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scarletsaphire · 1 year ago

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This is the second fic I did for @ecto-implosion. This one was for @skarlettskwrl's art, which can be found here. Very cool art with a very interesting concept, lots of fun to write!

Summary:

Jazz moved away for college to start her own life, far away from ghosts. She didn't expect for her parents to finally capture the ghost boy and bring him to their lab. She didn't prepare to race back to Amity Park in an effort to save her brother from whatever grizzly fate awaited him. No matter how fast she went, she wasn't fast enough, or strong enough. She would never make that mistake again.

Trigger warnings for: Gore, violence, permanent disfigurement, dissection, unwilling transformation, patricide/matricide, bad parents jack and maddie, and wolves

Jazz's heavy breathing kept time with the pounding of her footsteps on the pavement, which in turn matched the pain in her head. She was tired. She was so, so tired, but that didn't matter. She couldn't stop. She was too late as it was.

Danny had assured her that he would be just fine. "You don't need to put your whole life on hold just to look after me," he'd said with a roll of his eyes. "I took care of myself just fine before you figured everything out."

Jazz had mirrored his eye roll. "Yes, because getting beaten up twice a day, failing your classes, and trying to give yourself stitches at one in the morning is taking care of yourself."

"I survived, didn't I?" He'd said.

"No, I'm pretty sure you didn't," Jazz had said. "But you are right. You've gotten better at taking care of yourself. And Sam and Tucker will still be here to clean up whatever messes you make." She ruffled Danny's hair. "I'll accept the offer."

The next few months had passed in a whirl of ghost fights and preparation until the day was finally here. Jazz had packed up her car with her belongings and had driven twelve hours to her new college campus. She'd declined her parents offer to help her move in; she appreciated it, of course, but she wanted to commit to the move - jumpsuits and the GAV weren't the greatest way to make a first impression.

Jazz wasn't able to disconnect from Amity entirely. She watched the news every day, normally as background noise while she studied. It was nice to see what her family was getting up to, even if it was normally accompanied by some kind of massive fight.

It was, of course, stressful. The first few days had her regretting her choice to move away at all, with every live report sending her down another spiral of what ifs. But she had been working on managing her anxiety, and she'd been a part of those fights enough to know how they would go; ghost shows up, Danny kicks butt, their parents show up, Danny runs away. She didn't need to worry.

And then Danny had gone down to a surprise Fenton Bazooka, gotten sucked into the thermos, and been carted away in the GAV, and Jazz knew she had messed up.

She'd already been awake for nine hours before she'd seen the news.

She hadn't grabbed anything besides her keys, hadn't even bothered to check traffic or the weather or anything. She just ran down to her car, skipping as many stairs as she could, and peeled out of the student parking lot. She'd driven as fast as she could, but the drive was still twelve hours, and she had to stop for gas, and she was still human and needed to eat and it didn't matter what she did she wouldn't be there fast enough.

Jazz was beyond tired by the time she entered Amity Park. If she hadn't pulled so many all-nighters in high school and then so many more as a part of Team Phantom, she would've been a mess. But she was fine. She was fine. She had to be fine because Danny-

She hoped that her hunch was wrong.

She hoped that she'd get home, and find her whole family, safe and sound sitting around the kitchen table, fighting off a hoard of ectodogs before deciding that they should just settle for takeout again. She hoped that Danny would be playing Doomed in his room and her parents would be down in the lab, trying to figure out how to remake their technology to not hurt Danny.

She hoped that Danny had gotten a chance to tell them and their love for their son was stronger than their hatred for ghosts or their need for knowledge.

Jazz hoped. But she knew her parents, and she knew, with a sick kind of certainty, what she would find when she finally reached Fentonworks.

Amity Park was nothing short of a disaster. Some time during her drive, another ghost had attacked. Neither Danny or her parents had answered the call, which left Valerie to try and take the threat down by herself. The roads were torn up from the fight, and traffic was at a complete standstill no matter what way Jazz tried to take.

It had only taken a few minutes stuck in traffic for Jazz to ditch her car entirely and start sprinting across town. She ignored the exhaustion clouding her brain, weighing down her arms and legs. She ignored the pain in her chest and her head.

She needed to keep going. She needed to be faster.

It took far too long for Fentonworks to come into view, another small eternity on top of the long one she'd already put up with in the car. She barreled up the front stairs, tugging on the door knob. It was locked. The door was never locked; locked doors didn't do anything to stop ghosts, and that was the only concern that warranted concern in the Fenton household. Jazz fumbled her keys out of her pocket. She squinted down at them, trying to figure out which one of them opened the door.

It took too long for her to figure out which one it was. It took too long for her tired, clumsy fingers to open the door. It took too long for her to get into the house. She shouldn't have left in the first place. What had she been thinking, abandoning Danny like that? Her own brother, who had been working so, so hard to keep everyone safe, and she'd just up and left.

She was a horrible, horrible sister.

She pushed her way into the house. It was dark, and quiet, and mostly clean. That was terrible. The only time Fentonworks was anything comparable to clean or quiet was when her parents were busy. And they were only ever busy when they were in the lab.

Jazz started the walk into the basement on shaking legs. She should be running. Maybe if she ran she would be able to stop them. She would run down the stairs to find her parents standing over an unconscious Danny. They'd be shocked to see her, and listen to what she had to say, and they'd apologize and hug her and Danny would wake up with no memories and a family that loved him.

Maybe, if she had stayed. Maybe if she had been faster. Maybe if she'd been a good sister. Maybe if she'd kept her promise and been the only other Fenton that put family first, that didn't get swept away in their own desires. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybes didn't matter right now.

Right now, Jazz was descending the stairs, and she could taste the sour tinge of ectoplasm mixed with a too-strong metallic flavor, and she could hear the sound of her parents talking, even if she couldn't make out the words. And then she turned the corner, and she could see.

The portal at the back of the room was the same bright green it almost always was, rendering most of the room as green tinged silhouettes. Everything except for the table in the center of the room, the blinding fluorescents all resting on three people and lighting the scene with blinding clarity. Jazz's family.

Jack had his back to her, humming a familiar tune to himself. His normal orange suit had an additional mask.

