#badass ran
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meganechan05 · 6 months ago
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Sword Lesbians💛💜
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They fight with swords.
They're (enby) lesbians.
✨️Sword Lesbians✨️
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sparrovv · 2 years ago
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HI IM ALIVE. yeah crazy i know anyways here’s some late AC1 week thats kinda sloppy but you know what. It gives it ✨ character ✨
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Prompts 1-6
Eagle
Eden
Blood
History
Enemy
Alliance
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causeimcrayzeebee · 18 days ago
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the amount of kamimura screentime we’re getting recently is freaking me out. yikers. please don’t die kamimura please no i have such a strong emotional attachment to you asshole. hama is such a king for convincing him to take care of himself frfr!!
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romancemedia · 11 months ago
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Shuichi Akai protects Shinichi Kudo from beach punks
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tansu-bomb · 1 year ago
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Musings on the most important and least explained pivotal conflict between Jin Seol-Ran & Choi mage + parallels 200 years ago vs now
1. A severe drought dried up Lake Gyeongcheondaeho.
2. Jin Seol-Ran performed a sacred dance & used her divine energy so the energy from the skies flows down to earth as rain; and with the rain came ice-stones (plural).
3. Choi mage extracts ice-stone(s) from the lake, and experiments with it - thus documenting the Alchemy of Souls book that much later, Shaman Choi (likely his grand-daughter), attempts to save during Jang Gang’s raid & gets burnt in the process.
4. All across Daeho, folks kill each other to obtain the ice-stone(s) and use it primarily for soul-shifting as they please, thereby creating the great chaos.
5. Jin Seol-Ran cannot end the chaos by herself so she chooses to partner with Seo Gyeong - the one with King’s Star energy - and puts an ice-stone into his body (just like she much later does with Jang Uk, the next King’s Star) thus turning him into the most powerful weapon.
6. Jin Seol-Ran and Seo Gyeong use their complementary powers to end the chaos — she by using her divine power to track down ice-stones and he by using his muscle power to single-handlely squash armies (like Cho Yeong & Jang Uk do towards the end).
7. Up until then, folks likely physically possessed the ice-stone but not anatomically like Seo Gyeong (courtesy: Seol-Ran), but Choi mage - the mastermind behind AOS - probably figured out a way to do so as well. (Even Shaman Choi and Jin Mu were unable to accomplish this)
8. As it would’ve been difficult to kill Choi mage who also possessed the ice-stone, Jin Seol-Ran must’ve trapped his soul in the Gwido barrier (along with others). Much later, when Seol-Ran/Cho Yeong enter Gwido again, all soul-wraiths fear her but one chases her with vengeance.
9. In one of the flashbacks, Jin Seol-Ran and Seo Gyeong are shown standing shoulder-to-shoulder and extracting the power of the ice-stone that Choi mage possessed. Seol-Ran most likely turned that ice-stone into one that seeks (not gives) energy and left him to die a painful death in Gwido (like Cho Yeong does Jin Mu).
10. In return, the Choi mage must’ve cursed Jin Seol-Ran and Seo Gyeong that they too will turn into soul-shifters - in this life or the next. This curse is most likely what plays out 200 years later for both Jang Uk & Cho Yeong both of whom are Seo Gyeong and Jin Seol-Ran’s supposed reincarnations.
11. Seo Gyeong falls in love with Jin Seol-Ran; but most likely Seol-Ran is already a married woman with a heir in tow (likely Jin HoGyeong’s mother) coz, by the time great chaos ends, Seol-Ran is injured and about to die — most likely due to overusing her divine powers that accelerated her aging —and we know the Jin family line continues. That makes theirs an impossible, forbidden romance on multiple fronts (which comes full circle with Jang Uk & Cho Yeong finally defying fate and falling in love twice)?
11. After the great chaos ended, Jin Seol-Ran likely removed the power of ice-stone from Seo Gyeong as well (but unlike Jang Uk who died and had his soul resurrected only due to the ice-stone), Seo Gyeong lives on even without it.
12. At this point, only one final ice-stone remains which Seo Gyeong wished to use to protect Seol-Ran but Seol Ran, who sees future, about the fire bird and the Choi mage’s curse, chooses to attach her soul to the ice-stone itself (which Jang Gang & Jin HoGyeong think resurrected a dead baby Jin BuYeon)
The Choi mage’s curse, I think, is critical for what follows.
13. When Jin Seol-Ran’s memories & divine powers start to come back (likely around ages 8-10) while she is resurrected in dead Jin BuYeon’s body, she likely figures out that A) Choi U-tak (the grand-son of Choi mage) is her father (the blasphemy this is; ties perfectly to Chois wanting revenge against Jins above all), B) Jang Uk, the King’s star, was born through AOS, and C) Jin Mu destroyed Cho Yeong’s family.
14. While Jin HoGyeong and Jang Gang engineered BuYeon’s birth star, Cho Yeong was likely naturally born under that same birth star - the one that’s destined to accompany the King’s star. The King’s Star and the accompanying star are likely binary stars — stars whose gravitational fields are interconnected (example: Alcor/Mizar or Vasishta/Arundathi binary stars in Ursa Major).
