#reference to death

[witchofthesouls]

Please...I need more DinoDad!Starscream crumbs. It's too cute.

Beg more, anon! It pleases me...

I'm just kidding, here's a snippet about them:

The names for the two more unfamiliar beast-modes came far more easier for Starscream. Quickstrike for the more mobile one as they scurried everywhere, pitching out a low, terrifying vocalizations that seem to echo throughout the cave. The name derived from the large, sharp talon on a spread, segmented pede -more akin to a servo and startlingly similar to the Earth avian creatures- used to hook across surfaces with little care. Undertow for the other as it suited the aquatic nature, disappearing down in the pools to wait for Starscream to venture into it and ram against his legs as well as the proclivity for scurrying underneath to trip him over like an overexcited turbo-hound or a durasteel brick of photovoltaicat sitting in the most inconvenient spot to its master.

The Predacon, however, proved more difficult...

Skywarp whispered his tribe's tales in Starscream's left audial, and Thundercracker murmured in the right one; their ghosts as haunting as the little one's blazing pink optics, tracking him quietly in that predatory manner.

It wasn't an focused sight of a small, clever creature, but with a gaze that shined with intelligence.

Starscream's throat constricted, intakes clicking and shuttering as he tried to dig through the buried memories of Skywarp's heritage. The little one was a Wild thing, so it was best to give a name suited by his Wilder trinemate's standards.

Vosians had done it by combining celestial power and future aspirations for the newspark or mentee. Praxians followed a tradition by imbuing a name with hunting. Those raised in the Wastelands were a brutal, practical people, and they have a waiting period to see what potential abilities emerge as well as to see if the newsparks survived in the first three cycles.

It took three months, but eventually Starscream settled on Tempest to honor the massive storms that once plagued Cybertron's surface and Thundercracker's own name as she once devastated a battlefield with sonic booms and for a similar nature to his former Right-Wing. A quiet, steady presence by his side, dropping a hunk of Energon crystal into his lap as the Predacon nipped the others into line, often herding them back from the opening of the cavern. There was a gentleness that he would never expect from the long-extinct species, but it wasn't a weakness as he witnessed the ferocity in that frame, a roar that cowed the others into submission and the strength and tactics to back it up.

Perhaps Thundercracker (along with Skywarp because he never turned down a setup with explosive raw chaos nor had he denied Thundercracker anything in life) had managed to bargain with Primus and Unicron to give Starscream a child of her own temperament because who else but the Creator and the Unmaker could give life to extinct frames and create new ones from organic bones?!

[pokemon-teacology]

I know I was supposed to post something around Halloween but I'm ignoring that this year (maybe I'll upload a picture of my costume within the next few days) in favour of like,,,

Why don't we ever talk about the Darkest Day? The most recent one that happened within almost every living person's memory???

I'll tag this with all the appropriate tags so folks don't have to read this if they don't want to, but holy shit I haven't seen anyone talk about this since it happened???

Like,,, it's a story that we heard as little kids, the worst thing that ever happened to our region, a terrifying period of time that destroyed livelihoods by blocking the sun from the sky and making our Pokémon companions huge, an enormous Pokémon (a monster, they'd said. Bigger than the tallest scyscraper, coiling into the shape of a hurricane, bright red like the beams it ripped from the ground beneath our feet, a huge, gaping maw at the centre of the enormous hand-like structure that made up its head, stronger than anything we could have ever imagined) draining energy from the earth and poisoning the land. I used to have nightmares as a tiny child about this legend that we never really stopped talking about. As you get older, you reason that it's just an old story, that it didn't actually happen, and even if it did it's unlikely that anything that huge will happen again, even as you hear whispers of terrible events happening in other regions, yknow?

But then it did happen again.

We're lucky as hell that it only lasted for the better part of a day, that our champions (former and current) were able to fight it off?? Obviously there wasn't a huge amount of information given to the public other than "chairman rose is now a wanted criminal for causing this" and "yeah that huge fucking gigantimaxed Pokémon you all saw was real and very dangerous and just as terrifying as the legends, and is now in the possession of a 14 year old".

