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[dogfohtaed-blog]

i wrote a daniel drabble. enjoy:

The night was young, back then. It had been young, and new, each passing evening when he was small. The sun would die, willfully lowering into it's own grave and allowing it's sister moon to crawl, risen from death of its own to sit atop the sky like a throne. Come to think of it, Daniel could only find it fascinating that even at such an innocent age, he was still using grim allegories and finding them beautiful... as it was. Death was, in it's nature, so god damn beautiful. The process of giving your body to the earth and fertilizing the newborn flowers and plants and allowing your empty husk to become a foundation for something so full of life. Body with earth, mind with sky, spirit with heavens... a process of rebirth, recycling. And yet, the beauty of ascension was still to be rejected for years to come, cast aside as nightmarish fever dreams. It was they, the ones who disbelieve, who were stuck firmly in a quicksand of deep naivety. Beauty could not be so very very far from their desperate grasp. No matter how much their fingers clawed, digging at the dull air for purpose... they would never take hold of anything. Harsh nothing would dance across fingernails for as long as they continued to deny truth being presented to them on silver platter. The night was young, back then, yes...  but now it was old. The sun was a bitter foe, beaten and worn from the clouds of abuse and only now set with the shaking hope that it would not rise again to meet the agony once more. The moon now did not rise from the dead as an angel re-risen, but instead dug it's way out as a demon of all layers of underground torment to forcefully claim it's crown of thorns each passing night. Lullabies from friendly music boxes turn rusted, twisted sounds of scraping metal against metal and the comfort of being tucked in nice and warm against softened sheets was now being restrained, tied with harsh rope to a bed of needles and being told to keep your balance or slide, punctured holes through the body till they protruded from the other end. The rain came down without so much as a hint of mercy on top of Daniel, pelting him in the dark with droplets that could very well have been rocks and he would not tell the difference. Not a single scar existed on him, physically... but there was something deeper. The burning pain of a defeat at the hands of a once beloved friend. The memories of poison come flooding back to him. Purple liquid traveling into his bloodstream and making his throat clog up with panic and his heart march on, march on as hard as it could until it collapsed. He remembered his shock when he awoke, lying on his back in an enclosed bed of dirt and flowers. Buried alive? No. Buried dead. Risen alive. Daniel had jutted his hand against his prison, weakened body collapsed instantly upon it's feeble attempt to escape. And thus Daniel was rendered trapped there, rotting away in a cage meant for one unable to comprehend it's horrors. He had a lot of time to think within that enclosure, and many things had occurred to him in rapid succession. The truth was what put him here. His kindness had been spit back in his face, and he had been punished for purity. The world was cruel like that, he knew...it feared perfection, feared the change they needed. Society was trapped in it's cocoon and refused to transition into beings of something bigger than this. They didn't want his caring and helping hand. They didn't want to ascend. That made him angry. The fact that he was only stuck here because he knew the truth... cold, dead lips had parted to make way for a string of silent noises. He didn't remember how to speak. How long had he been gone? Had it been long enough that his voice had since cancelled itself out due to misuse? Was it long enough that the world had already transitioned without him? Recycled while he was stuck on mortal coil? The idea struck him like cold ice, fear shuddering his form underneath the dirt. Was this punishment? What could he have done wrong to deny him a right to the ascension he preached? Daniel finally felt his voice return to him, and the first thing he did was pure animalistic impulse. He had screamed. Underneath that prison of his, muffled and utterly pointless, he had keened to the surface with conviction strong enough to win twenty wars. The scream was nigh instantly stymied by the falling dirt that filled between his teeth and onto his tongue. He had coughed, and then found that he didn't need to. Breathing didn't seem to affect him any longer, and that was a promising discovery. Now, mouth brimming with the very cage he was trapped in, he pondered. His head had been wracked with possibility after possibility of his new form, and of why he was given it... but he could not rest on an answer. So then, he turned to his next favorite subject. What would he do once he escaped it? He thought maybe he'd find his old leaders, and show them his new form. Perhaps he would reveal how worthy he is of true ascension, and perhaps they would reward him. Would there be a higher reward anymore, were this a purified form? Daniel thought then of what he wanted most in the world, and suddenly his head was filled with a single namesake. David. D a v i d. Yes, that was it, wasn't it? A grin had spread on his dirt-filled lips, and Daniel thought of David. Once upon a time, they had been friends, along with Jasper... but David forgot those days, now didn't he? That was a shame for him, wasn't it? A defeat at the hand of such innocent arrogance...how foolish he had been. But was he the fool? Or was David, now that he had come into a body that could not die? Daniel silently fantasized what he might do when he saw him again. Purify him? No. David didn't deserve that. Something in Daniel's head kept screaming at him about that. It was a voice, keeping him company in the recesses of his head. He was ready to listen to anything other than the repetitive static of dry stillness. It told him that David was his perfect opposite. A being that could not ascend, a being full of such earthly sin that the only way he could ever find rest was in some form of purgatory. He did not deserve to live. And that was the thought that rose him. His hand jutted out harder this time against the dirt, and this time had succeeded in breaking much of the dirt. He reached a second hand up, and began a crawl- almost a swim- upwards with sharpened fingernails and mouth still full. He had to close his eyes to avoid filling sockets with the same troublesome ground. Finally, he had broke unto the surface, and did not hesitate to drag himself out of the hole. Daniel had spit the cursed dirt down into the hole from his mouth, and had stumbled, as if unused to walking. After gaining his bearings...he merely observed. It was nighttime, and he found himself remembering the night of Jasper's passing. As he did so, a sensation hit him harder than any he'd ever felt. The poison... re-entering his bloodstream to attack his senses, and fill his nose with the burning of death. Desperately, he had cried out, but only the bubbling purple liquid had dripped from his tongue. Daniel took a step forward, and fell onto his knees, gripping at his throat. Again, not again...thoughts came rushing back and memories of recent times joined him. A prison of dirt, a re-awakening, a voice of vengeance, a bitter memory- the poison! Repeated, a cycle that never ended. Was this hell? Was it? Was this punishment for his crime? The taste of dirt on his tongue was familiar now, he remembered it. Time and time and time again like a cruel game of deja vu- why could he not shake that feeling? Every time he broke the surface, it dragged him back, over and over without end. He collapsed on the dirt, tears of purple streaming and staining the ground underneath. He thought of David... his lip upturned in a scowl. This was his doing. The vengeance is stuck within him, even now. That's familiar, too. It's ALL TOO FAMILIAR. THIS KEPT HAPPENING. Would it ever end? As he felt his brief deathless state fade from him, he realized he was dying (AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AN), and he gave in. There was no point to not doing so. Facedown on the ground, with hands limp at his side...he recalled the night that he had first met David; The night was young, back then. It had been young, and new, each passing evening when he was small. The sun would die, willfully lowering into it's own grave and allowing it's sister moon to crawl, risen from death of its own to sit atop the sky like a throne-