Jazz recognized it from a half dozen science experiments the two of them had worked on when she was younger. He'd worn it while they worked on her first baking soda volcano, Jazz wearing a much smaller, teal one. They'd added too much, and had gotten the mixture all over their suits. She remembered laughing about it as they wiped their hands across their faces, trying to clean off their eye protection.

Now, Jack's suit was covered in a bright green liquid, specks of red just barely visible in every splatter. His hands weren't busy wiping off a harmless foam, but carefully depositing something into a jar. It might've been a liver, but Jazz tore her gaze away before she could properly identify it. She didn't want to know what it was.

Unfortunately, her eyes found something so much worse. Maddie was dressed nearly identically to Jack. She was faced towards Jazz, just enough for her to make out Maddie's expression. Her face was steady, frozen in a look of concentration, but Jazz could recognize the glimmer of fascination in her eyes. A fascination that was directed at Danny, lying unconscious on the table.

At least, Jazz hoped he was unconscious. If he wasn't, then he'd be aware of Maddie's hands wrist deep in his chest cavity. He'd be aware of his skin peeled back and pinned to the sides of the table to keep it out of the way, as if it was nothing more than a nuisance for Maddie and Jack to deal with. He'd be aware of the fact that his organs were being carefully packaged into labeled jars, that he was being taken apart piece by piece as if he was some fucked up puzzle that they were going to rebuild later. If Jazz didn't do something, then maybe they would.

But Jazz was going to do something. She didn't know what, exactly, it would be, but it certainly wouldn't be pretty. She wanted to make them hurt, just like they'd made her baby brother hurt. But how could she? Jazz may be strong, but her parents were stronger.

And wasn't that just the theme of the day?

Jazz just wasn't enough. She wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't dedicated to protecting her family enough to keep them safe and sane. And now she'd lost all of them.

It didn't matter.

She wasn't going to just stand there and watch. Even if she couldn't actually do anything, even if the only result was that she'd end up on the table next to Danny, then she'd do it. Jazz lunged down the next step, charging towards Maddie as fast as she could. She was the one who was hurting Danny. She was the one that needed to be stopped as soon as possible.

Somewhere in her leap, something shifted in Jazz.

Originally, her jump had been clumsy. She hadn't put any real thought into what she would do when she landed, pushed forward entirely by her frustration at herself, at her parents- at everything that had happened.

She definitely didn't put enough power and care to soar through the air, and yet that's what she was doing; her feet were stretched behind her, yet never so much as brushed the ground, even as she traveled further than she had intended to.

That was fine. It just meant she was closer to her goal.

Jazz landed crouched on the ground just ahead of where Jack was standing. She was moving again before his shocked yelp even reached her, continuing towards Maddie. Jazz tackled her, knocking Maddie away from Danny.

Good. That was the goal.

Jazz tore at Maddie with her hands, sharp claws tearing through both protective clothing and skin. Maddie shrieked, the sound shrill and loud. Maybe it was from how long Jazz had been awake, but the sound made her head spin.

She blocked it out. She couldn't afford to get distracted.

Her hand was sticky with blood when she felt the burning pain of an ectoplasm blast, she whirled around, snarling towards Jack. His eyes were wide with terror, a Fenton Blaster pointed directly at Jazz, the muzzle dripping the small bit of ectoplasm that had liquefied during the blast onto the floor.

Jazz almost laughed; was he really so far gone that he couldn't recognize either of his children? He should know that that wouldn't work on her.

Oh well. It worked in her favor.

She left Maddie bleeding on the floor, pushing off of the ground with her hands and feet. She stayed low; the Fenton Blaster might not be able to hurt her as badly as it might hurt a ghost might hurt Danny but it was still unpleasant. As long as he had the blaster in his hands, Jazz needed to stay small and fast. Another blast went over her shoulder, leaving a sizzling puddle on the ground where it hit.

That was her opening.

In just a few bounds, she was next to Jack. She wasn't sure what came over her, but before she could think, her mouth had closed around his leg, teeth digging into soft flesh. She could taste the latex of the jumpsuit he always wore, but the flavor was quickly washed away by the salty, metallic taste of blood.

Jack howled and tried to tear his leg away, but Jazz only bit down harder and harder. Distantly, Jazz could hear the sound of the Fenton Blaster being fired again and again, but Jack's aim was just as terrible as ever. Still, Jazz bit down harder.

The snap of bones between her jaw was not surprising.

Jack was strong, and his continued struggles only put more and more pressure on the bone. Honestly, the fact that Jazz had managed to keep the leg clenched between her teeth in the first place was impressive. With the breaking of his bone, Jack crumpled to the floor, the blaster flying from his hand and skidding across the metal floor with a horrible screeching noise that caused Jazz's ears to ring.

She let go of his leg and made her way so she was positioned just above Jack. His eyes were filled with tears, and broken pleas to not hurt him, to let him and his family go, that they didn't do anything wrong tumbled from his lips.

This time, Jazz did laugh at the irony of the situation, but all that came out was a low growl.

She could spare him; he'd learned his lesson about messing with her pack- he wouldn't be making that mistake any time soon. And he was still her father. Her eyes met his gloves, stained a sickening mixture of red and green.

No.

He hadn't had any mercy on her baby brother, on his own son.

She wasn't going to have any mercy on him.

Once again guided by instinct, she snapped down on his neck. Jack's strangled cry of pain was quickly stifled as he choked on his own blood.

Jazz stood up from the fresh corpse. She should wipe the blood from her mouth, but her job wasn't finished yet. Maddie was still whimpering and moaning from her side of the room, unable to move from the damage to her abdomen.

Jazz could finish her off now. It would be easy.

But Maddie wasn't her priority. She never had been.

Jazz padded up to the table to start assessing Danny's injuries. She could just barely see him, the edge of the table blocking most of her view. She must still have been crouched, even though she felt like she was standing.

She tried to straighten to her full height, only to find that she couldn't. Maybe she'd hurt something without realizing it, but she didn't feel hurt. The only pain was a slight sting from where Jack had hit her with the blaster.

