“What…”

He doesn’t have to find the strength to finish the question. He can see him through the forms of his brothers situated protectively around him – the man who had torn him apart. He stands a short distance away, eyes snapping with anger, a strange, little device in his hands. 

Legend has a nagging feeling that he has seen it before, somewhere in those memories that are little more than a horrifying haze of agony. But he can’t recall what it is used for…or if he has ever even seen it in action. If it caused him pain, it was likely lumped in with everything else. Too much pain, he has learned, quickly becomes one, single, incomprehensible blur.

“Give him back!” he demands, sounding angrier and more fearful than Legend has ever heard before. “Give my research back or I'll use this!”

“He is not your research and we will not return him to you,” Time growls, his voice a thunderclap. “Stand back or we will make you.”

He levels his claymore at him, but the man doesn’t budge.

“You haven’t been able to get that collar off yet, have you? Well, with just one push of a button” – He holds up the device, fingering one of the many, small buttons upon it – “it will cut off his magic completely. I don’t know if you know this, given that you are not experts like myself, but he is so intricately linked with his magic now that he needs it to survive. It can be twisted and turned if one can find out how. But it cannot be ripped from him, or torn away.”

Legend’s grip of Warriors’ scarf tightens. He exhales a shuddering breath. 

He doesn’t doubt what the man says. To be deprived of his magic…well, he doesn’t even know what that feels like. He doesn’t want to know.

“You won’t kill him,” the captain says, eerily calm. “You need him. You can’t work with someone who is already dead.”

“I can make do,” the man replies. “A dead subject is better than none at all.”

He lifts the device a little higher, finger almost pressing the button. “Now, give him to me or I’ll do it.”

Legend tenses. But then he feels Warriors hand, traveling upward as though to cup his head. His fingers swiftly change direction, playing along the collar instead, searching out a way to remove it. After a moment, they catch on a small latch. He pulls and with a streak of relief, Legend feels the collar loosen.

Hyrule glances back at him from where he had risen, a human barrier between Legend and the scientist. Something unspoken passes between them and suddenly, Hyrule’s fingertips crackle with energy.

Time steps forward. “We would never give our brother to a monster.”

The man scowls. “So be it.”

He presses the button. Warriors pushes down on the latch, hard, and the collar slips from Legend’s neck. It clatters to the ground, reverberating with an unsettling energy. Wind kicks it away.

At the same time, Hyrule leaps forward, arm outstretched. Magic courses through him, hitting the man with such force he flies back and into the wall. He collides with it with a sharp crack and slides down, limp and almost lifeless. 

“Well done, traveler,” Time says, already stalking toward the figure. “I’ll make sure he is secured.”

“Then we can get out of this place,” Wild says. “I’ll bet our vet is more than ready to get back to camp.”

Legend nods, choking out the breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. He curls into Warriors, trembling slightly, and the captain tightens his grip on him in return. 

“They’re all gone,” he assures him, softly. He cards a hand through his hair and Legend shudders, slightly, eyes going half-lidded. It has been so long since he was touched in this way, since the hands that held him were gentle and trustworthy and kind rather than rough, vengeful, and agonizing.

“That scientist was the last one.”

Thank the gods.

Hyrule kneels before him again, fire in his gaze, emerald magic glowing in the palms of his hands.

“We’ll be out of here soon, vet. But for now, let me heal you properly. It’s the least I can do.”

The magic comes again like the wind on a warm, summer day. Legend closes his eyes and lets it envelop him.

#whumptober 2023 #no.30 #lab rat #examination #linkeduniverse #fic #torture tw #blood tw #injury tw #experimentation tw #dehumanisation tw #mentions of death #captivity tw #trin writes #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu chain #wheeee this one's a doozy #big and whumpy XD #poor legend #i really put him through it this month

[violetlunette]

TwstOber Day 16: Rodent

TW: Mentions of torture and experimentation

“I don’t get why humans are seen as a big deal to everyone. You’re more like little rodents to me.” Silver didn’t respond, unable to due to the gag that filled his mouth as he lay strapped to a table. He tugged on his arm but the bindings held as tight as ever. Inwardly, Silver cursed himself. Despite all his father’s efforts, he had allowed himself to get kidnapped by this mad fae and taken to—this place, wherever it was. An involuntary shiver passed over Silver’s body as the icy wind brushed against his skin. He was only barely wearing a t-shirt right now as the rest had been torn away for the mad fae above him to have better access for her tools, many of which had already been used to cut into him before stitching him up. Even his pants had been stripped away for the fae to “get the freshest blood” from his thigh. Silver swallowed a whimper as a fresh sting of pain coarse through his being. He hated this. He wanted to go back home to where he was sure his father was waiting. And he hated how childish that sounded. After all, he was almost sixteen. By human standards, he would be an adult soon, and here he was—whimpering his mind about wanting to return to his dad. “Still,” Silver looked up with dread as the fae’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Like, rats, I suppose you do have your uses.” With that, the fae withdrew a long, thick needle filled with a dark, black liquid. He paled to a ghostly white as he could only imagine what that stuff was going to do to him next. The mad fae smiled at Silver’s panicked expression. “Now, hold still, dear. I don’t want you to break just yet. There’s so much more fun to be had.” “Ngh!” Silver cried out and tried to pull away but was trapped like the rat she claimed he was and wasn’t able to stop the needle from breaking skin. His vision went white with pain.

#twst wonderland #twst silver #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #silver twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #silver twst #silver vanrouge #twst diasomnia #twstficlet #I hate that these are so short but I bit off more than I could chew this year #And just realized that I should of just drawn Silver as mouse and that would have been easier #oof #oh well #tw mentions of torture #tw experimentation mentioned

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

A crossover between my Mama Bear AU’s Mikey and @daboyau’s leave luanne Mikey!

Four wakes up in an unfamiliar place. Usually when his eyes open in the morning he’s staring up at shadowy rafters and feeling the aches and nausea from their blood drawing of the previous day.

So far he’s completely fine and looking up at a ceiling of pale yellow next to a wall adorned with soft, twinkling lights.

He’s mesmerized.

Lights aren’t usually this…..nice. They always tended to be somewhat blinding or cold when they’re the ones inside.

