#death implied

[quietlywatchingwritingreading]

As a bit of a psa I thought i'd share some things i've seen going around relating tot he current horrible disaster.

-Everyone is using the Titanic tag for this tragedy, but the tragedy has nothing to do with the titanic itself.

The company is called Oceangate, and the submarine is called the Titan.

I just figured i'd spread that around in case more people wanted to tag those things. Right now tumblr is thinking the titanic film is trending, without really indicating that this is because of a tragedy in the making and not something like a film reboot.

-I've seen a lot of posts celebrating the submarine's disappearance and the fate of those aboard. . This is a bad thing. These are real people who are suffering though some of the worst horrors imaginable, and I wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemy. We should at least have some respect for them as people.

Like, there's a 19 year old on that submarine. Could you imagine their friends? Imagine learning there's a good chance you'll never see your friend again, and then seeing a bunch of posts celebrating the submarine's disappearance?

That is disgusting.

(Yes, billionaires are bad. There's certainly a discussion to be made about the ethics of Adventure Tourism, and the lives that are risked in that industry. However much like the titanic, not all the victims here are the Elite and Wealthy. )

-Theres a lot of jokes about the way the ship is built/constructed. and that is a interesting horror show in and of itself. Like the entire thing feels like something i'd read about in a horror parody about the dangers of greed.

That said, I wanted to note that controlling a ship via a video game controller isn't actually that unusual/strange. It's the fact that they used a third party controller known for having unreliable bluetooth and frequently breaking, that's the problem. It kinda implies the company was potentially cutting corners, or at least gives that sort of bad look.

[rorotoru]

2023.08.25

The only one who didn't learn the lesson.

[chaotic-orphan]

Noble Consequences

“You see now?” Villain yelled across the street, a building levelled behind them. Smoke and dust partially obscuring them from moment to fleeting moment. They were panting, twin trails of blood making lines down one side of their face. They stepped forward, or more, limped forward, their usually pristine coat in tatters.

Superhero watched them move, only very distantly aware of the sirens in the distance and the chaos on the street. Unlike Villain they were frozen in place, looking at the place behind Villain, at the rubble, at— at Hero’s apartment block. Their mind couldn’t comprehend that fact. It wouldn’t let them, certain that their brain would crumble as quickly as the bricks and foundation of the apartment block did. Destroyed right in front of their eyes.

“You can’t save them,” Villain screamed, still hobbling over to Superhero’s statue-like form. “They don’t care about you, or me, or anybody or anything!”

Superhero’s mouth opened, as if to reply, but any words escaped them. Surely… surely Hero wasn’t home at the time, surely… they were alright. Somewhere else. Far from here, having coffee or dinner or something. Something normal, living people did.

Villain was in front of Superhero, grabbing their shirt in both hands and shaking them. “Supervillain is a monster,” Villain howled, voice broken and filled with heartache and fury and pain. Superhero’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, struggling to work properly. “Look at what your kindness did! Look at where your second chances got us! Hero is dead because of you.”

“No,” Superhero mumbled, the words clogging their throat as they shook their head. “No… no, no, no, no. Hero is… Hero’s not—”

“We have to kill them, Superhero.”

Superhero tore their gaze from the rubble to Villain in front of them. “W—what?”

“We have to kill Supervillain, or they won’t stop.”

Superhero bristled, putting a hand over Villain’s and pulling them off, stepping back and their legs buckled and hit the floor. “No… no, no. No, no,” Superhero repeated, like a fucking tape stuck on loop.

Villain dropped to their knees with Superhero, supporting them as they fell. Thick wet tears rolled quickly down Superhero’s face as the first firetruck pulled up onto the scene.

Villain grabbed Superhero’s face, tilting it to face Villain again. “We have to kill them, Superhero. Promise me.”

Superhero didn’t respond.

Villain shook their head again and screamed in a guttural, heartbroken voice: “promise me you won’t stand in my way. For Hero… they…”

A sob ripped from Villain’s throat cut them off and once they started, Villain couldn’t get them to stop. Their grip on Superhero loosened as they fell forwards, loud, pained cries of agony wracking their body as they wept.

