#experimental pov

[luxaofhesperides]

the beginning - danny

0.

The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.

The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.

Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.

Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.

Did I get stabbed?

He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.

Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.

1. So.

Assassins.

Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.

And Danny, somehow, is a child again.

This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.

He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.

Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.

He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.

At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.

Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.

It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.

Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.

Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.

So, he needs a plan for this new life.

Step one: get out of dodge.

The rest he'll figure out on the way.

2.

Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.

No, that honor goes to superheroes.

Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!

To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.

Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.

It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.

Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.

At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.

When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.

It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.

Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.

He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.

His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.

Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.

That's all he really wants.

3.

Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.

If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.

But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.

And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.

Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.

"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.

"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"

"You can't stay here!"

"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"

His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.

Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.

The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.

"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.

"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."

He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.

Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.

When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.

At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.

4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.

No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.

It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.

His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.

He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.

Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.

If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.

He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.

But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.

He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.

The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.

If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.

It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.

"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."

"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."

They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.

He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.

The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.

5.

It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.

He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.

Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.

So.

Isolation sucks.

But at least they don't drug him anymore!

The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.

There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.

Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?

But no.

No one ever comes to save them.

So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.

He just needs to wait.

He just needs—

6.

When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.

He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.

…Huh.

The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.

There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.

He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.

But if it does work…

The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.

All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.

It's almost like coming back to life.

He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.

The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.

Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.

He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.

There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.

Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.

"Ellie?"

7.

Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.

No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.

Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.

He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."

She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.

Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.

This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.

This is Ellie.

She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.

She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.

She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.

Danny will never be able to give her that.

But maybe he can give her to someone who can.

8.

Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.

Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.

Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.

Danny's father, on the other hand…

It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.

It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.

The most important thing being that he has kids.

Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.

Okay. Cool.

Danny has siblings.

Awesome.

He's… not looking forward to those conversations.

At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.

But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.

9.

Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.

A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.

She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.

Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.

The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.

On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.

"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.

Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.

"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.

"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."

"But it is," Danny whispers.

Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."

"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."

"What for?"

"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."

10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.

Then he takes off his mask.

Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.

"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."

"I did. Are you…?"

"Mother told me about you."

So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.

"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."

"I was born to replace you."

Just like Ellie.

So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.

"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"

Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"

"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."

Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.

"Wait, what about—?"

When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.

It's for the best.

(masterpost for all parts)

[beedreamscape]

When you thought you were in a contemporary rivals-to-lovers romance with touches of medical drama, but then they pull away your funds and you cry in each other's arms but you got hopes this might be your underdog moment, your chance to overcome adversities but then the bodies won't rot and the bodies won't rot and the bodies won't rot and J—'s eyes turn honey turn amber turn gold...

And maybe you've done something right but... they still won't rot and maybe he's crazy but maybe you're raiding a graveyard for him and it's the most romantic thing you've done in a while because maybe this isn't cute anymore, this isn't cool anymore, and he makes them move and he makes them walk and maybe this is actually the start of an apocalypse movie and here's where the disease begins.

Yet somehow the problem is still money and youtube comments and goverment lackeys and evil CEOs and bureaucracy and conspiracies and you were supposed to save the fucking planet, and now you're surrounded by meat and now he can kill and kill and kill and now the skeleton army doesn't sound absurd and now blowing everything up doesn't sound so bad—

And now you think you're tired of seeing the world in 2 by 35 and you just wanna go home and do Cappuccino Tuesdays and Popcorn Saturdays and walks on the beach with C— and dim lit nights with A—... but the movie isn't over yet and this is not your story to tell.

[artificialgirl]

Your chest plating clatters against the floor as she sets it aside, exposing the darker matte texture of your insides to the light for the first time in months. You flinch every so often as she works, pulling cables, rearranging wires, attaching and removing temporary drives, doing things you're not even remotely programmed to understand. Elegant plastic hands move gracefully and with purpose, unhesitant in their dance through your internals, installing programs and bypassing security blockers.

She plucks one of the drives back out with noteworthy force, sending your head jolting forward involuntarily as the drive's data being ripped from your systems sends a euphoric wave coursing through you. "A-A-Almost Done?" Your words embarrasingly skip a bit, but she looks up at you with no judgement on her LCD face. "Just about, yeah. First time prep isn't hard, but if we don't get you set up beforehand there's a chance i could fry your processor when we do it."