He’s pulled away from staring and bolts straight up when he smells something delicious wafting his way.

His new view however confuses him a lot more.

All around him is as soft as the lights.

Blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, various items probably belonging to people scattered around as if they would not be punished for it.

A mrrbt sound causes him to look down.

His jaw drops.

A fuzzy creature is laying across his legs and looking up at him so adorably.

Th creature stretches out its arms while curling its back before pressing a paw to his plastron.

Four very carefully picks up the creature, taking in the way its fur feels against his hand and the sudden and audible vibration coming from it.

He holds it close and presses his face against the creature’s. There’s no way to describe the joy he feels as it nuzzles back and tickles his face with its whiskers.

Eventually, it wriggles out of his hold and hops onto the floor.

He pouts slightly before swinging his legs over and standing up.

Something feels off right away.

He’s taller.

How could he have changed height? An experiment Draxum didn’t tell them about? Does that mean everyone would be bigger?

Is that why they were taken to wherever this is?

Another sniff of the delicious smell fills his mind with more need to eat rather than figuring anything out.

It’s odd he’s smelling something like this when they only eat on extraction days.

It’s even more odd when he sees where the smell is coming from.

A woman, a human of all things, is cooking!

A real live human! Right in front of him!

And standing next to…..Draxum?

Where is his helmet?

Why is he wearing different clothing?

Why isn’t he getting rid of the human?

“I told you I am not adding mystic items to this soup.” The woman says firmly.

Four is completely shocked that she’s speaking to him that way and not immediately getting punished.

“Don’t you want them to have all the necessary items to grow strong and healthy?” Draxum insists.

“You already mutated them to survive anything, and meat and vegetables are more than enough to help with that.”

Four’s mouth waters.

Meat and vegetables? Together? That pot looks so large!

What is happening?

Draxum notices Four standing there, making him slightly nervous that he isn’t supposed to be interrupting.

“Did you sleep well?”

Four blinks in surprise.

“U-Um…..yes, sir….”

Draxum looks at him like he’s said the wrong thing.

Four panics.

“I mean yes, lord Baron Draxum sir!” He quickly salutes.

The woman laughs.

Draxum grumbles.

“I was just asking a question. There’s no need to be sarcastic like your brothers.”

He’s not mad? And the woman can laugh at it too!? Who is she!?

“I’m….I’m sorry….”

The woman nudges Draxum.

“You made him upset! You know what you should do.”

Draxum sighs and opens up his arms.

“Fine. Come here for your hug.”

Four’s mind immediately goes to thinking this is some sort of test but quickly disregards that in favor of getting a hug from his creator.

He leaps into his arms and hugs him tightly, nuzzling him like he did the creature earlier, savoring every last second of this interaction.

Draxum hugs him back close and pats his head.

“Yes yes, there there, other comforting phrases.”

Four smiles widely.

Never in his wildest dreams would he imagine Draxum acting this way.

“Here, taste the soup and see if it needs anything added to it.” The woman says as she holds a spoon up to his mouth.

Four doesn’t even blow on it as he quickly takes it into his mouth. The warm taste dribbles into his mouth and down his throat. He takes great care in chewing the meat and vegetables.

“Honey, be careful! That was still hot! Are you okay? Is your tongue burnt?”

Four shakes his head, still with his wide smile. It’s so silly to him that she’s worried about something like that. He’s probably healed already and the pain is nothing compared to the training and experiments he goes through anyways.

He finally swallows the food.

“It tastes great! Can I have more?”

The woman still looks concerned, but answers anyways.

“Once Luke and your brothers get back we can all eat.”

Four squeals loudly in happiness.

He gets to see all them outside of training!? And they get to enjoy the food together!? They don’t even need to give blood!?

Is this a dream?

If it is, he hopes his brothers are having the same one, along with the warm feeling of soup in their stomachs.

Who’s Luke?

Do they get to meet someone new!?

He hears a door open.

“Oh, there they are.” The woman continues.

Four hops off Draxum and rushes back into the other room.

He trips over his own feet, still not used to this height, and his hands scramble to try to stay standing.

Arms catch him, but not before he accidentally pulls something off whoever caught him.

He looks up and sees a giant yokai standing right in front of him.

Four is star struck.

The yokai, Luke he’s guessing from what the woman said, is large in both height in size. There’s scales covering his body, claws on his hand, and a large tail behind him.

“A-Are you okay? What did you trip on?”

“I’m okay! And my own feet! You are so cool!!” Mikey pulls himself over Luke’s shoulder so he can sit on top.

Luke places a hand on his calf to keep Mikey steady and shyly looks to the side.

“Th-Thank you. Can I have my necklace back please?”

Mikey drops the item in his hand back to Luke.

“Graceful one second and falling over the next. That’s our little brother.” A familiar but slightly deeper voice comments.

Four quickly looks at the source of the voice.

It sounds like Three, but it’s slightly deeper than how he usually sounds.

He seems like a brother, but not…..his brother.

Not exactly.

He’s older, a couple of years at most.

He’s so…..happy, relaxed.

In a real way.

Not for pretend.

He also has a very different outfit but one that still matches with Two and One who also seem different in the same ways.

“Three…? Is that really you?”

Leo looks at him in confusion.

“Three? What, are you ranking us now? Why am I Three!? Who’s One!?”

Four points to Raph who almost starts tearing up.

“Raph’s number one?”

Four’s eyes widen.

He has a name.

A real name.

How?

“So Donnie is two!? Why!? I saved you from a fake ghost and I’m only three!? Brotherly betrayal!” Leo says, his words dripping with dramatics.

Four isn’t sure what’s going on.

“Because….Two is older.”

Leo gasps loudly and puts a hand to his plastron.

“You’re taking his side!?”

Donnie has the smuggest expression imaginable plastered on his face.

“Well, that solves this fight forever! I always knew I’d reign supreme as the victor.”

They both stare at each other before Leo starts off a slap fight. Four is worried at first that they’re going to fight like they do in training, but this seems way more….silly?

Raph walks over to Four with a smile.

“Why’d ya want to make nicknames like that, Mikey?“

Mikey?

Mikey.

