Curious as to what abilities Jazz has in your cryptid au. Phasing through walls is a gimme, but cal he do other ghosts things like knocking over objects, possession or screwing with technology (especially relevant)?
The first thing Jazz learned about being a ghost was that he could find the people or things he was close to in life, which wasn’t a lot of things, but that does give him the ability to always be able to track down Prowl.
Jazz can go through walls, or other objects. He’s mostly invisible to living beings unless he chooses otherwise. Even though he can’t be seen he can be felt, cold spots linger where he haunts, and people might be prone to seeing things out of the corner of their eye the longer he’s around. The longer he spends around someone without revealing himself the more unsettled they’ll become.
Gravity only really applies to him if he tries to lift something up or interact with someone. He has to make himself exist more to interact with the world which makes him less transparent, and gives him a little bit of weight.
Jazz is still pretty new to being dead, so he’s still coming into his abilities and learning about what he can and can’t do. Older spirits are more powerful, and can interact with the world in more bizarre ways. Like manipulating things like electricity, weather, or even possessing people or objects.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Oops I posted the first chapter and a related onshot for my submas au where Giratina accidentally shatters Ingo into a million pieces and does its best to put him back together without really understanding humans to ao3 but forgot to share here.
A piece for a fic I'm writing that I may or may not post. Basically the gist is that there was a car accident and all of the Beta kids died. The red on his skin and hair is from the crash that killed him.
I used a different process on this than normal and I have to say I think it looks good. Honestly I could futz around with the opacities more but I don't really care enough.
Total time was 24 hours and 27 minutes and honestly that's insane. I did the sketch in a different way than normal, and I rendered it hells of more than normal.
I couldn’t think of anything for Ectober Week day 5’s prompts, so since I’m only doing the week and not the month, I stole a prompt from earlier in the month: Cause of death.
Coroner’s Report
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
[Warnings for autopsies and death and gratuitous swearing]
[Recording Begins]
"Subject is Daniel J. Fenton, age fourteen. Rushed to the hospital after a supposed accident in his parents' home laboratory. Pronounced dead on arrival at 4:18 PM, September 20th, 2004."
The voice of Amity Park Medical Examiner Dr. Osiris Blanch speaks into his recorder. He does this so he doesn't forget anything when he writes his official reports. He will transcribe the recording into his written report later, as he always does, for the police and insurance company and whoever else to use in their investigation of the boy's parents.
He has a habit of talking to himself while he works anyway, narrating his actions, so recording is the most efficient way to ensure he provides an accurate coroner's report.
"Cause of death appears to be electrocution," he continues.
As he records, he is looking at the state of the corpse, covered in subdermal burns. Even hours after his death, the coroner could still smell ozone in the air, and he could feel the hair on his arms slowly standing on end from the static.
"In addition to electrical burns below the skin, the body appears to have some peculiar burn marks spanning from the left hand to the heart, atypical of electrical burns. Possibly... plasma burns, or some kind of radiation burns? Do I need to get a Geiger counter in here? Christ alive, what kinda lab did this kid get fried in exactly?"
There is a sigh on the recording, the sound of coffee being sipped from a mug, a loud, metallic clack as the recorder is placed on a steel implement stray, and another, quieter clack as Dr. Blanch puts down his coffee cup. The scraping of a scalpel being lifted off the implements tray very near the recorder.
"I will now begin the autopsy by making a Y-incision of the abdomen—AH!" The scalpel clatters against the metal autopsy table. "Ha... static shock."
Dr. Blanch's voice begins to sound uneasy here.
"I'm uh... I'm making the incision now." The quiet squelching of skin being sliced by a sharp blade is almost drowned out by the coroner's shaky breaths. "Shit, keep it steady..." he mutters to himself. "When did it get so goddamn cold in here?"
The scalpel quietly clicks against another tray, away from the sterilized instruments near the recorder.
"I'm opening up the chest now to begin the autopsy."
A sickly squelching of flesh and sinew being pulled apart is heard on the recording, and then a gasp from the coroner.
"The uh... the lights just flickered a little," Dr. Blanch explains. "There's no storm or anything that might cause a blackout, but if some idiot crashes into a telephone pole and knocks out the power, I'm gonna be pissed. This jobs a pain in the ass if the lights go out. Not to mention all the corpses in the drawers'll start to decay if the freezers turn off, and then I'll be up a creek."
An electric buzzing sounds briefly.
"Damn. The lights again," he says. "I can't just leave this kid cut open on my table and check the fuse box. Somebody else had better get it fixed though, or I'll give 'em hell." He sighs and scoffs before resuming the autopsy. "Anyway, I've opened up young Mr. Fenton's chest cavity and christ alive, I've seen a lot of people's entrails but this kid's look like an overcooked stew—"
The electric buzzing returns, louder, but only for a moment before the sound of glass shattering hits the recording, along with the thud caused by Dr. Blanch jumping in surprise and bumping hard against the other autopsy table behind him.