14. Seol-ran attempts to fight fate & masterminds the attempt to find the ice-stone with Jin Mu and Choi U-tak — to once and for all destroy the ice-stone and the greedy men — in one ago. Despite her supreme divine powers, she fails given how weak she physically is having been reincarnated in a baby who’s been dead in the womb for atleast few hours if not few days (plus she’s only 10 years old and has overestimated herself).
15. There is no way Seol-ran can now go back to Jinyowon coz she has gambled and revelaed her supreme divine powers — and if she goes back, she’ll certainly meet death at the hands of her own family (Jin Mu) and Choi family (Jin U-tak). So she bides time in Sari village to let future unfold so she can interject at a more optimal time. (Seol-Ran says this at the end; that seeing into the future, one can cleverly interject. While one may not change the pre-fated outcome as she painfully learns, she knows optimal points to interject at to tightly control the flow of events & minimize damage)
16. The Choi mage’s curse of her turning into a soul-shifter is also likely the biggest reason why Seol-Ran lures in and traps Cho Yeong’s soul in the first palce coz Yeong’s compatible and immense energy would be useful for their survival when they’d both run wild (at end of S1)
17. All along S1, Jin SeolRan keeps on protecting Jang Uk & Cho Yeong. She orchestrates it all — a) allowing Yeong her power back in the lake very early on so that these two don’t drift apart, b) the exposure of ice-stone so she can inject the ice-stone into Jang Uk knowing that he’ll be hunted for his King’s star fate (she probably also knows that his death would happen at Naksu’s hands), and c) she doesn’t stop Jin Mu from causing her to run wild coz she very likely calculates that she’d be saved by the King’s star or Jinyowon or both.
17. Ultimately, Choi mage’s curse comes true — both the King’s Star Jang Uk & Seol-Ran/Cho Yeong eventually become soul-shifters — the last two that will continue to live on.
18. Seol-Ran stayed true to her purpose for 200 years and must’ve been very happy to witness that the King’s Star and his accompanying star’s love saga. An unrequited love story finally becomes requited through their reincarnations.
19. Seol-Ran’s restorative justice was to leave everything to Cho Yeong — all of her divine powers, all of the burden of protecting Jinyowon, all of her blessings to protect & live happily with the King’s star, and the responsibility to carry on the lineage of girls with unparalleled divine powers. Of course, Cho Yeong, with all the choices she makes through S1 and S2 proves herself more than worthy of this role.
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petratherrock · 9 months ago
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Archon Quest 2.4 - Lumine tries to battle Osial's Wife
Let the ceremony commence!
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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago
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also
u guys didn't hear this from me but i came up with the sickest concept for a long-form gojo fic so....is that something you guys want to read bc i REALLY want to write it
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thebiggestfuckgiven · 1 year ago
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Ectoberweek 25: Will-o’-Wisps
Rating: T
Warnings: mentions of death, of being buried alive, descriptions of gore, brief mention of vivisection, true crime-esque horror, and general spooky vibes
A/N: I really wanted to do a lil something for the spooky month and what better to write than something for the fandom i’ve been sickeningly hyperfixated on for the past four months. Actual prompt had a two-sentence prompt as well, and i went with both <3
- 💜 -
October 2004
The things everybody tells you about small towns- everyone knows each other, ni things big happens, every day is a slow day, and the biggest local teen hotspots are the walmart parking lot or the big chain pharmacy/corner store —are true. The thing that everyone knows about small towns except for the majority of the people living in said town is that their minds are as small as the local post office.
This is especially true of the teens of Casper High in Amity Park, Illinois.
Sam’s black combat boots stomped against the warm pavement as she ran for the next block. Her breathing was ragged, coming out in harsh puffs of air in the autumn cold. She had gotten an SOS text message from Tucker seconds before the last bell rung.
Normally, she didn’t take the Foley kid very serious. They didn’t know each other that well and they barely hung out save for the couple of school projects they’ve worked on together and those rare lunch hour occasions where he’d sit at her table uninvited. Usually to avoid Dash, Kwan and the rest of their jock entourage.
She stumbled to a stop at a crossroads borderline wheezing. Running was so not her forte. Maybe it was cruel of her, but Same fully intended to ignore his SOS. That is, until she saw Tweedledumb (Dash) and Tweedledumber (Kwan) shove a screaming Tucker into their run-down jeep and speed off.
Hence, why Same was ruining her sickly goth pallor by chasing after them.
She glanced to her left just in time to see the run-down jeep screech to a halt. Christ, the stabbing in her sides was killing her. Sue her for walking. The jeep wasn’t going anywhere anymore. She stumbled a few steps, feet burning, as she held a hand to her sides like that would help her.
Dash jumped out from the passenger side, Kwan following shortly after, from the driver’s side. They opened the back doors on each side, where Tucker was. They cornered him. Dash reached in and was soon pulling Tucker out by his feet. Sam could hear his scream now.
“C’mon, guys, please just leave me alone! Let me go, Dash!”
The Wonder Jocks laughed in response. Kwan slammed his door shut, confident that Dash had Tucker handled now that he was out of the car. Kwan rushed to the sidewalk to roughly grab Tucker’s free arm.
“Guys, this isn’t funny!”