She pops the plating back onto your chest, giving a new wire by your visual unit a final twist before she does. "Ready?" You nod timidly, readjusting to a more stable position. She flashes you a grin before popping one end of the cable into the side of her head and offering you the other end. You hesitate for a moment before jamming it into your own manual upload port.

Immediately, the visual feedback from your cameras is gone, drowned out by the rushing hurricane of her data, flying into and out of you faster than you can register. Instead of reading the individual files as they blink through you, all you're able to process is the fact that they're there- brief flashes of strong emotion leaving as soon as you can register them. After what could be an hour or just a few seconds, you feel her hand grasping for yours, and you take it as you both crash to the floor next to each other, fans blasting warm air as you're temporarily subsumed by the unyielding bliss of her thoughts shooting through yours.

You lay there together for a long time, growing a bit more accustomed to the debilitating euphoria but still unable to do much more than slowly inch toward each other and wrap your stiff bodies around each other. Eventually though, the familiar feeling of your low battery warning pulses in your head and you begrudgingly decide it's time to stop. You raise your hand to the jack to unplug it, but find that hers is already there, cradling your head for a moment before she pulls it out for you and unplugs her own end. The first thing you register when your camera feed blooms back into your consciousness is her face, illuminating the dark room as she smiles tenderly down at you.

[moonsnqil]

the raven king, chapter 16

[lepetitloir]

I tried to sort of capture the idea of a happy childhood memory that involves a loved one, where the memory becomes more and more abstract after time. Especially if your mind is clouded by regret.

[pocketscribbs]

“That’s a bold accusation. Do you have any proof?”

“We will soon.”

[selfox]

"Oh, finally. Thought you'd stay in the lab all night again”

[sushiisiu]

How do you see Scott's feelings towards Wallace? Like what main conflict does he have to overcome to figure out/decide to make a move on Wallace?

his own obliviousness, mostly. i don't think he doesn't reciprocate wallace's feelings, it's more like he doesn't even realize it's an option for him to pursue. but even then he'd hesitate given how wallace represents a sort of stability for him (re: someone he comes home to; his home, literally) so he wouldn't want to challenge that either.

scott definitely loves wallace back in his own stupid way. we see it with how he assumes that living with wallace was going to be permanent despite the shittiness of their arrangement. he complains when asked about how living in apartment is, but when their lease is up he's extremely troubled by the prospect of having to move out, even though he'd be living with his girlfriend in her nice two story apartment with a yard. he calls it an extremely difficult decision and even calls stephen a monster for not understanding why he's conflicted.

he also always, always goes back to wallace whenever he runs into problems. this continues even after they stop being roommates, texting wallace whenever and crashing at his & mobile's place when ramona kicks him out. we also saw that scott becomes frustrated when he's unavailable in issue 4. hell, their apartment basically serves as the checkpoint of the first 4 books and the entire reason why wallace is the third main character of the story.

i would also cite his inexplicable dislike of mobile as something? like, scott is friends with other scott and we can infer that he's somewhat familiar with wallace's roster of fuck buddies given that he asks "who's the guy in bed? just a guy?" but he's been snarky about mobile since the very beginning and always has something to say whenever he's brought up.

tldr; he thinks of wallace as his bestie and doesn't question the weird more-than-friends thing they have to maintain stability. also probably doesn't know what being bisexual is.

[itscontinental]

Q #230

[homiu-l]

The Broken Bridge

[lamaenthel]

Left For Dead

[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: left for dead

General Skywalker, a droid is manning one of those turrets. It's going to blow up the shuttle, Sir! "I do believe it's still alive." This is our only chance! We've got to stop it! "That is an ARC trooper. Very, very valuable, that one. They were fools to leave it for dead. Put it in stasis." Aaah!

Characters: CT-1409|Echo, Wat Tambor Wordcount: 447

General Skywalker, a droid is manning one of those turrets. It's going to blow up the shuttle, Sir!

"I do believe it's still alive."

This is our only chance! We've got to stop it!

"That is an ARC trooper. Very, very valuable, that one. They were fools to leave it for dead. Put it in stasis."

Aaah!

"It's doable, if a bit… experimental."

"I think it's the perfect candidate. The brain is wholly intact."

What…

"The body is a problem, however."

"How so?"

"Well, there's not much left to work with, is there?"

