Dec 12, 2025
“What I mean is, yer makin’ yerself real easy t’ get violated, boyo.”
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“What I mean is, yer makin’ yerself real easy t’ get violated, boyo.”
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didnt realize how big the bioshock community was on tumblr.... I have been Missing out on autism heaven
I would also like to add on top of the age argument I had posted several weeks past. Please do not come to me anonymously in a holier than thou attitude with " Jatlas is incest. " No, no it isn't. Atlas / Fontaine is not related to him in any way. They don't share blood at all. Jack is a tool, a pet, a weapon to Atlas / Fontaine. That is the canon page of it. If ya think otherwise, ya clearly haven't been payin attention to the audio logs and radio messages. Frankie seein him as a son ? Now I know Frankie is good at sellin lies, so I'm not goin to fault ya for believin him when he gives sap stories. But out of all the things he sold, yer gonna cling to that ?
Yer bleedin heart -- " Bunch of suckers "
Bioshock As Spongebob Memes
Part 1
Starting off strong with this one. You don’t wanna know how many I have. 🤣
Welcome to my Bioshock Great Depression Paro! In this paro, Frank Fontaine, representing the capitalists, will face off against Atlas, representing the proletariat. Atlas, who has stolen Fontaine's briefcase containing 660,000 dollars and escaped the gangsters and Fontaine's pursuit, will use this money to change the dynamics of the New York gangster scene. Meanwhile, Jack, Fontaine's goon and adopted son, is also drawn into this chaos...
...Of course, what's even more intriguing is that Atlas is actually Fontaine in disguise...
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
it’s so fucking funny seeing posts like “ew this bioshock fan likes jatlas, what a freak” as if the entire story isn’t incredibly dark and morally fucked up
“butnurbhr you’re shipping a victim with their abuser!!!!” stop. just shush. none of this is real. most of us (not just jatlas fans, the fandom as a whole) have cooked up an AU where atlas is his own man. I personally live in my happy little fantasy where atlas is real and helped jack kill frank so they could raise the little sisters together. but you know what? even if I hadn’t, that would not make me a bad person.
if you don’t like the ship, that’s fine and you can shit on it as much as you like, but don’t act like you’re morally superior because of it. we’re all here enjoying a game that features torture, murder, kidnapping, rape, brainwashing, fucking eugenics, a whole laundry list of immoral shit. if you’re capable of acknowledging that enjoying bioshock isn’t condoning any of this, then you’re fully capable of acknowledging that enjoying jatlas isn’t condoning abuse.
Hey, should we form a cursed BioShock collective?
I want to see 100000 different kinds of interpretations of this game. I want you to bring your unique cultures and viewpoints to the characters and switch it all up. I wanna see so much fucking creativity and art and writing and characterization overhauls and shitposts.
I'd particularly like to welcome the weird fucks. Like if you enjoy kinky smut or Jatlas or Lutecest (or BioShock Infinite rofffflllll a whole-ass game).
What do we need to make a supportive community?
relationship(s): jack/atlas
rating: e
tags: atlas is real, atlas is not frank fontaine, pov alternating, alternate universe, not exactly Nice Atlas but not exactly Evil Bastard Atlas, jack adopts a little sister
summary: When Fontaine had mentioned that his Ace in the Hole was a mentally conditioned puppet that would jump if you told him how high, he’d expected some kind of mindless drone. Or at least not someone who had so much to him. Without saying a word, Jack’s eyes spoke for him, the tilt of his brow or the curve of his lips betraying every emotion.
It just didn’t fit. Atlas didn’t know what the hell to do with this.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jack made a quiet noise in his throat as a chill overtook him, tremors wracking his body as he felt even sicker. A sense of doom seemed to settle on his shoulders, like Death was perched atop him like a bird and awaiting his end. “Oh, god. Fuck, I don’t feel good at all.” Atlas swore sharply under his breath and got back to his feet, starting to tear the place apart and probably breaking most of what he got his hands on. Jack was only vaguely aware of it, too focused on how he was starting to float away from his body up toward the ceiling, all sensation leaving him and his extremities gone cold. Dying was so odd. Distracting. Shouldn’t he be seeing his life flashing before his eyes? But then, what would he see? Test tubes, white coats? Or a whispering corn field and wide open blue skies, completely fabricated but so, so familiar that they made his heart ache?
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