Superhero wrapped their arms around Villain and let them cry on their shoulder, holding them tightly, like Hero would’ve if they—

Superhero blinked, and sniffed and said: “okay, Villain. We do it your way.”

[askfallenroyalty]

Today's update be like

[wreckrinho]

I've been watching a lot of Steven Universe recently.

Gumball doesn't feel alive And his body is slowly looking more and more like a corpse

[ominous-feychild]

✦ OC In Three 8 ✦

GUESS WHAT WE'RE BACK TO JUST BECAUSE I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF MAKING AESTHETIC BOARDS FOR MY CHARACTERS???

(And maybe I kinda sorta already made these for an unrelated thing and thought I could/should just go ahead and make another one of these with it, haha.)

Today we've got more of the Arcane Rifts's characters! They're all major characters within the story, but not main ones, haha. Except maybe/probably Nikolai? I'm not sure about him tbh. He's either major or main.

NIKOLAI BORISYUK

OSKA ISAKOVICH

RIEKA

LIESEL

Uh oh! Good Cop Nikolai's gotten caught in the middle of a bunch of members of the khonitva! What is he going to do???

More seriously, haha, I absolutely love these guys' vibes! I'm not sure when I'll release the post with these things but I wanted to share their little moodboards, so here we are!

Since I've gotten into the habit of talking about the characters for these things, how about I give you guys some quick summaries on these guys' characters?

Nikolai is Kavo's chief of police, and is widely liked by the general population despite their overwhelming distrust of Kavo's government! He's a vykolt (ice mage), an extremely competent fighter, and generally a charming guy! I love him.

Oska is the leader of the khonitva (the main gang plaguing the town of Kavo at the time of the story)! He's been in it since its earliest days, before the dismantling of the pugabiytsy, and only became the leader after the death of his brother 5 years before the story takes place. As the images (hopefully) imply, he's an ominous figure who plays chess! Wait, no. (*checks notes*) Looks like he's just a chessmaster-planner type!

Rieka is the khonitva's healer! She has blood magic which she's able to use both to heal (duh) and offensively! Like the MC Tazin, she appears to be Jhandan and faces discrimination for it--especially within the khonitva itself. Luckily for her, Oska doesn't seem to care about that! (Anymore.) While a sympathetic character, Rieka is also a beast--she'd be able to easily beat every single one of the other thus-far named characters in a fight (except for Nikolai) and yet... doesn't? Instead sits around letting the khonitva mistreat her??? Wonder what her deal is. 👀 (I also love her. Almost as much as I wouldn't approach her with a 10-foot-pole!)

Liesel is unofficially (but widely-accepted as) the second-in-command of the khonitva. She's been been working for them almost since the beginning and is even preferred to Oska by most of the gang. Except... problem. Nobody knows who she is. Again--she's been in the khonitva since its early days, and yet the entire time she's been there she's always been masked. Wears a fabric mask over the bottom half of her face and a domino mask over her eyes, together hiding all recognizable features of her face and separately protecting from a situation where one is removed. Why in the world would she be in the khonitva for so long, and yet still be so paranoid about her true identity being found out?

OC In Threes: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Part 6 | Part 6.5 | Part 7 | Part 8

Tagging list (no pressure!): @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @paeliae-occasionally @aalinaaaaaa @48lexr @huewrite + open tags!

Divider by @saradika

[benjamin-maybe]

Rot (Written: 10/31/2023)

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎?

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢,

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊����𝚐𝚎,

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚘 𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝,

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎,

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎,

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎?

[dagothurbignaturals]

Once grief enters your life it never leaves

[dirtylittlemuffin]

Day 27. Blender

hehe

cya for day 28

[qtubbo]

Pepito’s just a baby just a baby I tell you, you can’t do this to a little pepito 😧

[enemylv1]

Kirbtober day 17 - knight

So I have the hc that the fake form of void termina is an imitation of one of the heroes of Yore

Better contrast version ↓

[mtgc858]

Another game I'm obsessed with is HOME SAFETY HOTLINE-

Legit I love it!

So drew the most scariest bits to me and explaining why!

The Mirror Nimth(Spelled it wrong) is by far the worst monster to exist(not really lol) but the concept of it stealing your face and you going insane is horrible especially compared to the guy who lost his wife's face with the other type.