He has a name too.

This really must be a dream.

It’s so weird, but this kind of world is everything he ever dreamed of.

“Um…..I thought of them when I was sleeping.”

“I wonder what number that would make pops.”

Four is confused once again and looks around.

Does he mean Draxum?

While he did create them, he was very clear that he was not their father and they were not his spawn. They were created with the DNA of a famous warrior-

…….Wait.

It can’t be….

“Boys! No slap fighting or you won’t get any bread!”

Donnie and Leo begrudgingly end their match with Leo sticking his tongue out at Donnie.

Four looks over at the new human and something in his heart suddenly floods with an ache he can’t describe. He knows so little about this person and yet it’s like he was supposed to.

Maybe he has met him, before he could remember.

He climbs down and carefully approaches him.

The human looks at him expectingly, but his eyes are warm. Everything about him makes Four yearn for something he’s never felt.

Four slowly reaches his arms out to him.

The human hands Raph the bread and pulls Four into a close hug.

“I missed you too Orange, did you have a good rest? Is your headache gone? I brought you some medicine in the flavor you like.”

Four hugs him back tightly as hot, large droplets of tears roll down his cheeks.

Splinter panics.

“What’s wrong!? It does still hurt!? Do you have a fever?” He presses the back of his hand to his forehead.

Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Luke start all talking at once, trying to think of different things to offer Four to help him feel better.

The woman and Draxum even come in to see what’s going on.

Four wipes his eyes.

“I’m okay. Can I just get a hug from everyone else too?”

“You heard him, turtle pile!” Leo shouts before hugging them both.

All the others join in after, wrapping Four and Splinter in a giant basket of warmth.

Afterwards, and once Four has assured them that he feels fine, they go to the table in the kitchen and take their seats. The woman puts the bread that was brought in the oven. Once it’s done, she serves it with butter and the soup.

As everyone eats, they talk about their days while Four listens intently.

It’s everything he ever dreamed of his family doing.

Walking out on the surface and having as much fun as possible. Being able to do what they want without even thinking about what they’re supposed to be doing.

Three and One are even in love! Unbelievable!

Not to mention that Two is absolutely thriving. He can talk almost aimlessly about all the inventions he’s been working on with Luke.

Draxum, Splinter, and the woman who Four learns is named Julia, are so so proud of him.

Of all of them.

Not over just how useful they are. Just things that make them happy.

Four is allowed to eat as much as he wants which he does. Instead of Draxum reprimanding him, he doesn’t even bat an eye at it. Julia had pat his head and seemed glad he enjoyed it so much.

Draxum and Julia take care of the dishes no matter how many times Four and Raph ask about helping.

Julia insists that they both go play a video game or watch a movie together.

So, they do.

Four continues to be mystified about everything in front of them. He’s seeing his brothers like they’ve never acted before. They don’t have a care in the world.

He mostly snuggles up to Raph or Splinter while watching the others play or just during the movies they put on.

Four isn’t sure why, but Raph seems to really appreciate how much he’s holding onto him.

When everyone starts dozing off in various parts of the room, Four pulls Raph with him to lay next to them.

Raph smiles and curls around him.

“Love ya, big man.”

“I love you too. You’re a really good brother.”

Raph tears up happily and smiles more before slowly falling asleep.

Four holds onto Leo and Donnie’s hands, receiving a squeeze in return despite them being asleep.

He closes his eyes as well.

Maybe this isn’t a dream. Maybe it’s a nice future where they forget all about their numbers and have names and have a dad, a new brother, just more family.

It’s nice to think about.

#leave luanne au #leaveau #mama bear au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #tw blood mention #tw experimentation #tw implied abuse

[generic-sonic-fan]

My Soul To Keep

Summary: There’s been a close call. Rouge nearly doesn’t make it, leaving Shadow panicky and uncertain. To allay his fears, Team Dark sits down and discusses their plans for the worst case scenario. 

3913 words

Rouge comes home from the hospital three days later.

Omega’s carrying her bag, and Shadow is carrying her, helping her limp over to the couch. The baggy shirt she’s wearing covers the bandages criss-crossed over her stomach. He and Omega had spent those three days, before she got home, blaming themselves and each other. Too slow. Distracted. Extraneous variables. Stupid mistake. They’d slinged it all, at this point, gotten it out of their systems so that she didn’t have to hear the pity party. 

It doesn’t stop Shadow’s hands from shaking. 

“Set me down, riiiiiiiiiiiiiight here.” Rouge groans as she slides onto the couch cushions. “And set my stuff in the bedroom, okay, big boy?”

Omega tromps off down the hall. 

“Anything you need?” Shadow asks.

“More of the happy stuff they have at the hospital.”

“You're clear for another dose of painkillers in three hours and twelve minutes. You need water, and food, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Not hungry, but I’m not going to lose my lunch over it. Did you two eat all the twinkies while I was gone?”

“I AM INCAPABLE OF CONSUMING ORGANIC SUBSTANCES.” Omega returns from the hall. 

Shadow goes to the kitchen and fills a tall glass of water. He sets this on the end table beside her. He then retrieves a box of saltine crackers from where they've been shoved in the back of the pantry. 

“. . . not what twinkie wrappers sound like.” Rouge mumbles from the couch. 

He places the saltines beside her as well. “If you want something sweet, I can make you some tea.”

“Too hot. I’m boiling already.”

“Omega, grab an ice tray, then?”

“YOU FORGOT TO SAY THE MAGIC WORD.”

Rouge snorts. She’s trying not to laugh, but her chest shakes anyway, and she cringes as she smiles. 

“Please?” Shadow sighs.

Omega goes to the freezer. Shadow opens the tea drawer and retrieves the peach-and-ginger blend. He grabs a mug from the cupboard, fills it with water, then sticks it in the microwave. Three minutes later, the timer dings. Shadow dips the tea bag into the just-boiling water and waits. Omega returns with the ice tray and starts fishing the cubes into a water bottle. The tea bag is removed, sugar added, and the concoction poured over the ice, sealed over with a lid and straw. Shadow delivers it into Rouge’s waiting hands. 

“You’re too good for me.” She murmurs. 