[dogfohtaed-blog]

❝ wait, you went out and killed someone? without me? ❞ @rebornbetesearchhistory

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ❝  Yes.  I  could  not  wait  any  longer.  I  am  trying  to  help,  here,  aren’t  you ,  as  well  ??  Did  you  wish  for  me  to  wait  ?? ❞  

[dogfohtaed-blog]

"HELLO OTHER DEADMAN." @rebornbetesearchhistory

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖  another  deadman  stands  before  him,  and  it  causes  him  such  ceremonious  joy  to   see  another  as  awoken  as  he.  he  smiled,  teeth  glittering  against  the  sunlight-  or   the  moonlight.  he  couldn’t  tell  any  longer.❝  Are  you  prepared  for  the  world’s  recycling?  ❞  

[dogfohtaed-blog]

“I told you to leave, but you didn’t. I gave you the chance!”

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖  he  giggled  ,  his  eyes  glowing  brighter  with  each  disgraceful  sound.  the   deadman   doesn’t  flinch  in  the  face  of  a  possible  attack,  instead  he  just   clutches  his  knife.❝  I  want  to  help  you ,  Theo.  Let  me  help  you.  ❞  

[dogfohtaed-blog]

in  need  of  my  help.

The only words she could describe what was happening right now were that she had been sent a demon to bring her to hell or some shit like that - or just perhaps a vivid nightmare or a sort of sick joke.

Except, even if it were some joke, Max - she thought this person was him, at least - he never laughed. He was about as brittle as a goddamn iceberg. This was entirely unlike the camper, and that unsettled her quite a bit.

“Okay, kid, prank cancelled. You got me. I’m thoroughly unnerved. What the fuck is a ‘ deadman ’ ?”