Seeing the sky go dark, the red beams of light, the massive Pokémon everywhere, with no sign of whether or not it'd be fixed, no word from our government other than "stay inside, the champion has it handled". I was scared for the safety of my family, my friends, my home and everything that I've ever known. Hell, the little kids I babysat when I was in secondary school were at the forefront of it, a boy that I grew up with from when we were littlr babies fought against it head-on. No matter how miraculous it was that they fixed it, it was fucking terrifying, and I haven't seen a single person from Galar talk about it here.

I'm just tired of people pretending it wasn't a big deal, like it wasn't the scariest thing most of us will ever experience. It felt like the ground beneath our feet was being ripped up, and for several weeks after, we were still dealing with the aftermath. It's still affecting us. The power vacuum from chairman rose and a pretty sizeable chunk of Macro Cosmos' higher ups being exposed as corrupt, a new champion and the old one becoming the head of the league, the retirement of our professor in favour of a new one (a good one, but a new one nonetheless). So much happened within the span of like 3 months and nobody's talking about how fucking scary it was.

Anyway, sorry for the heavier subject after being gone for a while, it's just been in my head for a bit, and I figured I'd talk about it here, if nothing else than to maybe just get it off my chest.

[visionaryoflife]

who's this guy your posts are about?

Something tells me I shouldn't tell you.

But he's a man. A beautiful, intelligent man. Smarter than any man you likely know. There's so many of him here, on the Rotomnet, and none of them are mine, and I'll never have any of them. He's perfect in every way, and I want him in every universe.

[sardonic-sprite]

We Two Ghosts

For what is a ghost but a restless spirit?

Written for Whumptober 2022

Days/Prompts:

Day 8 - back from the dead

Day 9 - tossing and turning

Something must be wrong with him. A toxin or some such ailment. Every other night of his life, Damian had been perfectly comfortable laying on his back to sleep. In Gotham, blankets were required where they were not in Nanda Parbat, but it was only a small change, and one he had long ago adjusted to.

But tonight, his skin prickled and muscles itched with the urge to move. Not to get out of bed. Just to not lay like this.

He tried to compromise with the discomfort by turning his head to the side, but it didn't help. Reluctantly, he rolled over onto his side, facing the door.

Then facing the window.

The door again, curling his legs up to his chest.

He even tried to lay on his stomach.

After a good ten minutes of such foolishness, contorting himself into ever more awkward positions, Damian gave up on sleep entirely and threw the blankets off with a huff. He sat up and slid his feet into the slippers Richard had gotten him when he had first moved in and noted that the wood floors were abominably cold unless it was the height of summer.

He thought about making tea, but Drake's door was cracked open, which meant the kitchen was already occupied, and would stink of coffee beans for the next hour. He hesitated at Richard's door, before reminding himself that he no longer lived in the manor.

In absence of tea or embraces, Damian decided to visit the library. Either he could quietly occupy himself there until morning, or he could read himself to sleep on one of the couches.

He was surprised to find the light already on inside, and even more surprised to find Todd sitting on the couch with a book open in his lap.

Todd looked up and saw Damian before he could exit.

"Can't sleep?"

"No. I did not mean to disturb you."

He began to back away, but Todd laughed.

"Kid, this room has got to be a thousand square feet. There's plenty room for two."

Hesitantly, Damian padded inside, moving to the bookshelf nearest the roaring fireplace.

"I did not realize you were staying the night."

"Neither did I."

Damian looked back to see Todd staring into the fire. His lips naturally had a downturn to them, but his eyes were missing the constant pinch of tenseness and irritation. The slackness made him look worn.

"What's keeping you up?"

His gaze shifted to Damian, still distant.

"I could not get comfortable," Damian admitted.

He selected a book by Jane Austen and went back to the arrangement of couches and chairs. Unsure quite why, he sat beside Todd, one couch cushion away.

A corner of Todd's mouth lifted at the book's title and author. He reached back to take the blanket off the back of the couch, and spread it over both their laps.

"I know the feeling."

Damian flipped through the editor's notes without really reading them, carefully turning each delicate page with two fingers. He began reading chapter one, and had already decided he did not like this Norris woman, when Todd spoke again.

"I can't sleep on my back anymore."

Damian glanced up. Todd was still staring vacantly, this time at his book. His eyes only gained a bit of life when they shifted to Damian. But they were still weary and sad.

"Every time I try, I wake up seeing velvet and mud."

