#because human would kill them so...

[fearandhatred]

the genocide is fucking crazy bc at the end of the day it's so extremely xenophobic. like it is genuinely unthinkable for this to happen to a western or white-passing country. it would be shut down so quick

[scriblesandbits]

So god created us in his image, right? And that’s cool and all but what if it turns out god, like, hates his own image??? What then????

[keferon]

…..I should be working rn but one of the songs in my playlist hit harder than usual so

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Good reveal au, where after learning phantom's identity and realizing the atrocities that the GIW have committed (or alternatively, ethical science au, where they find out the GIW plagarized them), the fenton parents decided to create the 'ultimate ghost-ending weapon' and sell it to the agents.

They go absolutely overboard, describing to the agents in meticulous detail how it evaporates any ghost it hits near-instantly and describing it quite ruthlessly in the blueprints, and soon the GIW have raplaced all their main weapons with the new gun.

Except it doesn't actually kill ghosts. It's the Fenton Bazooka. You know, the one that creates a portable portal to suck the ghost back into the ghost zone? What they actually did was retool it slightly to make it look more grusome than it actually is. They even added a beacon in Phantom's Keep, which all Fenton Bazookas will target when they open a portal, so the ghosts are always delivered to the keep.

From there, Phantom stationed an emergency medical team at the keep to treat the many injured and ragged ghosts that the GIW 'destroyed,' and to explain what just happened.

What they didn't anticipate was that now that the GIW have a mass-produced weapon that they believed would effectively eradicate ghosts, they would go on the offensive. They have a number of cities they've been monitoring but didn't want to get involved in without better tools.

One of those cities is Gotham.

And the Bats are ectocontaminated enough to register as ghosts.

Batman witnessed several of his children get evaporated by green energy weapons within mere moments of each other. He's absolutely gutted. Devastated. They didn’t even stand a chance.

He'll get his revenge, and it's frighteningly easy to track the weapon to private subcontractors. The Doctors Fenton, in Illinois. Their research calls for the genocide of all ghost kind, and apparently, that war started by killing his own children.

His children will not die in vain.

He gets to Amity Park and finds the Engineer's Nightmare of a building that is Fentonworks, but that night, before he can hack through the security and break in, one of the windows opens.

It's one of his kids that he had watched evaporate before his very eyes. They give him a silent signal of one of their identifying security codes and gesture for him to come inside.

Is it a trap? A prank in poor taste? Utterly genuine?

He goes through the window.

All of his dead kids are there, wearing borrowed pajamas and only their dominoes to conceal their identities. Daniel Fenton (son of the Fentons, this is his bedroom, has voiced a few arguments against his parent's views, but still an unknown) is among the crowd of teens and young adults, twirling on an office chair and obnoxiously sipping a capri sun.

"First thing you need to know, Bats," Daniel says after finishing his drink, "is that my parents are absolutely NOT genocidal ectophobic scumbags, and that is the reason why your kids are still alive."

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 338

So the GIW is the Ghost Investigation Ward and not the Ghost Extermination Ward, yes? Hear me out, hm? 

See, it’s really hard to study ecto-entities when they’re going all over in and out of the world. Really hard! And of course they aren’t like, sentient, studies for years before the boom in this one town showed this! But, the overgrown not-birds (they’re still debating that) are really hard to watch doing their natural thing when they naturally mimic people around them! 

So! They got this idea, right? Their operatives can capture some! They’ve even made enclosures based off of what they currently know! It’s like containing crows, down to the mimicry & puzzle solving just er, with opposable thumbs and intangibility. 

And they don’t succeed first tries of course (Wow were said operatives frustrated and maybe cursing a bit that might be a bit violently) but then they get some assistance from the Fentons! Trying to hit an ecto-entities’ wings in a way to not permanently injure them is hard, but the new net canons that a ghost can’t pass through? Perfect! 

They have so many specimens now! They even released a few that were very much uncontainable- they rely on technology a bit and that entity kept unlocking all the doors. So catch and release with that one it is!  

They even managed to catch the white-haired ghost! In double! Which might not seem that important, but! As they realize during intake & initial examination (wow are they bitey) the two appear to be young! Something their ectobiologists only theorized about but oh are they excited! (Now if only the two would stop trying to escape their enclosure that’d be swell! Look, toys! Foo- oh dear God that baby ecto-entity is melting- Oh few, okay note taken to raise ambient ecto levels in that room dear god that was horrifying and stressful. … Maybe get some feelers out for feeding unstable energy entities…) 

[nibbelraz]

i think the changes should also apply to him but like. in ways where he will not realise it. lqg throws a really heavy carcass or smth at him and everyone is all "a candle for the soon to be crushed peak lord" but sqh catches it just fine. >:( be careful shidi!! they're so confused. someone else tries to pick it up and- oh, jesus, fuck thats way too heavy. how is sqh handling it fine?? mobei finds out because theres a trap or array and sqh just scoops him before it activates. holding a whole ass demon man with one arm and his sword with the other. hes going to be boasting about it for WEEKS. his human is so much stronger than other humans AND some demons. your stupid princess shizun could NEVER

YES YES YES 100 PERCENT I can see everyone gaping at him like WHAT. WHEN? HOW? HUH?