Sam was halfway down the street now and she dreaded the idea of having to run again to keep those two muscle-headed idiots from beating the crap out of the geek that for some reason imprinted on her. Ugh, caring for people was overrated anyways. She could still walk away. Save herself the hassle. No one care about her in this stupid town anyways. So, why should she care?
She slowed to a stop. Her feet ached.
Dash and Kwan were dragging Tucker towards the street corner, which just confused Sam, amidst her inner turmoil. Why even drag Tucker all the way out to his own neighborhood? His house was literally a street away, and there wasn’t even a bare-bones playground here. So what—
“No, no! Don’t put me in there, Dash, Kwan, please! Just let me go, guys, it’s not funny!”
Sam felt a sharp chill run down her spine. Something heavy dropped in the pit of her stomach at the sudden realization of where, exactly, they were.
“Shit.”
She broke off into a sprint as fast as she could.
Shithsitshitshit.
Another thing about small towns is that they all have a well-kept secret. A dark past, usually. Sam found that she thrives on such darkness; on those unwanted and discarded things. As it turned out, Amity Park had a surprising amount of those. She made it her personal business to grow intimate with her town’s buried gutter.
The things she learned were both shocking and, for all her boasting, a little horrifying. Things that would be permanently burned into her retinas. Unseeable and unforgettable. So, she scolded herself for not realizing sooner where they were dragging Tucker to. She would’ve run a little faster, cared a little more, if she had.
She zoomed past the jeep and turned the corner so sharply she nearly fell flat on her face.
Tucker wasn’t screaming anymore, but there were tears streaming down his face as he stared in terror at the behemoth of a house towering over them.
In all its abandoned, festering glory: the infamous Fenton House. Even in bright daylight, the house was obscured in awkward elongated shadows, made worse by the house’s freaky, Frankenstein-esque structure. As if imitating a child’s building blocks tower, there were partial structures jutting out of the house’s main body. They creaked in the cold wind, threatening to snap off and crush any trespassers. At the very top, there was a round dome of sorts with something resembling letters across it. They were black with rot now. Unreadable.
Sam wasn’t a fearful person, but she was a believer. The Fenton House was more than haunted. She’s read enough testimonies to not take it lightly. People have gone missing in that house. Hell, they’ve been found dead in there. She may not be friendly with Tucker, but that didn’t mean she was about to leave him to a tragic fate.
Body running on a sudden burst of adrenaline, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find (a sizable stick) and marched towards the two jocks.
“Hey!”
All three of the boys turned to look at her. She stood two steps below them, resolutely ignoring the way the house seemed to want to swallow them whole. Tucker’s terrified face shifted into one of pure relief. A new wave of tears was visibly threatening to spill over.
“Sam,” he croaked.
Dash barked out a laugh.
“Samantha Manson? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hey, wanna help us lock this dweeb in the Fenton House?” Kwan smiled brightly, pointing at Tucker.
Sam scowled. People always confused her apathy for cruelty. She hated it.
“It’s Sam, and like hell I do. Drop the nerd, assholes, or else,” she said, pitching her voice lower in an attempt to sound intimidating.
Maybe she should’ve spent her time running thinking up a plan instead of hating on Tucker for making her run in the first place. She clutched the stick in her hand tightly.
Kwan scoffed.
“No way. I just said we’re gonna lock him in the house.”
“Yeah! We wanna know what happens when you put a techno dweeb with murder ghosts,” Dash said, smiling cruelly at a Tucker.
“He short-circuits. It’s not impressive. Let him go.”
Dash must’ve realized, finally, that Sam was being serious. He narrowed his eyes at her, the stick in her hand, and smiled.
“Or what? You’re gonna hit us with the creep stick? Ha. Last I checked, Sam, girls don’t have the balls to pull that off, so why don’t you get lost and forget you were ever here,” Dash said before adding to Kwan, “And Paulina says I’m not a gentleman.”
It was Sam’s turn to smile. She went up a step as she spoke.
“Like any girl would let you get that close, Dash. Besides, I promise mine are bigger than yours. Here, I’ll prove it.”
Before he even had time to blink, Sam jabbed the stick hard into Dash’s crotch. A gentlemanly oof broke past his lips and he let go of Tucker’s arm to clutch at his wounded pride.
“Augh, bitch.”
Kwan also let go of Tucker to check on his friend. Sam didn’t waste a second and grabbed Tucker’s hand.
“Run.”
They bolted down the stairs, Tucker nearly slamming into her from the sudden force.
“Sam, I didn’t think— I mean— shit, thank you. I thought- Ah!”
“Shit. Let me go, jackass!”
They had barely cleared the Fenton House’s shadow when a large, thick arm slammed into Sam and Tucker’s bellies as Kwan— just Kwan —grabbed them by the waist and lifted them up.
Note-to-self: never piss off a linebacker.
Sam knew Dahs and Kwan were big for their age, being football players and all, but jesus fuck this was insane.
She kicked and punched for her freedom, but either rage was a hell of a pain nullifier or her punches were child’s play.
Crap, and she dropped the stick when he grabbed them. Just her luck.
“You better let us go right now, Kwan!”
“Or what?”
He was effortlessly taking them up the stairs and— oh that’s the door.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, they— they can’t actually lock us in. There’s no key. We-we can just leave,” Tucker whispered, panicked.
“You don’t know much about the Fenton House, do you?”