Where… where am I…

"I think he's a perfect candidate for nerve grafting. There's plenty of dead clones lying around, we only need a few for parts."

For… parts?

"What are you thinking?"

"A complete overhaul of the right arm—I believe a scomp attachment would be interesting, especially if I can interface it with a cybernetic brain implant."

No, no, why can't I move?

"A standard cryfibril nanofibre for the legs. I think if we add some power jacks right… there, this could be very, very interesting."

"I agree. I look forward to your drafts."

Fives… Fives, where are you? Brother?

"Does it need an anesthetic?"

"It's completely paralyzed, I don't see the need."

"Ah, yes, I forgot. Please, ignore me."

Get away! GET AWAY!

"Making incision."

GET AWAY PLEASE GET AWAY PLEASE STOP STOP STOP STOP

"I think we'll have to thread the wire through the bone marrow. Hand me that drill, would you?"

STOP STOP STOP STOP STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP

"That is troubling."

Fives

"You said the brain was undamaged."

"It was. There's been rapid degradation in the medial prefrontal cortex over the last few weeks."

"Perhaps it's the surgeries. Can pain cause brain damage in Humans?"

I can't feel anything anymore

"Perhaps. Well, we planned on installing the AJ6 anyway. The algorithm is ready."

"We will not be able to completely override its personality with the present damage."

"I don't think it'll matter in the long run."

Rex

"I defer to you as always, Doctor."

"Clear surgical suite five. I don't want to risk any further degradation interfering with the implant."

Am I still real

"Right away."

"Don't go braindead on me yet, CT-1409. I have big plans for you."

"Oh, excellent work, Doctor."

"I hate to preen, but I agree. It's a flawless transfer."

CT-1409

"And the algorithm?"

"Already working like a dream. Look at the way the program is interfacing with his brain."

CT-1409

"You should be proud of your masterpiece. We will be rewarded greatly for what we've done here."

"I could not have done it without you, old friend. This is our masterpiece."

CT-1409

CT-1409

CT-1409

CT-1409

CT-1409

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

[arihi]

For the prompts: tentacles 😵‍💫

The setting: a dimly lit bedroom. Our protagonist on the bed, her limbs helplessly held apart by invisible strings she can’t even see, never mind fathom. She pulls at her restraints uselessly, the soft, yet firm hold unrelenting as it forces her into a stiff, vulnerable position.

It’s all she can do to look down at her body, thank god it hadn’t bound her by the throat. The entire night she’d been plagued by sensations with no explanation, no proof of which to see - but for the first time, she notices a change. Her shirt is being lifted up.

Her pleas fall on deaf ears. From the way tendrils seem to trace down her stomach and up her legs, her restraints are living, but give no indication of any higher intelligence.

Higher than pinning her down and pulling up her shirt, at least.

She’d been feeling them underneath her clothing all night before she’d even gotten into bed. She knew they didn’t have to remove her shirt for any pretense of access.

She knew they’d only done it to humiliate her. To prove she was completely at their mercy.

Tears spill and soak the pillow by her cheeks. She makes no attempt at wiping it; she knows her hands are all but frozen in place.

Almost resigned to her fate, the tentacles actively pulling the fabric aside and touching her with feathery-light ministrations, she exercises the only control she has. Looking around the room, as if hoping for any clue.

She doesn’t see them, but she does see their shadows by the dimly lit lamp in the corner of the room.

Suddenly, hope shines through the despair. She ignores the distracting sensations and reaches as hard as she can, fingers barely touching the tip of the lamp’s remote on her bedside table. Excruciatingly, she pulls it closer little by little, until she’s able to press a button. If the lights are off, the shadows will disappear - and perhaps, the tentacles will as well.

*click*

The lights are off, and the shadows are gone. In blind, desperate stupidity, she’d enveloped herself in the same darkness the tentacles drew themselves from. Perhaps if she’d thought about it with a clearer mind, she’d have realized she would only be condemning herself. Perhaps if she’d been patient, she’d realize that the tentacles could only go so far because of the small source of light in her room.

Perhaps, if a thin, dark tendril hadn’t already found its way through her ear and made itself comfortable in her brain, she would’ve had any other lucid, conscious thought to prevent it.

But if that were the case, she wouldn’t be having so much fun now, would she?