If she wasn't able to stand, Jazz would just have to pull herself up. She reached both of her arms to the table, trying to grab the edge and was met with the sight of clawed paws drenched in blood. She flinched backwards, and the paws flinched with her.

Oh. That was her.

Jazz felt the familiar feeling of panic surge in her chest yet again, carrying with it the taste of bile. She forced it back down and returned to her quest of getting to Danny. She couldn't afford to panic right now, not while Danny was on the table bleeding out. Everything else was a secondary concern.

This time, when she lifted her paws, she did not flinch away. Moving felt weird, now that she was aware of the changes, but she managed to lift her head up to get her first clear look at Danny.

She wished she hadn't. Just as she had seen before, his abdomen had been cut in a neat Y shape, the skin peeled back and held down by evenly spaced clamps. His rib cage was exposed to air, and the left rib bones had been severed, letting her see straight to the thin layer of flesh on the other side, no organs or muscle to block her view. His stomach cavity was exactly that; a cavity. Everything had been removed until all that was left were some twitching muscles.

His face had not been spared from the mutilation. His mouth had been pried open with a metal gag, the device still stuck between his lips. Teeth had been forcibly extracted, the front part of his tongue had been cut off, and dried blood and ectoplasm pooled in his open mouth. His eyelids were pulled back, similarly to his torso, and his eyes had been completely removed. The cavities left behind had been filled with some kind of brownish silicone mixture. They had been trying to make a mold. Jazz didn't know what to do. If she'd had hands, then she'd be able to gather the organs, stitch Danny's torso back together, and inject him with the emergency ecto dejecto. If they were lucky, then he might be ok, at least physically. Eventually. But now she didn't even have that small hope.

She couldn't stifle the whimper that came out of her throat. She couldn't recognize it as her own, far more animalistic than any sound she should be able to make. By all accounts, nobody should be able to recognize it as her, and yet the moment the sound passed her lips, Danny's mouth opened.

His voice was broken, garbled and strained, but his words were still understandable. "Jazz?" he whispered. He seemed to be trying to lift his head to turn and look at her. He couldn't, obviously. Jazz couldn't actually reply, couldn't offer the comforting words she wanted to, no matter how empty they may have been. She couldn't offer the apologies she'd been reciting in her head for hours now. All she could do was whimper again.

"I..." Danny said. He gave up trying to move, letting his head and neck go limp. "I knew you'd come."

If Jazz hadn't forced Danny to drive her to the Far Frozen to learn ghost medicine, she would have panicked as Danny's body started to glow a soft blue, and then started to collapse in on itself until all that was left was a glowing orb in the same color Danny had glowed. But she had, so instead she saw it as a symbol of hope.

It was very, very hard to permanently end a ghost. Most of their physical forms were built on ectoplasm, so they could sustain a lot of damage. Even the worst injuries could be healed in time. However, in the case that they were seriously injured, they could retreat. Reduce themselves to just their core, focusing all of their energy into fixing their form.

Doing this meant that ghosts could heal nearly everything in a matter of weeks, sometimes sooner. It wasn't something that could just happen at any time; the ghost needed to feel truly, completely safe, and even then, it took energy to condense like that, so if a ghost was too far gone by the time they got somewhere safe, they wouldn't be able to do it.

Danny had enough energy to retreat into his core, and had trusted Jazz enough to do it. As long as Jazz kept him safe, then he would heal. He would be ok. Jazz nudged Danny's core gently off the table and into her mouth. She'd seen videos of dogs carrying eggs in their mouths before, and figured that was the best way for her to get Danny out of the lab. She was surprised to find how natural it was, even with how incredibly cold Danny's core was.

Jazz made her way out of the lab, not sparing so much as a glance at the carnage she left behind.

She had already failed Danny once. She wouldn't be letting him down again.

#ectoimplosion2023 #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #jazz fenton #tw gore #tw dissection #tw permanent disfigurement #tw blindness #tw matricide #tw patricide #tw bad parents jack and maddie #jack fenton #maddie fenton #tw transformation #werewolf jazz

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none-shall-caricature-me · 1 year ago

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Lol I'm gonna get so much flak for this, but here are my opinions on The Coffin of Andy and Leyley (I didn't play it myself, I watched manlybadasshero's playthrough on Youtube and I think he covered all the endings except the one where Andrew accepts his mom's offer and regrets killing her) -

So, first the most click - drawing aspect of the game - the incest subtext / text / whatever. Let me clarify a few things. People say that Andy is attracted to Leyley too, and the ponytail scene with Julia is considered highly suspicious by many. While I agree that there are definitely grounds for the incest route to be an option, I think people get the evidence for it vs innocuous stuff mixed up. The ponytail thing, I don't think that it's evidence per se of incestuous feelings on his part. If you're close with your siblings and had fun with them, you may transfer some of that behaviour to your interactions with your lovers purely out of playfulness divorced from any projection of incestuous longings. If he liked pulling on his mom or Ashley's ponytails to tease them as a kid, he'd enjoy fooling around that way with Julia too, it's not damning. Same with the belt loops thing, some people are handsier that what is considered socially acceptable but it's in an innocent way. His embarrassed, evasive reaction to their mom encountering them on the sofa could be simply out of a desire not to be misinterpreted due to his sister's weird statements having created fertile ground for that since long.

But I agree that they have possibly sus vibes even before the climax of episode 2 with THAT route option - in the subtler scenes, the ones that many people overlook eg the lip caress towards Ashley in which his expression turns embarrassed. It could be due to simple sexual frustration on Andrew's part i.e. the action reminds him of his needs but he doesn't desire to do it with Ashley BUT her constant insinuations make him uncomfy at being interpreted that way. Besides, will that vision necessarily come true ? Who knows. Andrew's terrified reaction and him asking 'We're not like that, right?' could be him simply wanting to avoid this shit out of disgust and hoping Ashley doesn't harbour such intentions towards him. Ashley teasing him about the vision and her innuendos throughout the episodes is uncomfortable though.

Even so, I agree that some of Andrew's statements and actions can definitely be interpreted as sus. It's possible that he has such feelings for her.