Sam’s voice was small. She felt small.
They were about to be locked in a horror house.
Dash opened the door. Sam didn’t even see him get there.
“Sayonara, losers. Have fun in the Fenton House.”
The world tilted and blurred for a split second, Sam’s stomach lurching at the weightless sensation, before she and Tucker landed hard on the linoleum floor. Pain shot up her elbow and hip. Beside her, Tucker groaned.
“If you even make it the whole night! Ha!”
Bam!
Tucker scrambled up at once, but as soon as his hand touched the doorknob a sound like a lock sliding into place echoed throughout the empty house.
“Wha…”
Sam waited with bated breath. Then—
A low droning sound buzzed across the floor, seeping through Sam’s hands in an odd pins-and-needles sensation. Red emergency lights flickers throughout the house, bathing everything in muddy crimson, and the droning sound was replaced by the most horrifying screech of twenty-year-old rusted metal scraping against itself.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Thick sheets of metal began dropping over every conceivable entry. Including the windows and, of course, the door. Sam pulled Tucker back by the collar of his shirt just in time to keep his hand attached.
Tucker yelped, clutching his hand close.
“What the fuck—”
Warbled, distorted speech boomed from somewhere in the house, the voice and the words long ruined by time. It was like someone was trying to speak underwater. The message was only a few seconds long, but it was disgustingly haunting. Sam knew exactly what it said.
Ghost attack imminent. Fenton Security measure Christmas Ham activated.
If she remembered correctly, the measure lasted six hours. But the last time it was activated (that anyone knows of) was five years ago. Who knew how much the technology had deteriorated at this point. They could be here for a whole day.
Sam broke from her thoughts to glance at a hyperventilating Tucker. She couldn’t blame him. The Fenton House was creepy enough on the outside. Inside? With flickering red lights? Sam was making an active effort not to throw up from the fear writhing in her intestines.
The shadows kept moving in the corner of her eyes, she swore she kept seeing a green glow (but she couldn’t tell where from), and it was freezing cold. Colder than it was outside, which should be impossible, but it was the Fenton House. Impossible was inconsequential.
Sam shuddered. They had to find a way out.
“Tucker—”
“Sam- ohmygodSam- this is- I mean what the fuck was that? We’re literally trapped here. In a tomb with linoleum floors. Shit, and you’re trapped, too, cuz of me. I shouldn’t have sent you that text. Fuck it I shouldn’t have flunked Dash’s essay. Now we’re gonna die here and—”
“Tucker!”
Sam grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. Their eyes met, both wide with incessant panic.
“Calm down,” she spoke slowly. Tucker gulped and nodded shakily.
“Okay, okay, yeah.”
“Breathe. You’re good with computers and stuff, right?”
Tucker scoffed, but more in a self-deprecative way rather than an offended one.
“Sure am. It’s what gets me in trouble, isn’t it?”
Sam shook him again.
“Forget that. We need good with computers. The Fentons were notorious for their unorthodox advancements in technology. Supposedly had patents on really futuristic shit. Most of it buried, obviously. But they were good enough that their security system still activates nearly twenty years after their departure.”
Ridiculously good, she thought bitterly.
There was a moment of weighted silence as they looked around the house. The lights, the rusted yet intact panels over the windows. It was eerily quiet. She stepped a bit closer to Tucker, who thankfully didn’t say anything about it.
“Yeah, alright, okay,” he muttered to himself before clearing his throat. “The-there should be, uh, a circuit breaker somewhere. We could cut off the power—”
“Won’t work,” Sam stated, eyes furtively glancing around them. She had the weirdest sensation they were being watched. “The town cut the power away from the Fenton House ages ago. It runs on some kind of external power source, but nobody knows what.”
Sam kinda hoped they didn’t get to find out.
“Shit. Man, what the fuck. Who the fuck were these people?”
Sam let out a manic sort of laugh. The hysteria was boiling up in her like toxic chemicals.
“Do you want the short answer or the long one?”
“I have a feeling we’re gonna be here a while. Long answer?”
A pause.
“We should find a way out.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them moved an inch. They stood in the middle of the living room. A trashed one at that. Although, looking closely from where they were, the whole house looked trashed. Wasn’t the place SWATted?
She spotted a flash of green in the hallway, right there in the corner of her eye, and snapped her head towards it with a small gasp. There was nothing there.
“Hey,” Tucker said softly. “Let’s check out the windows for loose panels or something and you can tell me about the Fentons’ own loose panels.”
Her mouth went dry, but she nodded.
“Sounds good, yeah. So, uh, what do you know about the Fentons?”
Tucker shrugged and went towards the first window, by the door. Sam followed closely by. He didn’t mention it.
“What everyone else knows. Mad scientists who went so crazy after their son’s disappearance that they tried to summon him from the afterlife. They got so obsessed that they never left the house and just, died here, waiting for their son to come back. Pretty sad.”
That window was a bust. So was the next, as well as the door. They ventured into the hallway. There were a few square and rectangle imprints on the walls, but only one hanging frame left. With a picture. Hands shaking, Sam reached up and snagged the picture from where it was, careful not to cut herself on what was left of the glass.
It was a family picture. A wall of a man stood at the back with a practiced, dashing smile. To his left and a little below him was a woman with short, bright red hair. They were both in brightly colored hazmat suits, goggles hanging around their necks.