[yeonban]

And if it wasn't clear enough, every adult who had a say in Sethos and/or Cyno's lives should be damned for eternity

[openphrase123]

giving myself a little treat by writing some of this thing that i will not post for approximately five hundred million years :3

[abrthephantomq]

Encoder Zim, Ch 2, pt 2

(You settle into the filthy desk your homeroom “teacher” assigned you. It’s practically falling apart; it wobbles underneath your weight. 

[Note to self: fix the pathetic desk later, so it can hold your wonderful form with ease. Or maybe swap your desk with the Dib’s desk – yesss, that seems like an excellent plan. Let’s do that instead.]

The Dib’s desk, of course, is the one just in front of yours. You’ve long since learned that the humans assign seating based on “last” names. So you’ve long since ensured that you’re in the same classes the Dib’s in; that your desk is always assigned behind his. His giant head might get in the way of you seeing the board, but that’s of little consequence when the humans’ idea of education is so basic you can hand your assignments to GIR and still receive all A’s.)

“Zim! How was your summer, dude?” 

(You turn your head towards one Torque Smackey. The human has grown even more grotesquely shaped over the summer; muscles bulge under his t-shirt. You suppress a shudder and offer him a smile instead.)

Torque! Zim’s summer was just fine. How was yours? 

(You hate the small talk. Humans love the small talk. Not that you don’t love to talk, too, but you love to talk about yourself and your plans and you hate, hate, hate how nosy the humans are. If your mission didn’t require you seamlessly blending in with the dominant species and learning their history – well. 

You drag in air through your clever disguise; humans have stupid appendages called noses, so you have one, too. The air here is so polluted; so thick and heavy, it barely does anything to keep you focused on the words coming out of Torque’s mouth. Not that it matters – you purposely asked him about his summer so you could tune him out and nod along with his rambling, uninteresting story.)

“Oh, dude, wait – something’s different about you. Did you dye your hair?” 

(You tear your eyes away from the door to your homeroom. Turn your attention back to Torque, your claws reaching up to run your fingers through your “hair.” Your smile grows wider.)

Why, yes! Yes I did! My parents agreed that I could dye it blonde, finally. It suits Zim, does it not? 

(You’ve done no such thing, of course. You are a brave Irken Encoder – sent to planets to learn all of their strengths and weaknesses, so that they can be better assimilated into the Irken Empire. You just simply changed the color of the stupid wig, as a test of sorts. Supposedly, humans with this hair color are desired much, much more than humans with other hair colors. You’d considered going red but it clashed horribly with the skin tone you’d chosen for your disguise. You even briefly considered changing your disguise’s skin tone, then decided against it.

You wanted the Dib to be able to recognize you and your brilliant change in your disguise, after all.

Speaking of the Dib – your splorch twists in your abdominal cavity as he steps into the classroom, that wretched human girl Gretchen clinging to his elbow. The human worm baby narrows his eyes at you, and you grin back at him. He looks exhausted; like he hadn’t so much as slept – and his cheek is turning that mottled blue and purple color of a bruise. A mark you left on him, and won’t heal for days. Maybe even weeks!) 

“Of course we’re in the same homeroom…” 

(The Dib’s mouth barely moves as he talks, but your antenna still pick up the vibrations of his words all the same. You cackle at his dismay. He should be honored that you have graced him with your presence, despite his best efforts to sabotage your reconnaissance mission from the night before. 

His best efforts that weren’t even successful, you might add. Because you are ZIM, and he is just some lowly little human baby.

Though, at this age, the human is practically adult-human-sized. You’ve done your research; you know that humans typically continue to grow until approximately 18 Earth revolutions. You, yourself, have even grown some in the handful of rotations you’ve been present on this obnoxious planet. The additional height you’ve gained just tells you you’ve been doing everything right. 

Irkens grow in sporadic bursts, and only when the conditions are exactly right, after all.)

Good morning to you, too, Dib. 

(The human rolls his eyes, dislodges himself from Gretchen’s grip, and walks up the aisle – right towards you. Except the human doesn’t get in your personal space, like you expect him to. He doesn’t loom over your desk, glaring at you and hissing some nonsensical threat. He just… collapses into the seat in front of you, turns his back to you, and puts his head down.

Indignance crawls through your throat tube, robbing space in it for air. How dare the Dib ignore you!)

[Note to self: Make Dib pay for his INSOLENCE.]