“CORRECT. I AM.” Omega touts from the kitchen.

“Stop making her laugh.” Shadow says. 

It’s too late, of course. She’s already giggling between pained gasps. 

“SHE WILL BE ALRIGHT. IF LAUGHTER COULD KILL, I WOULD ALREADY BE A COMEDIAN.”

“You’re enough of a clown for it.” Rouge says. 

Now Shadow’s laughing, too, despite himself. Rouge takes a big sip of her tea, letting out a faint “Mmmm” as she sucks it down the straw. She then reaches the cup over to the end table. Her hand slips, the cup falls. 

She jerks forward to try and catch it and now there’s little dots of red poking through her oversized shirt. 

Shadow grabs her shoulders and pushes her back against the couch cushions. He holds her down, rips her shirt open, and feels along the bandages. His fingers grow damp. He presses a firm palm down. She cries out.

“Stay still!” He screams back. 

His damn hand won’t stop shaking. She’s bleeding and he can’t stop shaking and it’s not helping and he needs to do better he needs to be better he needs to STOP SHAKING-

The world around slows. Breathe, in and out. Stop the bleeding. Apologize. Check the IV. Find a doctor onboard to rebind her wounds. 

“I’m sorry.” Shadow chokes out. “The pressure will stop the bleeding-”

“THE BLEEDING HAS CEASED. STOP APPLYING PRESSURE.”

Shadow lifts his palm. He checks her own. There’s no IV line. There’s. . .

“SLOW YOUR BREATHING. IT IS ADVISABLE THAT YOU EXCUSE YOURSELF TO YOUR ROOM TO CALM DOWN. I WILL ATTEND TO ROUGE. MY KNOWLEDGE OF DESTROYING MEATBAG ANATOMY ALSO LENDS WELL ENOUGH TO MAINTAINING IT.”

A hand on his shoulder. 

“SHE WILL BE ALRIGHT. GO.”

He stands. The world sways. His pulse is roaring in his ears and energy crackles at his fingertips. He focuses it without needing to utter the words, and with a resounding crack he’s back in his room. He falls onto the bed, curls himself under the weighted blanket, and lets the burning tears finally fall out of his eyes. 

After some amount of time shaking and sobbing like the pathetic coward he is, he sticks his head out of the blanket and listens. Omega is saying something he can’t make out. Then, Rouge’s voice, just barely audible. The walls shake with Omega’s footsteps coming down the hall. Shadow untangles himself from the blanket and sets his feet against the ground.

“ROUGE HAS INSTRUCTED ME TO ‘CHECK IN’ ON YOUR EMOTIONAL STATE.” Omega opens the door.

“How is she?”

“AS I HAVE SAID PRIOR: SHE IS ALRIGHT.”

Of course she is. Of fucking course she is. Just a tiny bit of blood and he lost his goddamn mind about it. He grabs at his quills, pulling them just hard enough to hurt. 

“WHAT IS YOUR STATUS?”

“I’m fine.”

“ROUGE SHOWED ME A MEME SHE FOUND ‘RELATABLE’ ON HER INSTAGRAM FEED TWO MONTHS AND SIX DAYS AGO. THE MEME STATED THAT ‘FINE’ STOOD FOR ‘FREAKED OUT, INSECURE, NEUROTIC, AND EMOTIONAL’. UNDER THIS DEFINITION, YOU ARE INDEED ‘FINE’.”

“Shut up! Leave me alone!”

“NOTED.”

Omega leaves. Shadow’s tempted to tear his quills all the way out, but that would leave him with a migraine, and he can’t be where he’s needed if he can hardly stand. Not that he’s much help to anyone. Not like he’d do anything other than flip out at the slightest provocation. Might as well start screaming her name around to complete the look, right?

He immediately catches that thought and curls in on himself. He whispers an apology against his fur, lips forming the shape of the name. Lips part. Teeth come together. Mouth opens, ending on the “ah”. He’s sorry he even thought to take her name in vain. She doesn't deserve it.

She didn’t deserve any of it. Neither does Rouge. He knows he’s projecting; Rouge hates it when he does that. She doesn’t say anything but he knows she hates it. 

“ROUGE IS REQUESTING TO SEE YOU.”

Omega stands in the doorway again. Shadow slides off the bed. They return to the living room.

“I’m sorry.” He says the moment his eyes hit the couch. 

“It’s okay.” Rouge replies. She’s wearing a different t-shirt now. The old one is bunched on the coffee table. It smells of ginger and peach. 

“I’ll do better next time.”

“Well, gee, it’s almost like your best friend could’ve died. I’d be more offended if this didn’t happen at some point.”

He’d been hoping this wouldn’t happen at all, but he doesn’t tell her that. The less therapy she has to give while she herself should be the one getting taken care of, the better.

“IT IS ONLY LOGICAL FOR YOUR MEATBAG BRAIN TO BE EXPERIENCING HIGH LEVELS OF STRESS IN THIS SCENARIO.”

“Not helping, Omega.” Rouge says.

“I AM FORTUNATE TO NOT EXPERIENCE SUCH STRESS. HOWEVER, IN THE DAYS PRECEDING TO NOW, MY RAGE LEVELS HAVE BEEN HEIGHTENED TO THE POINT OF MY PROCESSOR EXPERIENCING OVERHEAT WARNINGS.”

“I know. You yelled at me plenty about it.” Shadow replies.

“I RAGE. I RAGE AT THE MAN WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS INJURY.” Omega slams his fists together. “I SHALL RIP HIM INTO 1,684 TINY LITTLE PIECES UPON OUR NEXT ENCOUNTER.” 

“You sure will.” Rouge murmurs. 

“AND YOU, SHADOW?”

“I’m going to start taking solo missions. Permanently”

“Don’t you dare.”

“DON’T YOU DARE.”

“You only have so much time. I’m not going to have that taken away from you.”

“FALSE. I AM A ROBOT. MY LIFESPAN IS THEORETICALLY AS INFINITE AS YOURS-”

“Shut your trap, both of you!” Rouge says. “It doesn’t matter who’s immortal and bulletproof and ‘Ultimate’ or whatever. You two aren’t so invincible either. You’re not leaving me behind.”