Damian... wasn't certain how to respond. Todd's death and resurrection was not something that was talked of, except in Todd's own crude jokes.

"I wondered... it's different, I know... but I wondered if... you, too."

It took a moment to cipher through the uncharacteristic stutters. A chill ran down Damian's spine.

"But I have no such memories."

"Sometimes you don't really remember," was all Todd said. "Sometimes something in you just knows."

His eyes reflected the firelight, and though normally flames looked tantalizing and playful to Damian, they seemed cruel and mocking against Lazarus green.

Damian knew that Todd had survived the initial explosion. That it was several minutes before he succumbed to burns.

Though Drake liked to complain that Damian utterly lacked emotional intelligence, he had learned much by observing Richard. And he knew that if Richard were there, he'd have already engulfed Todd in one of his strangling embraces.

Damian did the next best thing he could offer. He shifted over the empty space, tucking himself against Todd's side.

Todd blinked, looking down at Damian. A corner of his lips twitched. He wrapped one arm around Damian's shoulders, and pulled the book a little closer.

"Except to the attack on Nanny's cousin, Sir Thomas no longer made any objection, and a more respectable, though less economical rendezvous being accordingly substituted, everything was considered as settled, and the pleasures of so benevolent a scheme were already enjoyed."

His voice was quiet, and still a little strained, but as he continued, he began to sound more like himself. When Damian glanced up, Todd's eyes had regained some life. There were even flashes of amusement and sarcasm.

He settled himself more comfortably against his brother's side, letting the story enfold him. Soon the warmth and the lilt of Jason's voice, and the hand that drifted lazily through his hair, lulled him off to sleep.

[studyofwhump]

Number 14 for Lexus

14. “Smile. Let me see that smile of yours.”

CW: creepy whumper, knives, blood

Lexus strained against the shackles locked around her wrists. Her eyes turned up to the woman holding her prisoner, an unsettling smile bearing down at her as a knife glistened in her hand.

“What’s the matter, Rebel?” She wasn’t like any Diçian Lexus had encountered before, nor a Pax Rebel gone rogue. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you aren’t having as much fun as me!”

Lexus had been spitting fire and curses at this woman, Avana she said her name was, ever since she woke up here. Not knowing what was going on or who she was, and worrying about the rest of her team. The cuts already made on her cheeks still bled and stung against the open air. 

“Fuck you...” Lexus growled from the back of her throat. “What have you done with Ren and the others?” 

She knew Renetar was still alive, held somewhere in this building where they were brought. The others, she had no idea. She had to get out of this and get to them soon. But with Avana brandishing a knife like it was a toy, she wasn’t sure how. 

“You don’t have to worry about them right now, they’re perfectly fine!” Avana laughed, “Although, it is a little disappointing that they weren’t as entertaining as you. A shame, really.” 

“No...” 

“Oh, don’t complain,” Avana said as she grabbed the back of Lexus’ hair and held the knife to her neck. “It’ll do you no good to think about them now. I want to have fun with you.” 

Lexus groaned as she felt the knife’s edge cut into the first few layers of skin, tiny trails of blood beginning to run down to her collarbone. She gritted her teeth tightly and kept her eyes shut as Avana leaned closer. 

“Why don’t you smile for me, little Rebel? You’re such a fucking grouch.” 

Avana dragged the tip of the knife up her neck, drawing out a long line of blood. She grimaced with a whimper as it came up her chin and pressed under the corner of her mouth. 

“Let me see that smile of yours.” 

[green-eyed-whumpster]

Whump Prompt: 106

- Whumpee was startled when they woke up and realised that they were lying in a bed. 

“Hush, pet,” Whumper’s voice hit their ears and they twisted their head painfully to find their captor. “You never could stay still, could you?” They sighed as a hand rested on whumpee’s forehead. 

“Why am I here?” Whumpee asked nervously as they shifted in the bed. “Oh, my darling, I’ve told you, once I break you, it’s no longer fun to hurt you. I’ve been craving a virgin target’s screams for a long time.” 

“But…am I-why couldn’t you just kill me in my sleep? After everything you’ve done to me, you had to taunt me right before you finally put me out of my misery.” Whumpee whispered thickly. 