I actually think Qinghua is pretty strong, especially being from An Ding with all the work he has to do, but with the whole god business, it's a whole other level he's rivaling DEMONS!

I'm actually obsessed with the idea that once Mobei Jun gets carried he immediately thinks about how much better his husband is compared to the emperor's consort the image of how smug he is thinking he got the better human is so funny to me

Rough sketch below of Qinghua carrying Mobei cause I think he deserves to get carried by his God

[celestialbruise]

PIDW time travel fic where after dying Shen Jiu wakes up in the past, after the ling xi caves and his subsequent qi deviation, with a chance to change his fate. Bingge also wakes up in his fourteen year old body, memories fully intact. Now, instead of actually changing their ways Bingjiu just try to kill each other in increasingly violent, hilarious ways

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[swan2swan]

So, what happened to Yaz's stuff?

She was living on a campus where at least one person got eaten alive, her phone isn't being answered, she was last seen getting into a vehicle that's at the bottom of the lake, and no bodies were found.

Do they move her stuff out of the dorm?

Is it considered a crime scene because the DPW got exposed a few days later and the suspicious disappearance of the Nublar Five and the deaths around them mean she might have been the target of a hit, or an accomplice? Bowman was a former DPW worker, after all.

Is her laptop in a forensics lab? Are all her clothes vacced up in bags after being checked for dinosaur samples and hair? Are all her notebooks and sketches filed in cabinets after being combed for clues? Or did her roommate just throw them out?

[backpackingspace]

Do we think odysseus started pranking Athena and her temples at some point? Because I do. He argued that it was good for sneaking and evading training. And you know what Athena couldn't argue that. Her chasing odysseus across the island was good training.

[morganbritton132]

Me: *talking to my sister and my mom about how i like to read about moments in history where people eat each other for survival*

My Mom: I would never eat a person. I would just starve to death

Me, defending cannibalism for some reason: You don’t know what you’d do when a situation is that dire. 

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[kedreeva]

What would happen if a chick had nothing to imprint on, not even hatchmates, or if it couldn't see anything? What would that chick act like?

I don't know, as that would be very cruel to do to a baby, so no one would or should do it.

[themagistersbirthright]

i have so many tag games to do when i finally make my inquisitor and rook

[thesizeofyoursoul]

Someone more talented than me should write a meta comparing Armand and In ho and the performances of their respective actors I'm so serious

[cheaploafs]

WIP Wednesday ✨

Thank you sm for tagging me! @flowersforthemachines

I’ve been working on writing siren au recently and have been enjoying writing Ivy’s POV for chapter 2 so far! Here’s a little snippet of them currently in the Dellamorte estate after breaking in to check on their now favorite human, Lucanis <3

Various books could be found stacked on the wooden table separating the fireplace and him, some with painted covers while others a wall of text. There was a bottle with some form of liquid inside it, a glass right by the floor nearly finished. It was tempting to give it a taste but that isn't what Ivy came here for. Who knew when the mortal would wake and spending time being distracted wasn't going to help. All they needed was a good look at his face and with how his head laid perfectly still against the pillow, they may have gotten exactly what they needed. Ivy's eyes studied his features just as they did on that stormy night by the shore. His hair was shorter then, the nest of hair on his face wasn't as apparent either. The bags under his eyes weren't so prominent and he didn't appear to be so… fragile before. In a state of rest that should be a comfort, the human looked exhausted and overall restless. Beneath the rough exterior however was still the human Ivy saved that night. It was their first hunt in months after their parents caught them last and they couldn't even enjoy the spoils because well, the spoils were already lost. Yet Ivy saved him anyway, using their strength to bring life back to him and making sure others of his kind came to his aid. They still didn't know why they were drawn to him. He was just another human, something Ivy still couldn't believe. What are you? their curious thoughts lingered on as they brought a hand closer to his face, barely touching the skin out of fear. A string of guilt slowly rose to the surface as they finally left his side, their eyes catching the patterned fabric just at the edge of the seat. How could they think of killing the one they saved so easily like this? They took the fabric into their hands with a form of caution, bringing it close to Lucanis' legs. Their brief distraction came at a cost though when an ill placed glass tipped over, clattering right against the tile floors. Ivy froze, their hands dropping the fabric back to it's original place and as expected, the humans sleep was disturbed. He woke with a freight, his body twisting in their direction and without any thought, Ivy sang a song of slumber out of panic. What normally would sound like claws scraping against wood became a sound they never knew they had, an enchanted melody that caused Lucanis to fall right back into sleep. Shit.

I never know who to tag for these things so if you see this i am tagging you 🫵🫵 I would love to see your works if you have any!!! 🫶