“I’m not-!” Shadow stops himself. “Please, Rouge.” 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, cringing as her chest falls up and down. She shakes her head. “I get it. I know why you’re on about this so much. But I don’t know what to say other than that you can’t stop me.”

A pause. Projecting, again. He grits his teeth. He doesn't say anything.

“I’m going to get hurt. Hell, I’m going to die someday. You’re gonna have to get over that because I’m not about to stop living my life over it.”

“I know.” 

“YOU KNOW THE VAGUE CONCEPT, IN THEORY. IT MAY HELP IF WE DISCUSS MORE CONCRETE DETAILS.”

“What do you mean?” Rouge asks. 

“ROUGE, WHAT SHALL WE DO IN THE EVENT OF YOUR DEATH?”

Rouge’s eyes flick once over Shadow’s face, before puzzling in the direction of Omega. “As in, funerals, and the like?”

“CORRECT. THROUGH MY RESEARCH INTO THE DEATH AND DESTRUCTION OF MEATBAGS, I HAVE DISCOVERED THAT THERE ARE MANY WAYS TO TEND TO A BODY. SOME ARE MORE RITUALISTIC THAN OTHERS.”

“We can talk about this later.” Rouge glances back to Shadow. 

She’s begging Omega, with her eyes, to notice what she imagines are eggshells, a covert intention made obvious by her pain and fatigue. It stings a little to think that she’s so concerned with setting him off again.

“Actually,” Shadow finds a spot on the floor and sits down. “I would like to know now.”

“You sure?”

“Maria and I talked about this sometimes.” The name is still heavy in his mouth, and leaves a bitter aftertaste, but he says it with as much normality as he can muster. 

“BECAUSE OF HER TERMINAL DIAGNOSIS, CORRECT?”

Shadow nods.

“Makes sense.” Rouge says. 

“So. . . what do you want me to do when you are gone?” Shadow asks. 

“You’re being a little presumptuous there, hun. I’m not the only one who can catch bullets. Or burn up upon re-entry, as the case may be for some of us.”

“HA. HA. HA.” Omega vibrates up and down.

“I’m being serious! Tell me- what do you want me to do?”

“Guess I should get around to penning a will, shouldn’t I? I’m not letting my collection go to just anyone.”

“I WOULD REQUEST CUSTODY OF YOUR EXTENSIVE GEMSTONE COLLECTION.”

“Why?”

“TO SELL AND PURCHASE MORE WEAPONS WITH.”

“My point exactly.” Rouge rolls her eyes. “But besides that. . . well, I’m not going to lie, I actually have thought about this a fair amount. Shadow, Omega, I’m reserving my place on your fireplace mantle.”

“We don’t have a fireplace?”

“Not yet, silly. In the future, when you’re both rich and famous and have a house with one. I want the spot right and center. My Nan had her urn on Mama’s fireplace, but she got shoved behind pictures of the family dog. If you do that to me, I’m coming back to haunt your asses.”

“Are you sure you want your ashes kept in one place?”

“Well, someone has to keep an eye on you two.”

“TO ENSURE THAT I DO NOT SELL YOUR EXTENSIVE GEM COLLECTION?”

“Not just that. But to make sure you’re doing okay, you know? And so that you have something to look at and remember me by.”

“MY MEMORY BANKS, UNLIKE YOUR FEEBLE ORGANIC BRAINS, DO NOT REQUIRE SUCH JOGGING. HOWEVER. . . I UNDERSTAND THE INTENDED SENTIMENT. SURROUNDING ONESELF WITH OBJECTS THAT ARE PLEASING IS A DESIRABLE OBJECTIVE.”

“'Pleasing'? Oh please, it’s going to be absolutely lavish. I’ll put that in the will- I want my urn to be absolutely encrusted with my gems. I want to be more valuable than the Mona Lisa by the time I’m finished.”

“People will be looking to steal you, then.” Shadow says

“Which is why I picked the two most lethal people on the planet to keep me!” Rouge throws her head back as best she can, despite already having her head resting on the arm of the couch, and winks. 

“REST ASSURED, ROUGE. NOT A SINGLE FINGER WILL BE LAID UPON YOUR URN FOR AS LONG AS I FUNCTION. THIS I SWEAR.” Omega pounds a fist against his chest. 

“You two will be old fogies by that point anyway. You’ll need something to keep you on your toes.” She smiles.

“Thank you.” Shadow says. “For trusting us with this.”

“Of course. Who else could I possibly pick?”

Shadow reaches for her hand. She sees this and dangles it off the couch cushion for him to hold. He grasps her wrist, first, feeling the pulse beating inside of it. Then he slides between her fingers and presses their palms together. 

“Okay, I’m done. What about you, Omega?” Rouge looks over. 

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.”

“We just went over what happens when I kick the bucket- what about you?”

“BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME I WILL PERISH.”

“It’s a contingency.” Shadow clarifies. “Take this seriously. What would you like us to do?”

“A MORE IMPORTANT CONSIDERATION IS WHEN YOU SHOULD DECLARE ME ‘DECEASED’. I AM INORGANIC. I CAN ALWAYS BE REPAIRED.”

“And?” Rouge prods.

“. . . I WISH TO REMAIN MYSELF.” Omega eventually says. “IN THE EVENT OF PROGRAM CORRUPTION OF OVER 65%, I DESIRE TO BE DEACTIVATED.”

“What, and the other 35% is somehow not worth our time?” Shadow snaps, harder than he means to. “Are you not worth getting to know again?”

“YOU CONFLATE THE CORRUPTION OF MY PROGRAMMING WITH THE LOSS OF YOUR MEMORIES. THOUGH MY KNOWLEDGE OF ORGANIC AMNESIA IS ADMITTEDLY QUITE PRIMITIVE, I CAN ASSURE YOU THE TWO ARE DIFFERENT.”

“Are they?”