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖  how  funny,  how  innocent  of  her.  to  think  this  a  trick,  to  not  know  the   euphoria  of  a   deadman.  he  steps  closer,  hand  reaching  out  and  clutching  at  her  shirt  much  like   the   small  child   he  was  supposed  to  be.  ❝  How  could  it  be  a  prank...  ??  See  my  mark- ❞    he  pointed  to  the  scratches  adorning  his  face. ❝  Mark  of  a  deadman.  I’m  ready  for  the  world  to  be  recycled...  but  you  aren’t.  I  want  you  help  you  !!  ❞

[dogfohtaed-blog]

Betrayal & Regret Sentence Starters

“I told you not to get too close to me.” “From the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually.” “I wish you never had trusted me.” “I told you to leave, but you didn’t. I gave you the chance!” “We were never friends. I’m so sorry.” “I did something terrible.” “It was inevitable, but I regretted it every step of the way.” “I’m mainly sorry that somewhere along the way, I started to care about you.” “I guess this is a lesson in not trusting people, right?” “How long?…Since the beginning.” “I wish I could just make a wish and become a better person.” “None if it was real, but I wish it was.” “Do you think I liked hurting you?” “I hurt people. It’s all I’m good at.” “I did it because I had to, not because I ever wanted to.” “I -did- care about you, I just had no other choice.” “You should have walked away when you had the chance.” “If we had never met, it would have saved us both some grief.” “I know it hurts, but I’m still glad we had the chance to know each other.” “Hurting you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” “I didn’t want it to be like this, but I had no control!” “I guess I’ve just never been a trustworthy person.” “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to forgive me either.” “So? Aren’t you going to say something?” “If I tell you what I did, we’ll probably never see one another again.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” “Why me? Of all people, why me?” “You planned this all from the beginning?” “I wanted so badly to think you were different.” “How could you lead me along like that?” “None of what we had was ever real, was it?” “So, our friendship didn’t mean anything to you?” “I would have done anything for you, but you’ve ruined all of that.” “All of the things I sacrificed for you didn’t mean a thing?” “I wish I had known when we met that you were such a vile person.” “If I could go back, I would just walk away.” “I forgive you, but I’m not going to forget what you did.” “No. I don’t accept your apology.” “After all your lies, how do I know you mean it when you say you’re sorry?” “I hope you realized what you did was cruel.” “I still care about you.” “Just tell me that your feelings towards me were genuine.” “What on earth is worth betraying someone who loves you?” “If you want to regain my trust, you have to earn it.” “Don’t just say you’re sorry. Show me that you’re sorry.”

[dogfohtaed-blog]

@dcfctive || cont.

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖       the  deadman  lumbers  forward,  his  head  hanging  to  one  side,  with  eyes  glowing  bright  and  mouth  shut  tight  in  an  expressionless  frown.  scratches  burn,  but  the  pain  means  nothing.  it  means  nothing...  iͤͨͯͩ̉̑t͡ ̸̀͊̒ͣͫͤ̚ ắ̡̓̒ͮͭlͬ̋̈́̄l ̏ͦ̐̇̂̽ ̄͠m̒͊̈́̄͞ea̒̐̍ͫn̵̓̓s̈͏ ͬ͐͊ͬͨͧ͗͢ ̋̐̓̃n̡̅ͮͥo̎ͦͪ̊̋t̾͞h̉͋ͩͩi̊̀̎n̎҉g̐̿̇̊̒̐͡.  he  wonders  why  they  were  running.   ❝  Why  are  you  running  from  me,  Theo  ??  I’m  your  brother,  aren’t  I  ??  Don’t  you  want  to  fill  the  vacancy  with  me?  We  can  be  deadmen  together.  We  can  be  Gods.  We  can  be  each  other’s  channeled  musings.  ❞

[dogfohtaed-blog]

TURN ME ON DEADMAN

Speedpaint: https://youtu.be/vAL_PXmIwNM

@cat-blanket

[dogfohtaed-blog]

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖    He  knows.  He  knows.  He  knows.  Stop  it,  stop  it,  stop  it-  let  him  fight  !!  There’s  still  something  left...  is  it  Max?  Is  it  a  long-dead  musing  of  the  devil?  Long-dead  campers?  Are  there  spirits  swimming  around  the  empty  husk?  ARE  THERE  SPIRITS  SWIMMING  AROUND  THE  EMPTY  HUSK???    Twitches  erupt  from  limp  body,  both  eyes  moving  in  discord  with  each  other,  and  his  head  is  unsure  of  what  side  it  wants  to  rest  at.  A  hand  grips  his  cursed  knife  as  the  echoing  is  continued  in  his  head. ❝  I  will  reclaim  my  mind  the  vacancy.  Leave  me  alone,  I’m  still  alive  in  here-   You  don’t  need  to  remind  me  of  all  that  is  truth.  ❞

@dogfohtaed  ♡  this.