The scariest (The horror kicks in with context) is definitely the Puka

Especially MeatBall the dog that Rachel had.

The fact she smelled something horrible and noticed it had been bothering her dog made her call the Hotline BUT it was actually her dog's body that the Puka killed and replace 💔

Super scare stuff!

And last but not least is the scariest (If you failed the clients) Is definitely MAY

LEGIT I the Voice actress legit did a amazing job! What scares me is the fact that anything with a person losing there child is horrible and gets me so hearing her screaming was horrible legit and I feel bad 💔

[insanelyadd]

31 Doodles Of Halloween Year 10 | Day 3 | Death Of A Doll Maker

OOOH! I am so excited to share this one. It's a redraw (an actual redraw this time) of one of my favorite pictures I've ever made, which is based on a song by my favorite band, Creature Feature. This song is an instrumental, so everything in this image is based solely on the title.

Original:

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Mandela Prophet AU: Buried Memories

Adam has another nightmare. A nightmare about events he wished he had forgotten about.

TW: Body horror mentions, blood/gore, death implied

Notes: Around 1300 words, so. pretty damn short compared to my other fics. Got this idea randomly and thought it would be funny to write a little something so. yeah! this thing!!!

-----

 5:23 AM

           Adam was lying on his side, his body barely covered by the blankets draped over him as he was spread across his twin bed. He silently slept, his eyelids twitching slightly as his body shifted around on the mattress. He could barely get comfortable; despite how many times he fluffed his pillows or put more blankets on, he felt uncomfortable in his own skin on a good day and feeling like everything hurt at worse. However, the discomfort was minimal, meaning that when Adam heard his bedroom door creak open, his attention would snap to it instead of the internal unrest he felt.

           Adam’s eyelids flicked open, glancing around the dark bedroom before he looked towards the door, seeing a figure duck out of the way, into the hallway. Adam’s breath hitched as he sat up in bed, throwing the blankets off of him and staring into the oddly pitch black hallway. He swallowed hard, his clammy hand grasping the front of his white T-shirt as if it would give him any comfort. He shifted, planting his bare feet onto the carpet before standing up, his eyes staring into the inky blackness in complete silence. Maybe it was Sarah; getting a midnight snack or something, and Adam was getting restless for nothing. Either way, Adam found himself approaching the door slowly, noticing that the parasite in his chest was oddly calm despite his increasing heart rate.

           Adam walked out into the hallway, looking to his right to see Sarah’s bedroom door, noticing that it was closed. He could hear faint snoring from the other side of the wood, his brows furrowing when he realized Sarah was still asleep.

           “Adam.”

           Adam felt a chill run up his spine as he turned towards the other side of the hallway, two white dots where his pupils were reflecting through the darkness. He saw a figure quickly disappear into the darkness, with no light coming into the hallway aside from the moonlight from Adam’s bedroom, as if the hallway went on forever into the blackness of the void. Adam glanced back at Sarah’s bedroom door all before turning back and taking in a deep breath, walking into the darkness, after the voice he heard just out of sight.

           “Adam.”

           The hallway went on longer than Adam knew it should have. Every time he thought he reached the end, it only stretched further and further. The carpet beneath his feet turned into cold concrete, with a thin layer of water on top of it. The temperature dropped with every step forward, soon feeling as if Adam would freeze within a matter of seconds. Adam could see his lukewarm breath cloud in front of his face, though despite the cool air, he didn’t shiver or even acknowledge it. He was too focused on the voices he heard in the distance.

           “But Adam, if you walk down those stairs, you’d be joining her…” A familiar voice spoke, making Adam’s heart sink. Adam wanted to speak back, but his words were stuck in his throat, unable to be choked out. Adam shook his head, turning back to retreat into his bedroom before he was stopped. He looked forward, his breath becoming heavier when all he saw was a wall in front of him.

           “And if by some miracle you come back out, I don’t think you’d be yourself.”

           Adam turned back around towards the voice to see a door, stained near the bottom with a red substance Adam didn’t even want to think about. Adam’s mind was going too fast for him to even start to question what was going on before he reached towards the doorknob, jerking his hand back as soon as he felt the ice cold metal on his fingertips. He took in a shaky breath before grasping the handle and pushing the door open.