What about Ashley ? Well, she has NO shame in teasing her brother with such remarks. I was enlightened by the explanation offered by others on Youtube, Youtube comments etc that she's a weirdly, unapologetically precocious sociopath who DEFINITELY MAY resort to incest to keep Andrew as her emotional crutch if she doesn't give up her abandonment complex and keeps believing he'll leave her eventually because he dislikes her. It depends on the route you choose. If she learns to TRULY accept his independence, thus gaining his affection and a stronger bond with him, she's no longer insecure and doesn't have to seduce him ('Burial' route 1). Then their relationship remains platonic. If she continues to be insecure and fearful, but in a childish way towards his 'Andy' persona ('Decay' route), she may opt to fuck him to tether him to her but imo that's less likely because her attachment is childish. In 'Burial' route 2 though, though she learns to respect his wishes, she doesn't give up her dogged possessiveness. It's like she grows to like the 'Andrew' persona but this time, the liking is romantic not platonic. She's still not willing to NOT be the one and only in all aspects.

So what is my view on this aspect of the game ? In real life, such a possibly incestuous dynamic would make me super uncomfy. But in fiction, things don't feel 'real' to me. Unlike others, I have empathy for the platonic side of Ashley's abandonment complex because I, too, used to be deathly scared of being hated and abandoned permanently by my sister who was my emotional crutch. I, too, am a fucked up person (not in the same way as Ashley though) who's really hurt my sister and sometimes been really hurt by her. So I understand where she's coming from, though her actions towards Andy's dates are far too cruel and her possible openness to incest way too squicky. I applaud the game for exploring abandonment issues and the pain and resentment one feels when your pillar of support likes their friends' company more than yours.

While the incest route is yucky, I think in fiction, it can be interesting to explore. That ending comes into being through the sheer force of Ashley's desperation + stubbornness + lack of remorse over doing squicky things, AND Andrew's submissiveness + possessive attachment fostered by their circumstances. It's morbid and fascinating. It's the culmination of the worst aspects of codependence, spinelessness, ruthlessness and amorality. If you see fictional narratives as fictional and not as real, you are capable of recognising how fun it is to dissect and analyse this trainwreck. This game is SHAMELESSLY true to its gothic core, and that's a good thing for people who like exploring fucked up human psyches and situations as detached, impartial observers.

Both Andrew and Ashley are very interesting characters. Forgive me, but I think that the people who say 'I'm rooting for the protags to die cuz they're awful criminals' are either performative people - pleasers or simply too understandably sensitive to handle such topics. That's okay, I understand the need to be socially accepted, I used to be a performative people - pleaser to the EXTREME myself as a teen.

Well, what about the cannibalism ? Here, some of you have to face the reality - cannibalism has happened MANY, MANY times throughout history everywhere in the world. It isn't restricted to a bunch of cultures / regions that people like to demonise as a depraved, subhuman 'other'. Western and Eastern Europe, East Asia, South Asia, the Middle East, Africa; and in all civilisations. It's the expected outcome of extreme starvation. Most people have the innate urge to survive, except those who are suicidal somewhere deep down. You may say 'oh but even if I were dying from starvation, I wOulD NeVEr, ThaTs eVil 111 !!!' - no. Have you ever even experienced extreme starvation ? Did you know that even in many suicide cases too, the person's fear of death kicks in at some point, usually too late, leaving them to struggle in vain to live ? If you ever were dying of starvation, you seriously wouldn't even eat someone already dead ? Stop deluding yourself. Unless you're in the suicidal / suicidally idealistic 1%, you'd definitely do it too. I'm not in that 1% either.

The cannibalism was justified in Episode 1, but not in Episode 2 - that was too much, I'm sure there are other, better ways of disposing of the remains. So why did they do it ? Was it as a final 'fuck you' to their parents' memory? Maybe.

Welp, that's my take, and it's much more realistic than that of the reactionaries.

So yeah. Andrew and Ashley are both depraved and intriguing. The plot was entertaining. That's it. If you wanna play it, mind the trigger warnings because this game pulls no punches.

If I'm wrong somewhere, feel free to correct me.

#the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #andrew graves #the coffin of andy and leyley spoilers #tcoaal spoilers #tw cannibalism #tw incest #tw murder #tw matricide #tw patricide #tw sex abuse #tw abuse #not bsd #tcoaal

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neoncityrain · 1 year ago

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so people liked the previous comic more than i expected, heres page two

#trojarts #rain world #rw artificer #artificer rain world #tw: blood #matricide #rw sin eater au

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everglow-synth · 7 months ago

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"Mother's day, huh? ...Wonder if she enjoys burning in Hell."

Clearly he's not too happy today.

#eldritch insanity | jonathan #musings | jonathan #tw: matricide #tw: mothers day

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lithi · 6 months ago

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I never expected an ending like this. The perfection I gave birth to just stabbed me.

#LETS GOOOOOOOOOO #IM SO EXCITEDDDSSS #hashtag matricide #YESSSS #똑 닮은 딸 #like mother like daughter #spoilers #tw violence #tw violent imagery #tw blood #tw stabbing

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shredsandpatches · 24 days ago

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Today in Incredibly Stupid Takes. It's not technically the absolute worst critical attempt I've seen to clear Gretchen of infanticide -- that's the one that tries to argue that the baby is actually stolen for retroactive (?) use as a potion ingredient in the Hexenküchen (!) -- but it's so dumb and reading it that way really cuts off the power of Gretchen's story at the knees. If you argue that Gretchen didn't kill her baby at all (and, in the case of this article, that she didn't even have a baby in the first place) the implication is that the only thing she's being punished for is having sex out of wedlock. Which isn't a crime! Not to us and not to Goethe! And it is so important that her redemption prefigures Faust's, that she is guilty (albeit with mitigating circumstances) and that she is saved -- gerichtet und gerettet.

(Okay I didn't need to quote the German but I love that wordplay so much)

#goethe was neither the first nor the last to write with empathy about situations while not living up to it in real life #it probably also helps that he specifically created gretchen's circumstances #and the real world was murkier #it's not clear how the accidental matricide fits in either #hot faust summer #tw infanticide

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demivrg · 4 months ago

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//Demivrg: independent Final Fantasy XVI roleplaying blog for ULTIMA and BARNABAS THARMR.