“65% IS A SIGNIFICANT PORTION OF FUNCTIONALITY LOST, A HIGHER MARGIN THAN I WOULD HAVE ALLOWED EVEN A FEW MONTHS AGO. IT IS DOUBTFUL, AFTER CROSSING THAT MARGIN, THAT I WILL EVER BE FUNCTIONAL AGAIN WITHOUT SIGNIFICANT REWRITES. ANY ‘REPAIRS’ GIVEN WILL BE GENERATING PROCESSES THAT HAVE NEVER EXISTED. YOU WILL BE CREATING SOMETHING NEW. I DO NOT WISH FOR A NEW PROGRAM TO USE MY FORM. I WISH TO BE DEACTIVATED.”

“It would be like. . . someone putting fake memories in your head.” Shadow whispers. Rouge’s hand grips tighter around his.

“CORRECT. DO YOU REQUIRE ANY FURTHER CLARIFICATION?”

Shadow shakes his head. 

“GOOD. MOVING ON, UPON DEACTIVATION, I DESIRE FOR MY BODY TO BE MELTED DOWN AND MY ALLOY USED TO CONSTRUCT LETHAL WEAPONS.”

“Fitting.” Rouge smiles.

“I HAVE CALCULATED THAT I WILL HAVE ENOUGH SUITABLE MATERIAL TO MAKE TWO ROCKET LAUNCHERS, SIX RIFLES, AND APPROXIMATELY EIGHT PISTOLS.”

“Any preference in caliber?” Shadow asks.

“THE MORE DESTRUCTIVE, THE BETTER.”

“I’ll ensure there’s a 50. cal somewhere in there.”

“YOU- AND ROUGE, IF APPLICABLE -WILL HAVE FIRST CHOICE OF WHAT IS PRODUCED.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Shadow says. 

“ONE MORE RULE.”

“Go for it. Shoot.” Rouge says.

“YOU MAY ONLY USE THESE WEAPONS IF YOU MEAN IT. YOU MAY ONLY KILL, INJURE, OR DESTROY WITH THESE WEAPONS. TARGET DUMMIES DO NOT COUNT.” Omega crosses his arms. 

“May I take them out to the target range to practice with them as long as I utilize them on a proper mission soon after?” Shadow says.

“I SUPPOSE THAT IS ACCEPTABLE.”

“How about for home defense?” Rouge asks. “You don’t mind if you hang from a wall most of the time, do you?”

“ALSO ACCEPTABLE. DETERRENCE COUNTS AS PROPER USE.”

“Good. Thanks, big boy. That’s a really great plan. You’ve thought about this a lot too, huh?” She says. “Glad I’m not the only one. I felt a little weird about it.”

“IT IS NOW SHADOW’S TURN TO DISCUSS HIS PLAN FOR AFTER HIS DEATH.”

“There’s no point. You two aren’t going to have to worry about it.”

“Given that you’re the only one of us who’s had a funeral already, I call bullshit.” Rouge replies.

She’s referencing the strange little event that Sonic held with all of his friends after the ARK. She’d gone. Said a few words, though she never told him what they were. What could you possibly have to say about a person that had spent only a few hours being on good terms with you? Sonic had found things to say too, apparently. Perhaps the guilt made it easy.

“I know what I want, and that’s to stay alive so that you two never have to worry about it.” Shadow replies.

“IT’S A CONTINGENCY.” Omega steps closer. “TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY.”

Shadow looks down. He lets go of Rouge’s hand. He folds his hands in his lap. He notices, upon further studying, a bit of red on his fur where there shouldn’t be. He hadn’t even washed his hands after dealing with Rouge’s wound. 

“I haven’t thought about it much.” He says.

“Okay, do you know what you don’t want, at least?”

An urn, he almost says. The idea of being confined to one place for all eternity, lingering, haunting, is. . .

“Not sure.” He replies. 

“Graveyard? Cremation? Something weird and different? Don’t tell me you’re going to donate to science.”

“Absolutely not!” His quills flare.

“NOTED. I WILL NOT PERMIT ANY SCIENTISTS TO STUDY YOUR CORPSE.” 

. . . Maria’s body had been studied, according to the records, then her existence sterilized like the rest of the ARK had been. Shadow knows, consciously, that the drop pod room is empty, but without having seen what had happened after, it is difficult to believe she isn’t still laying there. 

“Cremation.” He finally says. “I want my body destroyed.”

“So who’s shelf are you sitting on?”

“No one’s.”

“Scattered, then? Any particular location?”

He pauses. “Mount Everest.”

“Huh. Interesting. Is it okay if it’s, like, at the bottom? Or do we have to go all the way to the tippy-top?” Rouge asks.

“The top. Spread to the winds.”

“Making me work real hard for this.”

“I WILL DO IT. I AM A ROBOT; I DO NOT REQUIRE OXYGEN NOR DO I EXPERIENCE FATIGUE.”

“Thanks,” Shadow says.

“Why there?” Rouge asks.

“To make it inconvenient for you.”

Rouge rolls her eyes. “Sure.”

 “And. . . do it at night. Under the stars.” He adds.

“YOU HAVE SELECTED THE HIGHEST POINT ON THIS PLANET. YOU THEN FURTHER REQUEST TO BE SCATTERED UNDER STARS. ARE YOU SURE YOU DO NOT WANT YOUR REMAINS TO BE EJECTED INTO SPACE? DO NOT LIMIT YOURSELF. SUCH AN ARRANGEMENT IS FEASIBLE. I WILL MAKE IT SO.”

“No! That wasn’t the promise.”

It’s only when the silence sweeps over the room that he realizes what he’s said.

“. . . wish she’d picked a shorter mountain.” Rouge says. 

“We always tried to spot it from the observation deck whenever we passed over.” Shadow lets a hint of a smile cross his lips.

“CLARIFICATION REQUESTED: YOU ARE REFERRING TO MARIA, CORRECT?”

Shadow nods.

“ARE YOU REQUESTING THIS AFTER-DEATH RITUAL BECAUSE IT IS WHAT YOU TRULY WISH, OR BECAUSE IT IS SOMETHING SHE WISHED FOR HERSELF?”

His smile disappears.

“Omega.” Rouge hisses.

“SHADOW HAS EXPRESSED TO US THAT HE DOES NOT WANT TO LET HIMSELF BE DEFINED BY THE PAST. I AM ONLY AIDING IN THE PURSUIT OF THIS OBJECTIVE.” Omega speaks to her, but turns to him, staring him down.

