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Space Fanfic
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Between the slats of a white, plastic window shade, the low-lit sky of morning shifted through, casting a barely visible shadow against the floor of the room. Wooden boards- their surface haphazardly covered with an assortment of carelessly dropped supplies- greeted this light with grooved faces. As the first song of morning rang through the air, it seemed not a thing could go wrong. Unfortunately, to the robotic figure waking up in the corner of the room, the sentiment was something he did not share.
“God,” he grumbled, shielding his singular eye from the harsh greeting of morning, “awful. Just like Dustbowl.”
The robot sat up and rubbed his head “One more busy day.” And instantly goes on hintshot’s discord server. He opens up general chat to talk about his beloved TeamFortress2 corp. to hintshot’s audience.
There, on the front: hintshot discord. He smiles. Spaceguyonline instantly frowns because he see PJ in hintshotls server and decided to stop speaking in general for 3 days straight, intimidated by the soldier mge pictures along with the threats. Truly it was apparent couldn't escape his past. He HATEd panus.
Leaning back, he placed one hand behind him, resting his head in the crook of his arm. What a terrible word. He couldn’t keep denying it though; his past wouldn’t be escaped. Of course, it wasn’t just his past, for with it a person came. Terrible. Just like Sniper. He shouldn’t feel this way for a person, he should hate all of them like his why people hate series and yet...
He needed an escape. Picking up his swag gaming computer, he double-clicked on the bronze and black icon of Source: Film Maker. Source fim make. Pulling up the sniper model, he dropped in one white light and set it to maximum intensity. “Time to make another poster.“ he puts a light and then renders.
He would smile to himself if he had a mouth "hah, these liberals will like theses posters." He takes a sip from his Liberal-Tear mug which he made himself. “Nothing like a good brew of liberal tears. Now where were we… Oh yes!..” He cracks his knuckles and gets back on his keyboard and opens Discord. “Post humorous kills shouldn't either. Kills that happen after you die. Most commonly on Pyros, obviously... But also sometime with Soldier or Demo." He takes a deep breath. “That was enough liberal ownage for tonight.” He closed his eye and let out a sigh, thoughts of creatur crept in when he tried to shove it away via poster making and liberal owning. Last night he had dreamt about waking up right besides the one that seemed to plague his mind, which he couldn't decide if it was a positive or negative thing.
He decided to get off his game ing computer. Maybe some alone time with no liberals on the computer screen might refresh his mind. He stretches. “Man.”
His beloved couldn't escape his mind, he was stuck in an endless loop of owning the libs and his mind being invaded by the thoughts of italy creatur. He knew what would help his sorrow of his dearest lover not being besides him, he stepped in his little kitchen which smelled of bad.The robot opened up the fridge, peering in at the butt cheeks he was going to bite.
It was the food which liberals ate which he couldn't reminded him of his Italian, he would hug the spaghetti, it smearing on his metalic chest and crying liberal tears, a little spaghetti fell on the floor, his perfect sniper boots covered in pasta and tomato sauce. "Oh, my dearest, my tiny little baby, why are you such a sissy liberal?" He falls on the floor and stars having a stroke “Joe many liberals does it take to change a log by bulb????? None, their to busy ???? Their gender😂😂😂😂😂😂”
Space giggles.
"Everyone likes me, haha," he skips back into his bedroom gleefully and slams the door shut behind him. He is going to ask if they can play mvm later.
Spaceguy resumes to act serious and write with proper grammar on online forums, intending to intimate children online because he wants to be just like glafos, despite hating woman. He is at heart a white hetrosexual woman, just like glafos from potral 2. He believes he 'kins' glafos as the kids say these days. He is also schizofreni NO IM NOT. I'M NOT SCHIZOFRENIC. I take my pills… He belives he is the real GLaDOS because he was born before the game was made??????? He was born before the dawn of time. He is seventeen bizillion years old. TFA made him like this Pee pee poo poo wee wee eho eho eh. TAKE YOUR PILLS no. I'm sane. I am sane. I am Glados from tf2. WAKE UP IT'S ALL A DREAM YOU'RE SLEEPING IT'S A NEVERENDING NIGHTMARE NO LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE STOP IT I ALREADY WIPED TODAY PLEASE PLEASE I BEG YOU
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake it's all a dream Joe Biden. Wakeup Joe Biden.u the mission, the nightmare isn't yet done GHANDI GHANDI GHANDI no. El che. El che. El che. STOP IT. stop. Stop
...Stop…
…Stop…
...Stop.
Space wakes up in cold sweat...despite being a robot who shouldn't even be able to produce something such as water. He was a hydro jet anacadona. clutching his chest. He looked around the bedroom as he lifted his head, a headache crawling through more prominently with every movement. He fell asleep, that was it. He feel asleep while in Vegas movie studio 1000030 movie studios pro steam edition. He was simply overworking himself too much, now with the addition that he had a patrion to tend to..
Everything was fine, he was fine. He just hit 1 subscribers, and things were going well...
Now it was time-! No… stop it… stop. The robot slams his fist on the desk and nearly tips over the glass of water he uses to drink his meds every day. That's right… His meds. He takes a handful of pills and vigorously rubs them against his metallic plate (robot cant eat), instantly feeling ten times saner. "Ok. The voices should stop now…" Except they didn't…They never did.
Totally not because robots can't fucking consume pills.
He starts humming Despacito in broken spanish to avoid falling into the pit of despair that is his own mind.
As the despair grew, the low creeping of darkness began to curl around his mind. Through the dim veil of failed dreams and aspirations, the faint form of a figure- no, two figures- began to form. They were the silhouettes of a dark, inky humanoid, and a hooded, mask-wearing person.
Gopnik and Faible.
Reaching forward, the hooded one grabbed the ink ones hand, turning to stare passionately before…
Gopnik kisses faible
"Show me your heart because I'm not attracted to you because I'm ace" faible growled like a dog.
⬆️ Gopnik⬆️started to bite their legs.
As Space watched this unfold, he began to feel something blossom inside of him. Was it … shadow devil skull.
He wanted what those two had so badly… Dipping his head, he closed his eyes to the sight, resigning himself to darkness. It was Italian he loved, and italian only.
The robots metal slits on his eye slowly opened to an empty room once more. The softly glowing red orb seemed to become tiresome and sunken as he slumped against the wall, reality returning as fast as it had distorted out. He felt his metallic heart pumping inside his chest, it was the onl. y sound he could hear now. No voices, no visions. He was back inside reality, but was it any better when he had nothing to do but face his emotions without any distraction? Was there pills to stop this too just like the visions?
he smiles.