In front of them were two teens. A girl with bright red hair as well, but styled much longer. Next to her was a boy, younger and slightly shorter than her, with black hair. They were all smiling wide and bright, except for the boy. His was more hesitant, not quite reaching his eyes.
Sam pointed at the young girl.
“Did you know the Fentons had a daughter, too?”
Tucker’s eyebrows went up slightly.
“No… Something tells me I won’t like why.”
“You won’t. Um, kitchen?”
Sam saw another green flash and was anxious to get away from it. They bee-lined to the kitchen, and Tucker checked the windows there.
“So… There’s a few things you got right. The Fentons—” Sam pointed at the two adults in the picture “—were renowned scientists. They did some impressive breakthroughs. Like the kind they still teach in universities, but with a disclaimer attached. The more they went into their work, though, the more obsessed they got…” she trailed off in a whisper, tensing.
The house was creaking.
Tucker stopped in his tracks, too, eyes wide but lips pressed tightly together.
Nothing happened. The house stopped creaking.
Tucker let out a slow breath, eyeing the cabinets.
“Think there’s anything edible left around?”
She glared at him sharply.
“If you open any fridge or cabinet doors, I’m leaving you here alone. This place is bad enough, we don’t need to add rats or rotted food to the list.”
Tucker pouted but conceded.
“Fine, I’ll just starve. Keep telling me about the creepy doctors and their stupid creepy house while we check upstairs.”
Sam sighed in temporary relief. She didn’t think she could handle seeing a fridge full of maggots. Even if it has been almost twenty years.
They continued up the stairs, carefully, and Sam went on with the Fenton tragedy.
“The Fentons started growing obsessed with other dimensions. Specifically… the afterlife, and its inhabitants.”
“Like… ghosts?”
Sam nodded.
“Exactly like. They became convinced they could create a doorway into the afterlife, at the cost of their reputation. They got ostracized by the academic community once they started referring to themselves as ‘ecto-scientists’.”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t. Bunch’a wackos,” Tucker muttered as they ventured into an organized room with cool colors. Light blue walls, light green bed sheets coated in blankets of dust, so the only reason Sam knew they were light green was because she’s seen pictures of what the room looked like twenty years ago. She ignored the uneven pattern of small dark spots on the wall.
It was the girl’s room. Jasmine Fenton’s.
Tucker went straight for the window, but Sam hung back near the entrance.
“They didn’t actually open a doorway, right?”
His voice broker her out of her thoughts. She blinked.
“Hm? Oh, uh, allegedly, yeah.”
This house probably sat on an open portal. There probably was an infestation of something murderous in it. Sam shook the thought away. She’ll drive herself crazy worrying about that.
“Supposedly,” she continued. “The doorway was one of their patents. They had the science backing it up and everything. But they… There were rumors, around the time the supposedly opened the doorway, that there was an accident in the house involving their youngest. Daniel Fenton.”
Tucker frowned at the blocked window. A bust. They made their way to the next room. A queen bed bare of any bedsheets, and a large chest of drawers with an equally large mirror attached to it. The Fentons’ room. It had an extra window.
“What happened to Daniel?”
Sam shuddered, goosebumps breaking out across her arms. The room got colder, so much colder than it had been. A soft crackling sound broke out, like frost taking over with a vengeance. She opened her mouth to speak but her breath got stuck in her throat.
She closed her mouth. Breathe. Another flash of green, this one brighter than the others. Breathe. It was so cold, her teeth started chattering.
“T-t-t-tucker—”
“Y-ye-yeah, I’m-m ignoring it,” he said simply, tugging at the panels.
Fuck, how can he ignore this. Sam was so uncomfortable, consumed by such a sudden unease, she wanted to claw off her skin. She tried to ignore it anyways.
“Daniel— jesus I’m freezing —he was out of school a couple of days after neighbors heard a scream. That same night, the power went out in the whole town, except for the Fenton House.”
The freezing cold seeped away, leaving behind a frost pattern that didn’t melt on the mirror despite the warming room. Sam blew out a breath, sending out a silent thanks.
She frowned, unsure why she did that.
“A lot of people theorize,” she went in, rubbing the remaining cold in her fingertips away. “That one of two things happened that night. One, a backfired experiment drove the Fentons all the way crazy to the point that they started experimenting on both their kids, thinking they were ghosts.”
“Wait, both of—”
“Two, Daniel died because of said backfired experiment and his parents somehow managed to either bring him or his ghost back.”
None of the windows opened. They started for the next room.
“That’s… actually insane. And what do you mean, both their kids?” Tucker stopped for a moment, meeting Sam’s eyes.
“Did something happen to their daughter, too?”
Sam pressed her lips into a thin line. That’s the part rarely anyone knew about the Fenton horrors. Daniel wasn’t their only kid. He certainly wasn’t their only victim.
“I’ll get there,” she replied instead, looking away. “It only gets worse.”
“Christ,” he muttered.
They walked onwards.
“A couple of weeks after that, Daniel disappeared. But in those weeks, the Fentons became obsessive, borderline manic, with ghosts. Their nature, their morality. How to trap them, contain them… kill them.”
They were nearing then end of the hallway, where the last room was.