“It’s both.” He finally responds. 

“INFORM US OF YOUR SIDE, THEN.”

“It’s that. . . I don’t want to be trapped somewhere.” He says. “No offense, Rouge.”

“None taken. Guess you’ve spent long enough in a jar already, being lusted after by powerful men. I get it. No biggie.” Rouge winks. 

Shadow glares, but he can’t hold it for long before a snicker slips out. “That’s the worst way you could’ve put it.”

“FALSE. THERE ARE WORSE WAYS. FOR EXAMPLE-”

“No thanks, we’re good!” Rouge says. 

Omega tilts his torso downwards and lets out a long-winded negative ping. Rouge laughs and manages to keep a grin on through the pain. 

“Stop making her laugh!"

“S-starting to agree with Shadow on this one.” Rouge slips out between giggles. “Ouch.”

“You should get some rest.” Shadow stands up from his spot on the ground. “It’ll help you feel better.”

“When’s the next round of pills?”

Shadow looks at the clock. It takes him too long to do the math, but he gets it eventually. “One hour, forty-one minutes.”

“Ughhhhhhhhhh.”

“ARE WE FINISHED WITH OUR PRIOR CONVERSATION?” Omega tilts back upright. 

Rouge glances between the two of them. 

“SHADOW, ARE YOU NO LONGER ‘FINE’?”

“Huh?” Rouge asks.

“‘FINE’, AS IN THE ACRONYM THAT STANDS FOR-”

“Yes, I am feeling better.”

“LIKE IT OR NOT, YOUR FEEBLE MEATBAG BRAIN IS BETTER EQUIPPED TO HANDLE CONCRETE DETAILS THAN VAGUE CONCEPTS. ILLUMINATING THIS SUBJECT HAS ALLOWED YOU TO PROCESS IT MORE EFFECTIVELY.”

“How do you know so much about my ‘meatbag brain’, anyway?” Shadow asks.

“I RESEARCH ORGANIC PSYCHOLOGY, SPECIFICALLY THE STRESS RESPONSE, TO BETTER DISABLE THE WRETCHED DOCTOR EGGMAN WITH. IT IS. . . COINCIDENTAL THAT THIS KNOWLEDGE IS USEFUL FOR OTHER SCENARIOS.”

“Mhm. Sure, hun.” Rouge says. “But thanks.”

“Thank you, Omega.” Shadow concurs. 

“YOU ARE WELCOME.” Omega steps back. He looks around the room, before his optics settle on Rouge. “DO YOU REQUIRE ANYTHING?”

“I’ll look after her.” Shadow says.

“GOOD. I AM GOING TO GO PLAY VIOLENT VIDEO GAMES NOW.”

Omega tromps down the hall and shuts the door of his room. His “shut” is a normal person’s “slam”, but given that the door’s still on its hinges, Shadow knows he’s alright. 

He looks back down at Rouge. “Is there anything you’d like?”

“More tea?”

“Hot or iced?”

“We have any ice cubes left?”

Shadow returns to the kitchen. He grabs the mug, fills it with water, and sets the microwave going. He grabs the tea bag. His eyes catch on the ice tray sitting on the counter. All the slots are filled with water now.

“I’ll run to the store. Be back before the microwave timer goes off.”

“Yeah, fuck cashiers! Steal things!” She cheers.

He makes for the door. Soon he’s skating down the streets, whizzing past cars as he scans for a generic corporate superstore. A lucky break, for once- as he comes upon a Walmart, someone’s holding the automatic doors open. He skids inside, yanks open the freezer door, grabs a bag of ice, then reverses course. 

When he steps back inside the apartment, the microwave dings. 

“Just in time. Got worried you actually decided to pay for it for a moment.” Rouge leans out from the couch. 

“If you fall off, I’m not catching you.” He sets the bag of ice on the counter.

“Sure you won’t.”

He goes to the microwave, opens it, and puts the tea bag in. Then he opens the bag of ice and fills the water bottle. He puts the rest of the bag in the fridge- he has to really shove it in there to get the door closed.

He returns, a few minutes later, to the couch with tea in hand, and passes it to her. He makes sure her fingers are looped through the handle of the cup before he lets go. She holds it. Sips it for a while. She hands it back to him. He places it on the end table. 

“Want some television?” He asks.

She nods. He grabs the remote from the television stand and powers everything on. As he hands the remote to her, Rouge reaches for his other hand.

“Hey,” She whispers as she curls her fingers over his.

She doesn’t say anything more. She doesn’t need to.

#team dark #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e123 omega #fanfiction #sth #tw panic attack #tw self loathing #Shadow is not the most reliable narrator in this one because the self-loathing is THAT strong #this one's got a more experimental narration style than I usually try #something more immediate and emotionally intimate I hope #tag this as a ship and omega will come to your house and tear you into 1684 tiny little pieces #and don't worry my beloved omega fans!! omega is a big part of this fic!! equal screentime justice for our guy!! #<- said as someone who's been disappointed by team dark fics before that barely mention him #they are ALL family here #please do enjoy!! #e-123 omega

[mistergreatbones]

Stephanie - father is a supervillian

Duke - father is a supervillian

Barbara - mother was a supervillian in the Gotham TV show

Cass - father and mother are supervillians

Damian - mother and grandfather are supervillians

Dick - grandfather is a supervillian

Jason - father worked for Two-Face, mother aided the Joker and was run out of Gotham for human experimentation, Nocturna was a supervillian

Tim - father worked for Two-Face in the DCAU

I'm not sure what to do with this information. AU where Bruce keeps kidnapping Rogues' kids, maybe?

#leo says shit #batfam #tw human experimentation #mentioned #very briefly #but still

[cypress-punk]

The cool thing about Getter Robo is that you think its just an edgier super robot series where the power of courage or friendship or whatever is replaced by a sort of manic will to win as expressed by the Getter Rays as the fun scifi power source. But then you Learn.

You learn that the Getter has a will. You learn that it has an agenda. You learn that it handpicked the human race to have Getter Robos because Gettet Robos are essentially its avatars, physical manifestations of its will. You learn its a the power of evolution, and yet it wiped out the dinosaurs and harms the Dinosaur Empire. Why? Because they were in the way of the development of its preferred symbiote species, homo sapiens.