"Ow, fuck!" he shouts. "The fucking bulb just blew, and I hit my hip on... on... uh..."
All that can be heard on the recording for several seconds is an eerie distortion that hadn't been present before, almost melodic in the way it makes one's stomach turn with dread
"The... corpse... it's... shit it's definitely glowing..." the coroner says finally, voice overwritten by the strange distortion. "Fuck. Fuck! Should I be wearing a hazmat suit for this autopsy? There's no way this kid isn't radioa—what that fuck was that?" Dr. Blanch interrupts himself, followed by another thud as he backs desperately into the other table behind him.
"There was just... for a split second there was—there it is again!" he shouts. "Like, a ring of light, around the middle of the kid's body, flickering in the blink of an eye and then vanishing," he describes, voice awed and terrified. "I do not get paid enough for this freaky shit. If this kid sits up, I'm quitting."
His words are drowned out by a scream, the scream of an adolescent boy, quickly joined by the scream of a middle aged man. The screaming continues for a long time, until finally, both run out of breath.
"What... what's happening, where am I?" asks a young voice, alongside the sounds of skin sliding against metal.
"You're... I was... this is..." for once, Mr. Blanch seems to be at a loss for words. He is watching a pale and naked young boy try to hold the Y-incision in his chest cavity closed with his bare hands. "You were dead!" the doctor finally manages to shout.
"I'm not dead!" the boy shouts back.
"I can see that now!"
"Did you cut me open?"
"You were pronounced dead hours ago!" Dr. Blanch defends himself. "I was only doing my job! How the hell was I supposed to know you were still... alive... oh lord am I glad I didn't remove your brain first, christ alive!"
"My brain?!"
"Forget about that now," Dr. Blanch says, and he takes a deep breath. "You're not bleeding. Do you feel pain?"
"I... no... no I don't why doesn't this hurt?" the young voice asks frantically.
"Lay down, I'll stitch you back up," says the coroner, and the quiet metallic sounds indicate that the boy obeys. "I don't know what's happening, but this kinda thing happening sure as shit isn't normal. I'm gonna start with the stitches now, alright?"
"Okay."
"You're Daniel Fenton, aren't you?"
"Yeah. I go by Danny though."
"Well, Danny, the fact of the matter is, you were definitely dead when they put you on my table earlier," Dr. Blanch explains, sounding resigned, if not actually calm. "Fuck if I know what that makes you now, but I do know that I don't get paid enough to make a fuss about it. Lord knows I'm gonna ask for a raise after this, though."
"So... what now, then?" Danny asks.
"Now, I'm gonna finish stitching you up," the coroners tells him. "I'm gonna give you a sheet to cover yourself with, and I'm gonna call up to the hospital and give them absolute hell for sending me a corpse that wasn't actually dead."
"I thought you said I was dead."
"You were, but I'm sure as shit not gonna try to explain that!" he lets out a brief, hysterical bark of laughter. "I'd be sent to a loony bin before I could blink! No way am I telling 'em that. I have a doctor friend who'll give you discharge papers if I ask without actually checking you over if you want, so you won't have to worry about them finding anything... unnatural. We went to med school together, and he trusts my expertise."
"That... would be for the best, probably," Danny agrees. As he says this, he is looking down at the incision on his chest, halfway stitched up and still not bleeding.
"I'd say so," Dr. Blanch concurs. "I definitely don't wanna get in any trouble for cutting open a living kid, even if you weren't when I did it." He sighs heavily again. "Jesus christ what is my life coming to, today? Anyway, after you're discharged, you can go home to your family, and I'll wipe any and all information about your autopsy from our systems and we can both pretend this never happened, and your quote-unquote 'death' was just a horrible misunderstanding. What do you say, Danny? Sound like a plan?"
"Yeah," the boy's voice sounds even more relived than the coroners. "Sounds like a plan."
There's a quiet click of the needle onto an instrument tray.
"Ah, I forgot..." Dr. Blanch mutters.
His footsteps are heard walking to the other tray, the one of sterile instruments. There are loud thumping and fumbling sounds as Dr. Blanch picks up the recorder to turn it off.
Hey guys I'm back on my bullshit! Here's hoping it goes well lol but we all know that's just a pipe dream.
Anyway, here's the previous part!!
Now onto the chaos!
A coffin is still fukcing heavy and you're telling me Jake and John ALONE can carry the fucking thing? omg.
I feel like Roxy is not treating this funeral the rightul respect and somberness it deserves, but is it just me or...?