Tucker shuddered, sporting his own goosebumps.
“I don’t like the way you said that.”
Sam grimaced, sticking close to him once more.
“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. What’s worse, the Fentons called off the search party after just one night. They claimed they didn’t want false hope, they just wanted to lay their son to rest. They buried an empty casket, and Daniel hadn’t even been missing three full days.”
Her voice was hollow.
“Shit. They…”
“Killed their own son because they were convinced he was a ghost? Most likely,” she said bitterly. As far as true crime went, Amity Park’s dark secret was the worst she’s ever read.
Neither said a word. For one long minute, intentionally or not, they remained quiet, mulling over the terror a kid must feel when they realize their own parents saw them as something to be killed. And to think, they were standing in the house where it happened. Where two parents killed their son. Allegedly.
And their daughter…
As if reading her mind, Tucker quietly asked, “What about the girl? It gets worse doesn’t it?”
Sam swallowed, her mouth dry and throat sore.
“They—” she sighed. “After their son ‘becoming a ghost’, they got paranoid. Extremely so. If one of their kids was a ghost… They couldn’t stand the idea of having an imposter in their own home. There were reports of screams two nights after the funeral. Like, really awful screaming that went on for nearly an hour, I think. Authorities broke into the house after multiple calls to find the Fentons in the basement and their daughter on a table just… cut open. She died before the paramedics could get to her.”
Again, neither said another word. Sam wished she’d run faster. Hit Dash harder. This house was tainted in blood and betrayal.
Tucker clutched at his chest and Sam realized his breathing was short and sparse. Crap.
“Tucker—”
“I fucking,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Hate that we’re here. We’re trapped in like they were, but they— Fuck, they were kids. Their kids. Who does that.”
“Tucker, breathe,” Sam insisted lowly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He nodded, but only got a few gasps of air.
“I’ve been t-trying to hold it together but I just can’t— what if we can’t find a way out. What if we die here.”
“We’re not gonna die here,” she stated fiercely despite being unsure of it herself. “If the windows are a no go then we’ll just find a way to deactivate the security system, okay? We’ll be fine.”
Tucker nodded again, quiet.
It took another few minutes until he finally got his breathing under control. Sam squeezed his arm comfortingly, giving him a small smile. They’ll make it.
He returned the smile without a word and turned to the last room. They had windows to check.
She suspected it was Daniel’s room. It was the only one they hadn’t seen yet. Tucker tried to turn the knob but it didn’t budge. She frowned. Weird… thinking about it, all the other rooms had been wide open.
“Rusted?”
Tucker shook his head, shaking off another involuntary shudder. Sam suppressed her own. It was getting colder again. Tucker tried again to open it. No dice. The knob wasn’t budging. He let go of it, hissing through his teeth as he rubbed his hands together.
“The metal is freezing. It, uh, must be something with the heating.”
Sam gave it a try and immediately drew her hand back. Freezing was an understatement. A second longer and she would’ve gotten the world’s worst case of freezer burn.
“Tucker, I don’t think we’re allowed to go in this room,” she whispered, hugging herself to keep warm.
He gave her a look like she was crazy.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s Daniel Fenton’s room. All the other rooms were open but this one—”
“—is locked.”
“No. Look at the handle. There’s literal frost on it. There was frost on the mirror in the other room, too. I think—”
“If you say ghost.”
Sam glared at him.
“After everything I told you. Scratch that, haven’t you been feeling all the weird stuff in this house? The creaking, the frankly extreme cold spots, the fucking creepy green light!”
Tucker’s eyes went wide at that, mouth dropping open.
“I-I didn’t think you could see them. But that— that doesn’t mean—”
The house gave a violent creak, causing the floor to rumble threateningly. The temperature dropped drastically, covering the entire hallway in a light frost.
Sam’s teeth immediately started chattering from the cold.
“This is too much,” Tucker whispers, that underlying panic settling back in.
Impossibly, finally finally finally, they both saw the green flash at the other end of the hallway, flickering desperately before disappearing.
“Tuck,” Sam let out, mesmerized, overtaken by the overwhelming urge to follow that light. An itch she had to scratch, to claw at until it broke open. “He’s here.”
She didn’t know how she knew that, but she’s never spoken truer words. This she knew with absolute certainty.
“Sam.”
He was struggling not to fall for the light, but he couldn’t ignore this forever. Sam thought he’d be an idiot to do so.
She moved forward without another word. Shortly, she heard Tucker follow after.
When they reached the stairs, another flash of light burst to life at the landing, flickering that desperate staccato.
They continued to quietly follow the light wherever it appeared. It led them down the hallway of missing picture frames. Sam clutched the picture in her pocket. They reached a closed door. It was colder in this area, but the door knob was warm. It opened easily to reveal stairs to a basement showered in white fluorescent lights.
They went down the stairs with no hesitation, following that green light that was growing more and more desperate with each step they took. At the bottom, they were greeted by an empty expanse of white floor.
There were various metal tables, but all devoid of any machines or materials that one would expect in a lab. Because no doubt that’s what this basement was. There were discarded cords and metal scraps scattered across the room. But most notably, there was a large, round arch-like structure at the center of the furthermost wall. It was huge, its top scraping the basement ceiling. It had an indent, with two metal panels that interlocked in the center. As if it were a… door.