Mun: Kkeungi (he/him, they/them) Age: 30+ Timezone: Pacific Standard (UTC−08:00).

-RULES-

This blog is essentially a big spoiler, so those who have yet to finish the game should probably not follow me.

I don't follow for follow and will be very selective with other FFXVI RP blogs.

I block pretty liberally, so don't take it personally- Or if it is personal, I just request you keep your beef with me private (vagueposts do get back to me through mutuals, even if you think you're being real smart and sneaky about it).

All hate will be blocked and deleted.

Triggering subjects will be explored, I will do my best to tag content and use read mores.

Make a new thread if we're continuing an ask answer.

I'm Korean, genderfluid, and a bunch of other stuff- so no racism or bigotry will be tolerated in my space.

I am on the spectrum, so I request you be direct and transparent with me in communicating, because I'm not good at parsing hidden intent or 'socially polite' ways Allistics use to not tell the truth.

I will give out my Discord on a case by case basis for my own protection, I know Tumblr DMs are shitty, but please bear with me until I get to know you a little better.

-ULTIMA-

Ultima is also known as the 'Blind God' and others of their species are also blind. They are able to sense and be aware of the world around them in other ways.

Ultima's kin are known as Archons.

Ultima is 'Ultimalius' and was primarily known as The Architect rather than a 'king'.

Ultima has no gender, though remaining texts writ by the Circle of Malius referred to them using masculine pronouns.

Ultima's species are The Fallen, a civilization of evolved humans who managed to harness the power of 'magic', which is in of itself is a technology (magitek) and a language they developed by communicating with a formless being of energy they believe to be or at least have created the universe as they know it.

Magic is a combination of voicing or writing the 'true words' of forces in the universe (The Eight elements) and imbue them with aether (energy/lifeforce that make up the Eight elements) while using willpower to visualize the outcome. For example, the symbols on the obelisks throughout Valisthea are able to work independently because they are imbued with a deposit of aether and the symbols inscribed channel the aether to do specific things (i.e., fast travel) as formulaic/geometric magic… which explains why they start releasing amounts of aether everywhere after Ultima starts Primogenesis.

Typeless 'magic' uses energy harvested or channeled from the formless energy being that I need to eventually name, but Eikonoklastes still were considered sensitive to or highly attuned to aether enough that they were valued to operate magitek.

The Magitek War was not even a 'war against god', but a war between Ultima's species until they realized they were draining their world of aether (causing death/The Blight) and used magic to assimilate to a higher plane of existence (beings of energy similar to but not the same as the entity they discovered) and became the Ultima Collective. They are the collective will of The Fallen's desire to survive, but also remake a world where they can live peacefully without suffering or death.

-BARNABAS-

Sleipnir is based off of Barnabas' former comrade and best friend, the original Lord Commander of Waloed's cavalry. Sleipnir's core personality is based off of Barnabas' memories of the man, but fails to be a truly perfect re-creation, which is upsetting to both parties involved.*

*Sleipnir roleplayers do not have to go along with this concept, it was an idea I personally wanted to explore having Sleipnir based off/having the memories of another's perception of someone and not matching simply by virtue of being what Barnabas WANTS them to be. I will happily plot with mutuals to follow along with their own personal lore and headcanons for Sleipnir.

Barnabas never wanted to occupy his father's throne, but when he was chosen as Odin's dominant, it became his responsibility to oversee the realm. He's the equivalent of a career soldier, the only time he ever felt truly alive was when he was in the midst of battle and returning to a 'proper civilian' life that involved political schemes and mindless bureaucracy was akin to sleepwalking.

He often feels completely emotionally numb and enters fugue states of depersonalization, which lead to more and more extreme ways to try and 'chase the dragon' in order to experience any kind of emotion- including negative. The act of killing soldiers during war no longer brings him joy, so he slaughtered women and children in order to experience the guilt and despair that came from enacting such profane crimes against humanity. He had members of the court tortured and imprisoned, he even killed his own mother with his bare hands despite harboring a deep familial love for the woman.

Being rendered Akashic by Ultima did not cure him of his lassitude, but gave rise to a more animalistic intensity and hunger for stimulation, which comes out most notably when he finds a truly worthy opponent.

He has been waiting a long time to find someone strong enough to put an end to him, believing that if no mortal man can set him free, then perhaps a God might.

#◎ ooc #◎ pinned #matricide tw #murder tw

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atangledfate · 1 year ago

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" I think about killing my mother alot, To finally be rid of her... If it were only so easy as that... "

Luna was not some weak kitten who ruled with a title alone--- She was every bit the monster frost was, and then some.

" I suppose every daughter desires to be rid of there parents at some point. It is only natural..."

#IC #Dash Commentary #Scion of Winter #Frost #tw matricide #tw murder

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accessible-tumbling · 5 months ago

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ID: Screenshots of a Twitter thread.

The first screenshot is of a post by Nneka [Nigerian Flag emoji] @ Playm8z with text reading: "Want to see a fool?" Attached below is a screenshot of another Twitter post by To sleep. Perchance to dream. @ wan…[trailed off] with text reading: "People still think misandry and misogyny are equal lmfao. Men will KILL you."

Below that post is a reply from Itsliam @ William50848585 with text reading: "And women will DIVORCE you"

The second screenshot is of a reply to the post by @ Playm8z from Jess Bess @ 6Jess6Love6 with text reading: "Y'all really can't admit that divorce is often terrible for a man? At least with death it's sometimes be quick, divorce is almost always long, drawn out, and painful for the man. Both are equally evil in the sight of God's eyes, so let's just all love each other, yeah?"

Below is a reply to that from Nneka [Nigerian Flag emoji] @ Playm8z with text reading: "Fuck off!"

The next screenshot is of a reply to the post by @ Playm8z from [sparkle emoji] Muscle Mommy [sparkle emoji] (5'3 bt…[trailed off] with text reading: "sigh women just don't poison their husbands like they used to…."