Aradia and Sollux! and they really don't give a shit about most things dont they. Aradia only came here for the corpse party and honestly, slay
I get heart palpitations when Dave calls Jade babe. also poor karkat he's at the back. noooo
Wait. Is teen dead jade from fucking MEAT??? or is she the one from. uh. the caliborn narrative takeover thing. listen its been a while since i read the later homestuck ok i barely remember what happened in act 6
LOL YES AWKWARD ROSE RIGHTS
Jane. Jane you fucking moron.
Karkat literally do not rise to the bait I am begging
"sometimes i wonder what it'd be like if he was still here" FAMOUS LAST WORDS
SO IT IS MEAT JADE
MOTHERFUCK
please god just let john and terezi be together their dynamic is SO GOOD
oh they're 26 now awesome
OH NO JANE WHAT THE FUCK
okay i know it's bad to blame everything on jane but I HAVE A FEELING SHE'S INVOLVED
WHAT OKAY WHAT THE FUCK
POPULATION CONTROL IS ONE THING BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT ABOUT NOT ALLOWING TROLLS TO ADVANCE POSITIONS THAT"S BULLSHIT
oh? OH???? RESISTANCE POG????
okay fuck everyone else rebellion leader karkat is my bitch now
why is eridan fuschia is this a typeset error
john you're a moron (affectionate)
:((( what happened to "not taking your shit" roxy :((((
Save Tavros From Evil
yknow what i hate about candy davejade rn is that they keep everything buried and pretend everything's fine. like jade baby at least push dave or pester rose about what's wrong with dave like....?? idk! but not this!!!
okay. what the actual shit jane. yknow what? you're a bitch! you're a full on bitch and i hope you get what's coming to you. what the FUCK am i hearing from you? that is NOT how you treat your friends/datemates!
fuck you guys im reading a bunch of aus to cope wit this mess of an epilogue
okay i love and support whatever john's trying to do but this plan is. not the best.
I just skipped over an entire conversation because i cannot deal with that rn. someone tell me what happened during the time john tries convincing tavros to leave the crocker household
WOW OMINOUS
johnrezi/junerezi rights :((((
:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((
KARKAT!!!!!!!!!!
Huh. That's a less brutal capital punishment than I was expecting. Still horrifying! but I expected more blood. which was kinda dumb of me lol.
REMEMBER WHEN KARKAT USED OT BE SO EMBARRASSED BY BUCKETS??? MY BOY HAS GROWN
Kanaya Is Right Karkat Call Dave That Bitch Is Dumb Enough To Run To Your Side The Instant You Ask For Him
But Bat Your Pretty Eye For Extra Simping
MEENAH
let's kick it karkat lets goooo
NO THE FISH PUNS ARE COOL
That is a whole ass page of words sir
John :(
"epilogue six" what the fuck does this mean
these kids are thirteen w h a t
ARE KARKAT AND MEENAH TOGETHER????
okay aradia has a point its extremely ironic for karkat to reach the peak of his heroism in a world that objectively *does not fucking matter* and the "meaty" timeline where everything "DOES" matter is where he's... well, we all know.
oh no,,,,the davejade wedding,,,,this hurts.
THIS HURTS DAVE IS STILL LOOKING FOR KARKAT
okay everyone seems to be like, convinced meenah and karkat are a thing but are they REALLY? karkat hasn't come out and said anything specifically.
HE RIPPED HER PHOTO NOOOOOO
lock industry?????
Vriska's back everybody say hello
"is it the prince" IM SORRY WHAT
when WHO falls???
jake what the fuck happened to you. oh my god you don't deserve this. leave her. leave jane's stank ass.
ah. i remember karkat talking about how he wasn't to blame for mr. crocker dying, in hs2. guys id apologize for spoiling myself like this but i think you'd understand: this post-canon thing is pain. everything hurts. if i want spoilers im getting spoilers.
GUYS. NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU DIDNT BUTT YOUR STUPID GODLY SELVES INTO THE MIX. THE FUCK ARE YOU BLAMING THE TROLLS FOR. JANE.
oh boy.
WELP THAT'S PART THREE FOLKS. WOW I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS I WISH TO UNFEEL. THE BLOOD OF MY DREAMS HAVE BEEN SACRIFICED TO THE GODS OF PARADOX SPACE AND NEVER AGAIN SHALL I SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Tag, You’re It
It was a game they played, perhaps. Something to keep the terror of the real-world away. Harry was doted on by the five of them and everyone—even Remus, who didn’t really like babies—was well-versed in looking after him. Tag, you’re it, they’d say, passing over his bottle and his favourite stuffed toy. Tag, you’re it, as if to say, you look after him. As if to say, if I die.
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Here’s a wee one-shot I wrote largely at 1am after a poignant Bring Back Black conversation in Discord. It’s got a happy ending at least? I’d love to hear what you think!