“Oh, no, my pet,” Whumper smiled, stroking whumpee’s face lovingly. “I’ve grown too fond of you to just kill you so easily.” Whumpee cringed slightly and turned away from whumper. 

“Well then what are you going to do to me?” They asked. 

“You’ll see.”

[prettybirdy979]

Whumptober Day 27: Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card?

Writing for the @whumptober2020 list here. More fics here.

‘The last time I found you like this my dear, it had been raining for five days not five hours.’

Crowley doesn’t look back to acknowledge Aziraphale coming up behind him, not even when the angel’s umbrella covers them both. Instead he stares down the hill, at the rolling mountains and the tiny village with a few flicking lights that gimmer in the wet darkness. 

‘Crowley?’

‘The river is going to flood,’ he says, eyes still on that village. Aziraphale spends more time there than he does, what with church on Sundays and his fondness for the local bakery, but Crowley can’t say he’s never been. He knows these humans, in a way he hasn’t known mortal for millennium.

And now they’re downstream of a soon to be flooded river. 

Lightning strikes, close to them. This does get Crowley to look back, glancing at Azirpahale’s umbrella with its metal pole.

‘Most of them have already evacuated.’ Aziraphale puts his umbrella aside and, after a Look that Crowley feels whatever is left of his soul, brings his wings out instead. They do make a much better umbrella when there’s lightning about, even if the cottage will be smelling of wet feathers for weeks.

‘Not all of them. Stubborn humans.’

Aziraphale moves closer, wrapping an arm around Crowley. ‘You can’t help everyone.’

‘I know that,’ Crowley snaps even as he leans into Aziraphale’s hold. ‘Your old lot taught me that the last time this happened.’

He regrets it a moment later, the memory of how much the angel had tried not to weep on the Arc still causing an ache in his heart. Thankfully Azirpahale just hums an acknowledgement and shifts closer. 

‘The sun will come tomorrow,’ he says and the strike of lightning that thunders a moment later certainly has a sense of timing. ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘Won’t save the town,’ Crowley says eyes on the river. It’ll burst its banks soon, he can sense it.

‘So we’ll help them rebuild. Humanity has always been good at that.’

Crowley turns to look at Aziraphale. ‘Yeah and no restrictions this time.’

‘Exactly my dear, exactly.’

With a sigh, Crowley turns into Aziraphale and lets him lead him off the edge of the cliff. 

[girlofthefandom]

Charlastor Week Day 2: Human AU

The shrill sound of the alarm clock filled the room for a second or two as Charlie rolled over to turn it off. With a stretch she threw her legs over the bed, pulled on her robe and slippers, then made her way to the living room. She flicked the radio on just as the grandfather clock in the hall called out that it was 8 o’clock.

“Good Mornin’ New Orleans and our listeners from nearby!” Alastor’s voice filled the room as Charlie turned the sound up and walked into the kitchen. “Now our long time listeners know what’s about to happen but some of you newer listeners might not know it is my anniversary with my charming belle today! As per tradition I’m dedicating this first song to you. Happy 3 years Charlie! I can’t wait to get home to you!”

Charlie stood against the counter her face red with blush as the song started to play. The phone in the hallway rung and Charlie dashed to answer. “Hello, this is Charlie.” She answered.

“Hello Charlie!” Alastors voice carried his smile through the phone. “I wanted to call and let you know what I have planned for the evening.”

“Hi Al! What are your plans?” Charlie leaned against the wall a soft smile on her face.

“After the Show I’ll go out hunting then when I get back I’ll fix your favorite meal and we can go out dancing as late as we wish.” Alastor pride in his plan was evident making Charlie giggle.

“Ooo jambalaya. I can’t wait Al.”

“I’ve got to go this song is almost over. See you later Darling!” Alastor’s voice moved from the phone to the radio as the song came to an end.

“Now let’s see what happened in the news while everyone was asleep. Police have not issued any further information on the person who went missing from south Mississippi just two days ago. This is the sixth person to go missing from the surrounding area since the start of the year. I personally advice everyone to stay aware of your surroundings and for the young ladies not to walk alone. And to the families of the missing persons I pray that soon you can find peace and answers regarding this.” Alastors voice faded out as a song began to play. Charlie hummed along as she prepared breakfast.

Hello all! I hope you enjoyed this. If you didn’t catch the hint dinner won’t be deer.