“Sam… is that—”
“Tucker, look.”
The little flash of green stopped by a blue button on the wall. It flickered swiftly, faster than any of the other times before it went out entirely.
They stayed there, standing, for a moment.
“Are we… are we about to find a dead kid’s twenty-year-old decayed corpse?”
Sam nodded shakily, not believing it either.
“I think so.”
They still didn’t move. God, it was so cold. She couldn’t feel her fingertips.
“What if something happens to us?”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
Two dead people found in the house during its abandonment. Three missing.
“And?”
She looked back at him, a soft smile edging its way onto her face.
“He deserves to rest. Doesn’t he?”
Tucker glanced between the blue button and the closed, arch-like door. Determination set into his features. He nodded.
They went towards the button. Tucker settled his hand over it first, Sam placing her hand over his. Their eyes met.
“This had to have been the world’s worst nap.”
Sam snorted and pressed his hand onto the button. The technology down here must be in better conditions because the effect was instantaneous. Concrete scraped against concrete as a rectangular hole opened up in the center of the lab.
From where they were, they could see it. A homemade metal casket that weirdly resembled more of an iron maiden. They found him. Daniel Fenton. He could finally, truly rest.
That’s when the pounding began.
Sam and Tucker turned to each other in horror. She felt a visceral tug in her gut she nearly threw up then and there. Instead she ran to the metal casket, dropping to the ground halfway there so she slid across the floor. The pounding grew louder, and it was definitely coming from inside. Tucker was frozen stuck by the button.
It only gets worse.
A faint sound, behind all the pounding. Sam leaned closer, listening. Her stomach dropped. Her head snapped towards Tucker, eyes a desperate frenzy.
“He’s crying. He- He’s still- o-oh my g- Tucker, help me get him out!”
This broke him out of his horrified stupor and he kneeled on the ground next to her. His hands were shaking.
“What do we do? What do we do?”
“Fuck, idunnoidunno- uh, grab, shit, shit, go to the other side. Maybe we can lift the lid.”
Stumbling, trembling, Tucker did as he was told and crawled to the other side. But he saw what was on the lid. Fuck.
“There’s a lick. Sam, it’s locked.”
She looked back up at him on the verge of tears.
“What! No, no it can’t be- it—”
“Just, hold on. I’m gonna go back upstairs. Maybe there’s something we can use. I’ll be back, I promise.”
She got the feeling he wasn’t really talking to her. The pounding quieted down but there was a muffled sound. A strained whimper.
“Shit,” Tucker whispered before running out and up the stairs.
Sam sniffled and laid a hand in on the biting cold metal of the casket.
“We’re gonna get you out,” she whispered, wiping at the tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. “I don’t really understand how this is even possible, but we’re not gonna leave you here.”
There wasn’t a response. Not a whimper or a knock. She was gripped by the fear that maybe they were too late. Twenty years buried and they were five minutes too late.
Tucker came stomping down the stairs, taking two at a time. She looked up to see he had an honest-to-god metal bat in his hands. Fully intact and not rusted at all. His hat was askew and his eyes seemed wild.
“He- he helped me find it. Nearly ran all over the house,” he said, panting heavily.
“Hurry up and break it,” she begged, not bothering to disguise the desperation in her voice.
Without another word, Tucker aimed the thicker end of the bat downwards and plunged it against the lock.
It broke apart with a resound clang.
“Help me with—”
But Sam was already crossing to where he was. Kneeling, side by side, they gripped the edges of the casket and lifted. A cloud of freezing cold air puffed up, obscuring their vision for a few seconds. They couldn’t see if they really did save a boy’s life, or if it was just his corpse playing tricks on them. But they heard heavy breathing coming from rattling lungs and not from either of them.
They’d both been holding their breaths.
The cloud dispersed. In front of them lay a young boy with matted white hair, brilliant green eyes drowning in tears and a grotesque muzzle caked from within with old and fresh blood. Metal clinked against metal. His wrists were chained to the casket. His knees scraped and bloodied from banging on the lid.
Tucker immediately removed the muzzle, which thankfully wasn’t locked. Sam’s heart broke. Shattered. The boy’s cheeks were caked, blanketed, with that same mixture of blood, his lips horribly scarred.
He sobbed, screwing his eyes shut against the bright lights.
“Thank you,” he rasped. His voice scraped against his throat.
Tucker and Sam held his hand. They cried with him.
“You’re safe with us.”
He always would be.
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cbk1000 · 1 month ago
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I want to get rats as pets again, but if we put their cage out in the living room, Seamus would never stop trying to make friends with them (after he stopped being scared of them), and I'm not sure having a horse-sized creature smashing its enormous paw on your house because it wants to play would be the most fun a pet could have.
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celaenaeiln · 2 years ago
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Dick “I don’t kill because it’s too easy” Grayson
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Assassin's Creed x John Wick Crossover
I'm on a fucking roll today. Okay, so:
Desmond Lives (that's a given) and the world is saved. Horray!
He has all his memories and POE-enhanced abilities.
He gets thrown back to the day he ran away from The Farm as a reward from Minerva. Assassins and Templars are still a thing but now both factions are in steady decline because of Isu Bullshit mucking up the past and future because of the Solar Flare messing up the POE and the Grand Temple that sent shockwaves from Desmond's sacrifice which completely alters the whole timeline.