           Cold winter air and snowflakes hit his face as soon as the door opened fully, Adam’s tired eyes widening at the sight in front of him. He stepped outside, his bare feet hitting the snow cloaking the ground of the field, leaving footprints behind. Adam looked around, seeing that the doorway led into the field in between Bythorne and Mandela, seemingly attached to no building or hall. Adam’s heart filled with dread as he walked forward, seeing all too familiar sights.

Adam’s eyes fixated on the car sitting on the side of the road, its doors open and the right blinker flicking on and off. He looked into the vehicle, seeing blood staining the dashboard and splattered against the windshield. He turned towards the road in front of the car, seeing the puddle of blood freezing onto the asphalt. He stared at it, feeling a slight twitch come from his chest before he heard the voice again.

“Adam.”

Adam walked around the car, staring into the field before freezing, though not due to the cold. His arms dropped to his sides as he stared into the dark field, his eyes dilating to see further. Standing in the middle of the field was a man, standing with his arms straight down, his pose stiff and odd, like a mannequin. He was wearing a white sweatshirt underneath a black leather jacket, along with blue jeans and snow-covered red high-tops. However, through his teary eyes, Adam could see that his clothes were covered in snow, freezing the blood running down from the stump where his head would have been.

“Jonah?” Adam choked, feeling a pressure in his chest, not from the parasite that called his body its home, but the overwhelming dread building within his very soul. Jonah didn’t respond, standing as still as a statue, thick coagulated blood dripping onto the pure white snow below his feet. Adam stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet before swinging his body towards the doorway, only to see that it was no longer there. Adam’s breathing picked up speed as he looked back at the car, letting out a yelp when he saw Jonah’s headless body standing in the beams of the headlights. Adam couldn’t look away from Jonah’s body before he glanced towards the other side of the field, eyes widening when he saw a bird-shaped shadow rapidly flying across the ground. Adam shook his head, ignoring the tears streaming down his face as he turned the other way and ran.

           He sprinted into the forest by the field, ignoring the intense feeling that something was directly behind him. He felt a pressure building in his chest as he ran, ignoring the burning he felt inside and the inhuman laughing he heard from above the trees. The branches of the trees bent like arms, creaking and cracking on both sides as Adam ran through the thick forest. He kept stumbling over his feet, pressing his arm against his stomach and grimacing as he felt the shifting of half-formed limbs inside of him. He was sobbing; all before he fell to his knees, unable to keep moving as the pain inside of him became unbearable.

           He turned onto his back, staring up into the inky blackness of the night sky before he saw something come into view; Jonah, staring down at him as his cold blood dripped onto Adam’s chest. Adam’s mouth hung open, feeling mandibles scratching at his inner cheeks as he spoke. “I-I’m sorry.” He squeaked through the tears, the pain, and the overbearing guilt. “Jonah…I’m s-sorry.” Adam’s bloodshot eyes gazed at Jonah as his body shook, all before he shut his eyes tight, hoping it would all end.

           Until he found himself on the living room floor.

           Adam awoke drenched in sweat, no longer feeling the bitter cold of winter nor the cold blood dripping on his chest. He felt the burning in his chest continue and the parasite press against his back as he laid on the floor hyperventilating. Adam could feel it; it was wanting out at that very moment, skipping over the five minutes of agony and getting to the point. As his ribs shifted and the parasite clawed at his back, he turned onto his stomach, sobbing as he realized he had no time to warn Sarah.

He just hoped him screaming in agony would be enough of a warning for her.

[askfallenroyalty]

[balladetto]

     Once, when Link was even smaller than he feels, he'd knocked his shoulder out of its socket in a terrible fall.

     Terrible in that he'd cried about it, ashamed and at the then-height of pained, not that it was a particularly horrific tumble. He'd just landed wrong, he remembers someone telling him — frantic and almost apologetic in their reassurance. Too much has happened for him to reconstruct a face for the memory, but Link can still recall the stutter in their words. You're g-gonna be okay. Y-you're gonna— gonna be f-fine.