And then you see it. Getter Emperor. You see it destroying worlds. Creating innumerable clones of its favorite humans to serve it beyond death. You see it in a genocidal war to wipe out all non-human life in the cosmos, a war so terrible they start using time travel to try and strangle this horrific monster in the crib. And they fail. Nothing can stop the Getter.

"Believe in the Getter" is a phrase that sends a chill down my spine because I know what its all in service to. Believe in a God that will one day make you an instrument of ultimate genocide. Believe in a God that promises the survival of the human race right up until its completed its mission to obliterate all other life. Then it kills the universe and moves on to a new universe where it repeats the cycle.

Its a really effective cosmic horror in my opinion. An inversion of the usual super robot ethos of heroic conquest of evil. Sure the villains are pretty awful. The Dinosaur Empire has a fucking war crime lab where they test biological weapons on a human zoo. But does that make them worthy of extermination? Does it make the cosmos worthy of extermination? If the choice is between the continuation of the human race at the cost of all else, is it right to fight to preserve the human race? Is it even a choice? Or has the Getter already got its grip in too deep by the time Saotome builds that first Getter Robo?

Anyway read the Getter Robo manga. Its really good except for the one section where there's a really racist guy and a character who's entire personality is "predatory lesbian" but they don't stick around too long.

#getter robo #super robot taisen #super robot wars #super robot #cosmic horror #tw: genocide #tw: mention of human experimentation #mecha #manga

[illsuiteddowner]

@mothergooseberry

When Arthur found out Dr. Hayworth got the funding for the illegal drug testing that eventually turned into Joy from the Murkoff Corporation, he noticed, but he had to stay focused on Percy. When he finally escaped and got to Germany, the trail went cold. No one knew anything about any missing English children taken hostage. They seemed to have disappeared the second they set foot into Germany.

Arthur was desperate for something, any kind of hope to grab onto, because the notion that he might spend the rest of his life making it up to Percy was more or less only thing keeping him going at this point. So he searched. And searched. And searched. His German got, if not good, at least somewhat coherent (though he'd never get the knack for it that Percy had.) In his exhaustive efforts, using more investigative reporting chops than he'd ever had to use working for the "O" Courant, he managed to uncover records of a war camp where the children may have been taken. He couldn't find any mention of what happened to them, but he also found that his old friend, the Murkoff Corporation, had made a deal to illegally seize prisoners from that very same camp towards the end of the War and transport them to America.

It was something. There was a connection to Wellington Wells. It was literally the only hope Arthur had left. He dutifully followed the trail across the Atlantic to America.

Tracing these prisoners was extremely difficult. Murkoff guarded their information jealously. The more Arthur found out, the more he was slowly realizing why.

Even before Murkoff got involved--back when Arthur started finding out what went on in Germany during the War, Arthur could hardly take the information. Just when he thought the weight of what he'd doomed his brother to couldn't be more crushingly heavy, he found out about the experiments. And how the Murkoff Company bought all that research and test subjects off the Germans at the end of the War and continued them.

The chance Percy was still alive slowly turned from a hope into a fear. Maybe the most merciful thing would have been for him to die right away. Thinking about Percy being subjected to half of the things he'd read about had made him throw up more than once. It only became more important that Arthur find out what happened to him. He knew with full horrible certainty that if he was still alive, he needed Arthur get him out.

He followed the experiments to a place called the Sinyala Facility. The place was locked up tight, but Arthur had managed to sneak inside through a vent. He found himself in some sort of surreal fairground.

It wasn't actually outside, just in a warehouse so huge Arthur couldn't see the ceiling in the poor lighting. There were carnival games and a carousel, along with these weird mannequins posed like they were having fun at the fair. He was already freaking out when he came across the first dead body. It didn't help matters.

What the fuck was this place?

He didn't have time to wonder about it. A loud sound that went straight to his teeth startled him. Was that a drill? Why was there a drill in here? And why did it sound like it was coming--

Fuck. Arthur was standing right out in the open when someone came around the corner. He stared like a deer in headlights long enough to register some sort of horrible drill puppet what the fuck before he bolted and ran as fast as he could in a random direction.

#v. outlast #mothergooseberry #tw: nazi mention #tw: violence #tw: medical experimentation

[humming-pokemon-helpers]

@ - something your muse would write in a call out post

Hold on, let me get my most "Rotomblr Call-Out Post" voice on. Channel some cursed energy. I've been stewing this one for a while anyways. Ahem.

Reasons Colress Whatever-The-Fuck-His-Last-Name-Is Should Be CANCELLED!!!!!!!1!! (Or. You know. Legitimately thrown in jail like he should have been years ago.)

Tracking and blackmailing an innocent hybrid. (ME)

Directing Pokémon attacks at trainers. (ME AGAIN. And Aspear, sorry Aspear.)

Lying to and coercing employees for his own personal projects. (...Possibly.)

Unethical human experimentation. (Almost me. The four others impacted by this... I believe they're currently serving short sentences?)

Attempting to forcibly take legal possession via capture of a hybrid. (Hi. Hello. Can you tell this is a personal vendetta yet.)

Absolutely terrible hair. You can't keep a straight face looking at it. (Impacts everyone, really)

Abandonment of his own partner Pokémon for convenience. (Klinklang. Rune, you're doing an amazing service.)

Somehow came into the possession of a highly dangerous multiversal being and entered said multiverse? (Could impact literally any one of you. You are now always at risk of being Colress'd.)

Pathetic. (I have nothing else to add. He just is.)

Modded his laptop to the point of having a fucking air fryer in it???? (Source: Tula going through TSA! I think this counts as a crime against humanity.)

Fired his employees for standing up against toxic work culture. (anti-unionization & worker's rights?)

Everything he did in Team Plasma. (Not listing this out when it's on the internet.)

#sorry to any other colresses on the internet by the way. #or not. i don't really trust you all either. #pokeblogging #pkmn irl #ask vanilla #//context you ask? “a cross of strange colors” tag. #tw experimentation #tw violence mention #tw abandonment #//<-just mentions but tagging for safety