The next screenshot is another reply to the post by @ Playm8z from the tortured Noah departme…[trailed off] with text reading: "he drove his car headfirst into the point at 120mph and still missed it"

The last screenshot is of another reply to the post by @ Playm8z from Sato, the Artist (COMMS OP…[trailed off] with text reading: "it's funny women used to kill men before divorce. greatest part isn't even an argument to show the harms of misandry, real ones understand it only goes to show how dangerous misogyny is.

men can divorce too and they still kill women."

End ID.

#Twitter #feminism #misogyny #sexism #matricide #patriarchy #murder tw #hate crimes tw

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rainbowkrill · 4 months ago

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. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝘈𝘣𝘯𝘦𝘳's middle aged I'm going with late 30s and if you think about it the reason he is so unsocialized is because he spent his childhood years in STAR labs. Literally his mother , a scientist who worked there , treated him and his brothers and sisters as her own personal experiments . His mother was obsessed with trying to create super heros and infected him with an interdimensional virus that produced the dots that are more parasitic withing his body . Meaning that 𝘈𝘣𝘯𝘦𝘳 has to find a way to expel them else they'll eat him alive from the inside .

𝘈𝘣𝘯𝘦𝘳 committed matricide one day and when confronted with it by Grieves in a deleted scene for ' 𝘚𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘥 2 ' Abner claims he was scared and confused .

I think he killed her intentionally but after years and years of her abuse [ he was in his 20s when he did so] he may well have been terrified of course . His mother was a cruel woman . He killed her using the equipment his mother had invented to control the dots so they may be fired through his wrists

He escaped the lab for a few months until he was caught & detained . Then spent the last decade in prison pre film. . ⋆ ˚｡⋆

#ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵇᵉˡˡⁱᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵒʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᵈⁱᵍⁿⁱᵗʸ ! / ᵐᵘˢⁱⁿᵍˢ .#ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒʷ ᵖᵒˡᵏᵃᵈᵒᵗˢ @ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ? / ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ .#tw: matricide #tw: abuse

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idkfitememate · 11 months ago

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Hello ! I don't know why, but I just had the idea of a raccoon!creator that is in the Fortress of Meropides because he had stole a lot of things. I can easily imagine the trial with humans or hybrids against a raccoon that is just trying to defend itself.

Raccoon!Creator will just be a silly thief who was the first raccoon (and animal) sent to Meropides to serve time in prison because of crimes it committed.

(If you're okay with writing raccoon!creator, can i be the 🦝 anon please ?)

Have a good day and night.

They Stole What?!?

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Raccoon Reader vs Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 226

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Crack, so much crack

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I guess I can do silly thief ૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა-

“I guess you’ll be staying here..?” Wriothesley questioned.

He knew the rules and laws of Fontaine could be… weird, at times, but to enforce them on a Raccoon was… hmm…

It was that trial that all of Fontaine seemed to collectively realize that even the animals of Fontaine followed the rules and laws… huh.

Watching that trail felt like a fever dream. Wriothesley wasn’t one to come to see trials, but upon hearing it was a Raccoon… he had to. And so had everyone else apparently because it was a full house. Also watching a Raccoon defend itself was.. and experiencing.

The Warden genuinely felt like he was having an out of body experience the second the bars closed on Racoon who was glaring up at him. Your eyes bore into his soul in a way none of the other prisoners were able to. It genuinely shook him.

The worst part and most disturbing is what you stole.

You. A Raccoon…

…Stole the fucking Oratrice Mecanique D'analyse Cardinale.

How? They couldn’t figure it out but you did, that was confirmed. Why? No one can speak Raccoon so they didn’t know.

All the male knew was that you were somehow more dangerous than a good majority of the prisoners in the Meropide.

… Dear Archons what would happen when you get loose?.. He didn’t want to know.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I read your ask and then my first genuine thought was this encounter:

“What did you do?”

“Oh I stole, you?”

“Also stealing.”

“Damn… is that a Raccoon?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Why are they here?”

“…Mass murder, Attempted world domination, Sororicide, Forced lobotomy, Mutilation, Torture, Child abuse, Kidnapping, Vandalism, Stalking, Blackmail, Terrorism, Instigating mass suicide, Worldwide destruction, Incrimination, Brainwashing, Snuff filming, Propaganda, Sabotage…”

“What-““Extortion, Forgery, Gaoling, Defilement, Enslavement, Unlawful imprisonment, Crimes against humanity, Hate crimes, Mass murder, Prostitution, Mutilation, Indecent exposure, Harassment, Crimes against humanity AGAIN, Vandalism, Property damage, Enforced cannibalism, Cannibalism (unintentionally), Shoplifting, Attempted genocide, Terrorism also again, Assault and battery, Breaking and entering, Theft, Fraud, Rape…”

“OKAY WHAT-“

“Torture also also again, Psychological abuse, Incrimination, Blackmail also also also again, Corpse desecration, Mass kidnapping, Treason, Enforced suicide, Hijacking, Animal cruelty, Zoophilia, Extortion, Stalking, Smuggling, Arson, Attempted bribery, Conspiracy…”

“WHAT THE FUCK-“

“Infringement, Attempted global domination, Attempted matricide, Patricide, Graverobbing, War crimes, Trespassing, Embezzlement, Underage/hit-and-run, machinery operation, False imprisonment, Slander, Underage pornography…”

“…”

“… And more…”

“WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL-“

(For context I used both Junko Enoshima and Eric Cartman’s crime lists-) Anyway-

Their just a little guy officer ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Also welcome 🦝 anon! <3

#asks <3 #anon <3 #🦝 anon <3 #Raccoon!Creator

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devillain · 1 year ago

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He gave a nod as his deep brown eyes seemed to start to turn a bit amber, something those familiar with his mother would notice. It was no mistake Carlos was biologically Cruella's. Harry pulled him close, in that rough way that he just happened to exist in with Harry. No one was like that with Carlos, at least no one who got away with it. Harry was an exception which is why they were even having this conversation to begin with.