“the. earth. is being. RECYCLED. the only chance for–S U R V I V A L–is to stop fighting. stop fighting. stop fighting, max.”

[dogfohtaed-blog]

God:

“it’s gone.”

there’s a dejected quality to his voice as he speaks from his heart. something this strange, this ethereal–it has to be a spirit of some sort, and daniel doesn’t like to trifle with spirits.

and his words are truthful, he decides. that horrible camp has tainted him. he’s meant for greatness, to be someone of importance. he wants his superiors to be proud of him. he wants to be strong, someone who can protect those dear to him. and yet he made a mistake that would have proved fatal if jen and her friends hadn’t made an appearance. that lesser one, the one who’s taken his face… he must be to blame for all of this.

“i was defeated by the lesser one, one who shares my face,” he explains. “he aggravated me, got into my head… i’m ashamed to say i’ve fallen since then. i’ve been redoubling my efforts to attain purity once more.”

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖  The  deadman  might  have  laughed,  were  there  any  chuckles  still  trapped  in  inhuman   chest,  but  instead  he  rises  his  shoulders  and  narrows  his  whitened  eyes  in  a   show  of  amusement.  The  mere  idea  of  any  Daniel  God  being  defeated  by   something  lesser  was  so  very  funny.   So  funny...  so  very,  very  funny.   He  wished  he   could  laugh.  He  meandered  forward,  not  daring  to  reach  up  and  tug  at  the  cloth  of   his  shirt  as  he  wanted  to. ❝  Your  human  form  is  temporary.  You  are  God.  ❞  He  had  figured  out  that  this  was  not  his  Daniel  God.  It  was  a  lost  version  of  him...   and  the  deadman  was  not  one  to  protest  opportunity  to  re-purify,  re-ascend,   recycle...  it  was  all  so  very  simple.  He  couldn’t  understand  why  nobody  got  that. ❝  There  is  no  ‘lesser  one’  than  you.  You  are  God.  The  earth  is  being  recycled,  and  you  have  filled  a  vacancy.  ❞

[dogfohtaed-blog]

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ❝  Don’t  accept  happy  endings.  There  is  no  happy  endings  for  the  living.  Become  a  deadman,  like  me.  ❞

[dogfohtaed-blog]

WXUQ PH RQ GHDGPDQ, WKH GHDWK RI JRG KDV FRPH. VWRS ILJKWLQJ, MRLQ WKH FXOW. MRLQ PB FXOW. NLOO WKH FDPSHUV. BRX NLOOHG WKH FDPSHUV. ZKDW DUH BRX GRLQJ GHDGPDQ? — lit . priv . sel   deadman max

[dogfohtaed-blog]

like/reblog for a starter

[dogfohtaed-blog]

deep apologies for my neglect of this blog. im back, baby!

[dogfohtaed-blog]

WXUQ PH RQ GHDGPDQ, WKH GHDWK RI JRG KDV FRPH. VWRS ILJKWLQJ, MRLQ WKH FXOW. MRLQ PB FXOW. NLOO WKH FDPSHUV. BRX NLOOHG WKH FDPSHUV. ZKDW DUH BRX GRLQJ GHDGPDQ? — lit . priv . sel   deadman max

[dogfohtaed-blog]

WXUQ PH RQ GHDGPDQ, WKH GHDWK RI JRG KDV FRPH. VWRS ILJKWLQJ, MRLQ WKH FXOW. MRLQ PB FXOW. NLOO WKH FDPSHUV. BRX NLOOHG WKH FDPSHUV. ZKDW DUH BRX GRLQJ GHDGPDQ? — lit . priv . sel   deadman max

[dogfohtaed-blog]

@gwem || continued

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ A  smile  might  have  stretched  across  his  cheeks,  provided  his  mouth  was  still  visible.  Instead,  to  convey  his  utter  joy,  he  giggles.  Shoulders  fall  up  and  down  a  few  times  as  the  haunting  sound  resonates  from  him,  eyes  narrowed  in  a  blissful  amusement.  He  takes  a  step  forward,  feet  thumping  rather  dully  on  the  ground  beneath. ❝  What  happened  ??  I  became  happy,  Gwen.  There’s  nothing  wrong  with  being  happy.  Especially  when  you’re  a  deadman,  like  me. ❞