     And he was. Someone had gone to fetch a healing fairy while others came to keep him company. It'd been the right shoulder, burning at the joint and numb all the way down to his fingertips, but he'd found a spot of hurt he could grit his teeth through; then breathe through; then eventually speak through. By the time the fairy was brought over, Link had been so deep in the rhythm of holding himself together that he'd nearly slapped her away when she broke it.

     He remembers her, he thinks, the most out of everything. There's a distinct clarity associated pain will give you with any recollection. She was rose-pink, a little darker than he was used to, and she'd bristled when he whimpered through a fresh wave of tears and pushed at her with his pinky.

     "Stop that," she'd said. "Bones aren't easy, you know. It'll only hurt for a pinch, it has to for me to fix it. You're already being so brave! Can't you be brave a while longer?"

     Outside the memory, Link lays crumpled on cold tiles, eyelids like crushed butterfly wings and the cave of his chest barely moving as he looks up and up and up. He thinly wonders, for a fixing like this, how long he'd have to keep being brave for.

     Neither of his shoulders took the landing this time, but he knows many things are wrong with both of them. By extension, many things are wrong with all of him. He should take stock, a part of him understands. He'd like to take stock, another part realises, if only he had the capacity to. Each breath shifts the slivers and splinters his bones have shattered into. Agony twists through every vein like a replacement for the blood he imagines paints his trail from platform to windows to the far below floor. He can't feel his fingers, which twitch as if to grip something — his left hand, mangled, rests as if in graveyard dirt.

     There is no amount of searching in this sea that will land him in a place where this might be bearable.

     "Link!" Navi yells, a trilling bell that drowns out the sound of dying. His heart threads an extra thump, like he still has it in him to be scared alongside everything else, before it fades back into a whisper of a pulse. She wheels above him in panicked, powdery circuits: hair to boots and back. "Get up! You have to get up!"

     He does. He does have to. Link doesn't get to think he's gonna die now. He doesn't get to be tired enough — small enough — for that. He draws a rattling inhale, head practically cracking open with how the air presses against its seams. He's sixteen. The world will end if he's nine. He's sixteen, sixteen, sixteen.

     He chokes on liquid rising in his gorge, coughs it up, and closes his eyes when gravity brings the blood down in blotches on his skin. It's— really gross, and that's such a mundane thought in the face of what he has to reckon with that his chest starts spasming with strangled laughter instead.

     "Link!"

     Navi, he replies in his head, 'cause that's all he can do. He traces over more names: Sheik, Zelda, Saria, the Sages, the Kokiri, the list goes on as his voice dips into hitching, searing gasps. It's an awful thing to realise — that's all he can do. Link has to get up, has to be Courage, has to be more than what he is.

     And he can't.

     Sound drifts down from above, mocking. Cruel. It's a laugh getting louder and louder, and Link prises his lashes apart with the sheer will borne from a unique dread. A kind of fear, if you felt it not in sensation, but in the dizzying spiral that is the certainty of where this will all end.

     A kind of fear — and a kind of fury.

     Link is nine, thrown to the ground, battered and muscles stinging with a magic he tastes as something crackling on his tongue. He glares up at the tall man on the tall horse, smouldering so brazenly with protective, frustrated outrage that he shakes with it. He is not unafraid of the sneer that answers him, but he does not look away.

     Link is nine, broken over the ground, near dead and stuck in a body he's tried to make his. His eyes are cold as he watches Ganondorf descend, burning with tears dyed red from failure. The brand on his left hand glows, resonating with a magic he no longer has the nerves to feel. Navi doesn't leave. There are a thousand things he wishes he could scream.

     Large fingers fold around the wrist of his gauntlet, deliberate in their ignorance of the softness a joint that bent must be afforded. As his arm is lifted, the pain dragged along every passing second like some horrible, continuous song-note that eclipses even his fears, he pretends none of the noises coming from him are his and thinks everything that could mean: I hate you.

     He thinks everything that could mean: I'm so sorry.

     The man raises his other hand, palm closing in, and Link forces another entire earth on the child he can't be even here — even now. He does not look away. Navi, oddly muffled, rings something wordless.

     Link waits for the end of this story.