When Harry walked away, the amber in Carlos' eyes grew as he made his way to his car. He knew what he needed. He knew what needed to be done. He grabbed just what he wanted, the rest would be gotten rid of, even though most of it seemed odd. A very sharp stiletto that was gaudy with its fur embellishments, a bottle of perfume that could very well be acid or bleach, a dog collar with a tag on it that read Pet on one side, and Boy on the other, and the handle of the gear shift of a Panther de Ville. Nothing out of the ordinary for Cruella surely. But all things that meant something to Carlos.

He hid them away, packed them in his clothes as if nothing was even there. It was using what he learned on the isle. How he smuggled the good things from the barges, and he made his way back to Harry meeting him, and they made their way. He followed Harry until they switched places, a silence thrumming with energy was between them. Carlos lead the way through the tunnel, as if he had made this way before. But Carlos had a unique knack for directions.

His eyes seemed to glow red in the darkness of the tunnels. But it was only the beginning as they made their way to the grate that was at the decrepit De Vil manor. He climbed out, and Harry was but an afterthought now. All his focus was on his mom. Logic had left, he was only thinking of the plan he had laid out. He didn't have room to doubt as he let everything he had ever kept at bay overtake him.

She knew he was their immediately. And Carlos played the act well. Seeming like a lost puppy returning home tail tucked between his legs. It seemed convincing too, until you caught that gleam in his eyes, bright red almost fluorescent, a look his mother once had. Yes he was his mother's son. It was so easy as she folded him into her arms a mock show of love.

It started with the perfume in her eyes, causing her to be blinded as she let him go. With his slick movements he slipped behind her the collar going around her neck, too tight her hands moved to trying to loosen the buckle, and going away from her eyes. Evie would be proud as the stiletto took away Cruella's eye for fashion. She fell to the ground bleeding, but Carlos wasn't done in a manic state he took the handle of the gear shift and hit and hit and hit. He didn't stop, the blood hitting him.

Cruella would be a pulpy mess because Carlos was lost in himself. He didn't stop even when the glow faded and a sob escaped. He couldn't something wouldn't let him as he screamed in raw pain and anger, "You did this! You did!"

harry watched carlos hungrily, a sharpness in his curiosity as he studied his movements. there was an uncharacteristic buzz of energy around him now, a kind of hyperawareness that made him seem like he was seconds from coming apart at the seams. there was a desperation to carlos that harry had seen before in the eyes of men and women that had been pushed to the edge of madness and were about to take the plunge.

❝ it's our secret, ❞ harry promised, he reached out and grabbed a fistful of carlos' coat, pulling him close enough that he could smell his sweat. ❝ just you and me, carlos. ❞

harry was selfish at heart, the excitement he felt thrumming through his veins was as much for the soon to be dead cruella de vil as it was for the idea that carlos was entrusting him with such a profound secret. after so many years of egging him on, of watching carlos' unwavering loyalty to a woman that didn't deserve it, finally he had a front row seat to watch the finale. and he wanted to see it. as much to be a part of it as to be the thing that dragged carlos back to what passed for sanity on the isle. it would be a difficult thing for carlos, a thing likely to cause him more pain before he found relief.

❝ soon. meet me back here with what you have . . . i'll take care of the rest, ❞ harry met carlos' eye, pools of deep brown growing darker in the light, ❝ no going back now, ❞ he butted his forehead against carlos', a jolt of hard impact before he released him. he didn't look back as he walked away, confident now that carlos at least was committed.

he chose members of the crew he trusted most to watch the tunnels, to refuse others entry and ditched his usual attire for something more discreet. harry hook was always noticeable in crimson reds, his pocket watch and his hook. without them, harry passed as anyone else.

with his kill kit packed against his spine, harry found his way back to their meeting point only ten minutes after they had parted ways with a disposal site primed and ready. only when he spotted carlos again did harry begin to move. leading the other through the narrow streets of the isle and to the entry point behind the slop shop without another word. with the streets still bustling for the markets the pair blended into the crowds easily. harry pulled the crate door open and ushered carlos inside, following close behind him and into the dark.

#tw: death #tw: gore #tw: blood #tw: murder #tw: matricide #tw: stabbing #tw: choking #tw: blinding #tiderider #rp: tiderider : thread 1 #verse: end of the isle

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gloomyteddybear · 27 days ago

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crazy all-over & for you

oneshot

cw/tw: vague-ass spoilers for twin peaks; creepy fluff; danny's very delulu; some allusion to kidnapping but it does sound more like trapping (staying under coersion/ obligation/ dependency, not necessarily the baby-type); good ol' referenced child abuse (thanks johnson-senior); matricidal ideation (but you kill eachother, idek how to tag this shit)

can be read as a sequel to 'vulture.

when you become a writer or an avid watcher, you begin to take notice of patterns, tropes they're called. repetitions of behavior that makes up a character's personality, you know them at a glance and your immersion is ruined; eventually due to them, your taste begins to change towards the unpredictable. you want something more real, more marking, more scarring, more... if you want it done right, do it yourself.

danny lost his immersion in life. during his many years limping on earth, each life-lesson hammered in the teachings of his father.

teachings-rants that sounded like it described someone, that talked about people, about relationships, about loyalty, about fear, about respect, about trust, --- about consequences for breaking that trust.

'people are... you can't trust people to stay. you gotta tie them down, give them a damn good reason not to leave.' he slurred, his sour breath stank of fermented and stale bread, clutching tiny-him by the shoulder to look'im in the eye. ('just like you give them something to cry about' went unsaid)

if he were to describe his father in movie tropes, it'd be the crazy homeless man who was right all along. sounds harsh, but it's true. raving about the war, being watched, communists, trees and (his phobia of) spiders.

he learned everything from him, he was thoughtful as a father, always preparing him for the worst case scenario so he didn't need to worry too much while making contingencies for unaccounted variables.

a slap against the back of his head (it hurt, always made him cry when he was younger, but kid-him knew he held back) always reminded him to never let anyone sneak up behind, watch his surroundings.

he was his father, who did dad things like making sure his room's not clean (perfectly horizontal pennies), got food on the table (always canned), kept the house clean (the stomach-acid smell of white vinegar) and safe (gun safety, tourniquets, traps)...

gave him... affection (the heavy shoulder pat when danny finally got that deer) and told him bedtime stories, even though he grew too old for them (gunfire, the fading light in their eyes, shells-hock).