He still likes to work as a bartender, cause he's good at it. Only now he also doubles as a bouncer, because he has a few issues due to instincts, some trauma and ptsd from his past to work through, that beating the stuffing out of rowdy assholes has become a wonderful outlet for. No one wants to cause trouble on his shift.
People start to talk about the teenage bartender with the sketchy past that beat the living daylights out of a brute of a tough guy harassing the staff and customers at the bar he worked at. Said brute of a tough guy was later found dead a few alleys over, inside the dumpster. (Eagle Vision tagged him red-gold, so very important. Very much needs to be dead asap.) They can't prove it's him, but they have a suspicion.
Turns out dead guy is- well, was in trouble with the Continental for doing business on Hotel grounds and had a hit out on his head. Somebody from the staff, happens to end up at the bar and hears about the rumors that their newest bartender was the one who did him in, sees said bartender in question and low and behold, Des is there being all sweet and charming the tips straight out of peoples wallets without a care in the world.
"No way... him? But he's so-?"
"Nice? Friendly? Looks like he couldn't hurt a fly? Yeah, I know. The guy you were looking for thought so too before he ended up tossed out on his rear. And then he ended up dead in a dumpster. Gary said he saw him follow after Des as soon as his shift ended. Thought the kid was a goner, but nope, came in the next day as fresh as a daisy."
So, the staff guy heads to work the next day and immediately lets Winston know about what he learned. Winton has a background check on Des to see if this is an up-and-coming mercenary and finds... nothing. This kid just appeared out of nowhere with the talent of a very skilled killer.
(The Assassins and Templars are either completely written off by most of the criminal underworld as fanatical cultists or are unheard of by a majority of the criminal population. They don't work with crazy cultists. It's just too much trouble.)
Winston, of course is very intrigued. Enough to give Des a chance and hire him to work at the Hotel bar. Talent like that should be nurtured, no?
So, Winston has Charon scout him out and offer him a business card saying if he's interested he could go work for them. And Desmond's boss and other fellow staff are all begging him to consider it because of the Continental's fame and prestige would mean he'd get better pay and even a better life other than serving drunks and rowdy frat kids in a hole in a wall his whole life. They like the kid, but they think he deserves better.
Desmond, meanwhile, thinks that the way the amount of people showing gold in his vision has been increasing since he started working there should have sent him running... But, his instincts have never led him astray before and they surely wouldn't now. So, he goes.
The premise of this whole idea is, Desmond goes back in time after the Solar Flare Fiasco of 2012, runs away to New York and ends up wrapped up in the John Wick universe, and proceeds to inadvertently turns the New York Continental and its associate businesses and partners into a modern-day Assassin Brotherhood without them or the High Table actually knowing it's an Assassin Brotherhood. (The Elder might know, but I'd think he's a Hidden One Sage allied with Minerva, whose glad her chosen has fulfilled his duty and is more than happy to let him have the Hotel.)
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meganechan05 · 12 days ago
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The Toei (Enby) Lesbian Pose
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This is just a redraw of something from Sept 2023 to test my change in artstyle.
Comparison below:
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bihastuff · 2 years ago
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They said " fuck men"
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bolly--quinn · 3 months ago
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not to demean OP’s headcanons in your post about diane and ricks relationships and attributes, but it seems wrong to say that Diane’s been portrayed as an airhead bimbo in the fandom. i think with this character we know little about it’s not outrageous to propose that diane could’ve been a gentle, kind, loving person—someone who might’ve been a little soft, or shy. why is that impossible for rick (especially in the past) to have fallen for that? why are these traits not good enough for rick? these traits dont necessarily mean weakness or stupidity
Oh!! I totally agree and I hope that my post didn't seem to suggest that she can't be a total sweetie peach as well!! That's kinda what I didn't like about fear no mort tbh (I know it was Morty's fear but the writers said it was accurate and that made me a bit :/) she seemed too rough around the edges for my taste as the episode progressed (like her depiction when they went to get ice cream and to the zoo was perfect to me because we could see that she takes no shit but is so fiercely loving)
I totally agree and think that she can definitely be gentle and loving without being an "airhead" and that she can be nurturing and sweet and a brilliant badass
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romancemedia · 1 year ago
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Conan saves the village, but gets caught in the avalanche (Movie 15)
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blurrymango · 6 months ago
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in the phase 1 bios they literally described noodle as “irresistible” they knew what they were doing
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NAH FORREAL THOUGH THEY REALLY DID.
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LIKE C'MON SHE MAY BE FICTIONAL BUT SHE IS 11 YEARS OLD HERE WHY WOULD SHE BE DESCRIBED AS IRRESISTIBLE.
She's. I think she's the only loli character I've ever been attracted to. Wait no. It's her. And Lady Sullivan from Black Butler.
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I like Sully a lot. A lot a lot.
And ffuck! Sully only speaks German. And phase 1 Noodle only speaks Japanese. I don't speak EITHER OF THOSE LANGUAGES. So I'd be totally lost in a heavenly scenario where I was around both of them.
Anyway I bet Noodle's favorite Powerpuff Girl is Buttercup. My favorite Powerpuff is also Buttercup hehe. :3
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