sure, danny hid under his blankets like a spider's cocoon and pretended to sleep when he was drunk (suffocating safety), but... he truly tried raising (a soldier) him.

his role in that relationship is stoic, patient and efficient. but you...

you didn’t know him by his real name– only as meek, weak, jed olsen--- you were... too... (minds eye picturing himself gesturing weakly with his hands to all of you) too you for danny, out of his league. but this man he pretended to be, meek but earnest, maybe he has a shot--- sure his typecasting was off (gaunt, grey, gangly and definitely not giddy) in his role as jed the only thing that salvaged his performance was his acting.

he couldn't reduce to just a love interest... it was... as if you were real. not a character unlike these... figurants--- these extras.

you warranted softness, normalcy, something he learned when comparing his childhood to others- he never had. you wanted a movie date (more like you were appalled that he never watched twin peaks, and wanted to amend that. but a man can dream) and he could never say no to you.

so danny has to make sure jed's house is clean. which includes... removing the evidence and preening himself 'til he looks presentable to his... (not a date, not a date, not a) series-binge-hangout-slash-maybe-comma-hopefully-sleepover.

danny grabs the collage of pictures on his wall and throws them into a shoebox beneath his bed (worst case scenario he'll say it's a sex-toy box, and lose more of his pride in the process) he feels kind of bad, like a parent boxing his kid's toys for a garage sale after they went away for college (not like he'd know what that's like, on neither end), he locks his bedroom for extra precaution.

now onto the... situation at hand... well, the ghostface's killings were described as messy crimes of passion, it's not going to be clean. it's not like he uses that sink to brush his teeth, anyway (it's broken to only use cold-freezing water, it's practically fate). it's not like the sink has visible traces of blood (it dries dark enough to look like usual inescapable grime) but-what-if you wanted to use the restroom and got sick?!

bleach, his father taught him, is just chemical white-out. he bets his father never thought he would use his knowledge of skinning deer for--- well maybe he did. gloves and a mask, disposable. his first bought-instead-of-handed-down sweater still has that pink-salmon-flesh spot.

danny uses mint air freshener this time, still have the same (spider) smell-of-crime warding-off properties of white-vinegar without the gag-inducing smell.

you shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits knock on his door. speak of the devil, but you weren't a devil, and he wished you'd appear as often as he thought of you. you smile at him, a hand holding what he assumes is the tape you brought.

danny keeps a hand on the door and stares as you enter, and closes it for you--- cushioning the doorknob behind him with both hands, he rocks backwards on his heels and plants his weight on the door until there's a 'click'. shoulders pressed against the wood as an anchor. trying to project playful, not predatory.

---him following soon after, he smiles. you smile back waving the tape in your hand. the ecstasy of having your eyes on his, it's a combination deadlier than any drug. he'd kill for one look, he'd die for one glance.

(4 weeks and 5 days of knowing him, you were so trusting its as if you wanted him to---)

"ready to create a conspiracy board? i'll even tell you if you're getting warmer," you smirk, all teasing "but for now, get us the snacks, henchman! don't want you to get spoiled for the plotwist."

jed made a mock "sure thing, boss." with one of those smiles he knew made his employers give him less work and spun on his heel to grab them (wasn't hard to, his pantries are practically for cobwebs). danny splurged a bit from his okay-ish paycheck, is it sad that this is the only indulgent thing he bought (aside from the hobby items) and it wasn't even for himself?

danny arrives, with the colorful packaging in his arms. all your favorites--- a coincidence that he also likes them (you two have so much in common it's like fate).

he sits beside you on the couch and you swing your legs over his lap, using him as a foot-rest when there's a perfectly available coffee table, oh-well. danny's not complaining. but jed does make a half-attempted whine-complain at the treatment.

you keep a close eye on his expressions, as jed plays up some of his reactions, not even paying attention to the show. the knowing smiles you had whenever anyone cried during the show, the dissecting gaze as you watch him just like he watched the show... it looked...his fingers twitched and he dismays at the lack of camera.

then, danny feels the weight on the couch dip and your neck is resting-bending uncomfortably on the arm-rest.

you're sleeping.

he resists to keep watching the series without your supervision (see? he has impulse control), and ejects the tape, keeping a mental-note of the hour-tally (a few episodes subtracted, for more time with you.)

danny stares, you looked so peaceful, untouched by the ghostface's reign of terror. this was where you belonged, in his... under...no, at his mercy.

he reached out a hand and trailed the delicate lines of your neck, he could just crack-snap your neck and get it over with... but it needs to be special, not just one-and-done murder, there has to be a build-up, some meaning for you, because this means so much to him. you have this stabbing grasp on danny and he wants to make sure that the feelings are mutual--- it needs to be mutual, its only good if your hands are also on his vulnerable throat. the only way you'll be allowed to die is by his hands and him, yours.

you both, at the same time. you will become his legacy and he will become yours, your deaths intertwined like veins of the same pulse. that's something to put on the headlines, a romeo of juliet but on-with purpose--- not due to some stupid misunderstanding but a mutual death.

you made your choice when you came here, you had to know what you were getting into, the newbie in town when, coincidentally, the murders began and he just-so-happens to be there to report ghostface's every move--- like a demented slasher-parody of peter parker. because you wouldn't be here if you...

if you... what if you didn't. you were only there because you didn't know. if you did, then you're danny's; if you didn't, then you're jed's.

that can't be. there's a narrative, a storyline, a fate. you were fated to be. you and danny. forever.

he's had a taste of what it feels to have you in his life, and it feels like---love a-and... it's like you wanted him t-to... (obsess, desire, envy, bleed).

--- and, and now he just can't let that feeling go. can't let you go, if you're not staying for danny, he'll just... tie you down and give you a damn good reason to stay.

#danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #the ghostface #jed olsen #implied child abuse #creepy fluff #sub yandere #idk if i'm getting good at writing him or if my headcanons are just taking a life of their own #i should prolly use other 'fics as reference but... i'm picky *pleading eyes emoji*#ʕ•ﻌ•ʔ <(posts!)

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