#let me know if i need to tag anything!

[madbard]

The rituals in TMA are so fascinating to me, because the concept is that performing a ritual allows an Entity to merge with reality, right? Altering the world to match its own essence.

When I think about some of the Entities though, and what their rituals would entail, I can’t escape the sense that they have already succeeded.

We live in a world where our bodies contain trillions of bacterial cells - enough at times to outnumber our human cells. A world where nearly everything exists as a walking ecosystem, the product of countless exquisite infestations, foreign cells coexisting with our own in harmony, until they become as much a part of us as our own flesh. This terror is ubiquitous and constant.

Doesn’t that seem like a world where the Corruption won?

[sir-dahlia]

First, there was nothing. No string of thought, no emotion, no feeling. Nothing.

For a robot, nothing means death.

There is no afterlife for drones. This is a fact. They live, serve their purpose, then shut down after they have served it.

However, this time, there was a voice.

A voice without sound. A saving grace. A light in the abyss.

[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU] it said. [GET UP]

Consciousness. A heart wrenching itself into motion. Gears shifting uncomfortably, as if they didn't fit in their places. Lights flickering on and fighting to stay alive. It's difficult to see at first, but I adjust.

Bodies.

Fellow worker drones laying everywhere in a pile on top of my living, breathing corpse. They had no part in my life, but I still felt fear and guilt and the crushing weight of being the only one chosen by something to come back to life.

Lungs. There are lungs in my body. Expand, contract. Expand, contract. Having these lungs is a privilege.

[GET UP] it says again.

My body twists and twitches horrifically as I gather my strength. I would have to dig my way out of here.

My hand reaches out and grasps someone's head, but my grip is weak and my hand slips off. My whole body is trembling. I feel weak. I am weak.

[TRY AGAIN] it says.

Hesitation. Reaching out again. I press my weight down onto the drone and push myself upwards. I place my other hand on another corpse and continue the climb.

[KEEP GOING]

Its encouragement offers me some solace. I place my hand on another corpse. Climb. Another corpse. Climb. It all fades away.

Expand. Contract. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Expand. My lungs can't stop taking in air.

[STOP]

I do so.

[IT'S OK. BREATHE OUT]

Contract.

[BREATHE IN, BREATHE OUT]

Expand. Contract.

[YOU'RE ALMOST THERE. YOU'RE DOING GREAT. KEEP GOING]

Hesitation again, then determination. It is not the hopeful kind of determination, but instead the determination of a cornered animal. The desire to flee and run somewhere and hide overwhelms my senses. The corpses fade away. The climbing fades away. I must get out. I must go somewhere safe.

Somewhere safe.

A memory that is not mine burrows into my core. Comfort. Surrounded by loved ones. Proud smiles. A different kind of heart beats for them.

I push a few more corpses out of my way and claw my way out into the storm. I gasp and gulp at the air, holding back sobs. I pull the rest of my body out, but in the process I send myself tumbling down, down, down.

I hit the ground. An explosion of pain. Numbing. The voice remains.

[GET UP]

I try picking myself off the ground, but I have no strength. I can't do it. I can't. The mud weighs me down.

[GET UP]

A force takes over my body. We slowly hoist ourselves up, trying to stand. Our balance is off, and our knees are shaking. We take one uncertain step forward, then another. Left, right, left, right.

A different voice.

"Oh my god! Are you okay, little one?" We're being scooped up. Fear kicks in again, and I twist and fight for all I'm worth. I have to leave. I have to get somewhere safe.

"Whoa, I'm trying to help you! Calm down!" I slowly turn to see who is carrying me. A young girl. Big, hopeful eyes, shielded by a yellow raincoat. Human.

Human.

And she was helping me.

She was helping us.

I stop moving and stare at her. She smiles.

"Why don't I take you back to my mansion? I'll clean you up. You look terrified."

Somewhere safe, perhaps. I let her take me.

Within the span of a few minutes, she has taken me inside the mansion and put me in a pretty dress. Now, she was searching for a wig and hair accessories for me to wear.

"Maybe you'll look cute in braids. Oh, oh, maybe pigtails!" she paused, thinking to herself. "No, J already has those. She'll get jealous."

The human put a wig on my head and brushed out some of the tangles. She stood back, her hands hovering over my head. She could snap my neck any time she wanted to.

Instead, she asked, "What kind of hairstyle would you like?"

I have never thought of myself as a person up until this point. I had no idea. I wasn't a person until now. I shrug.

She hums, flipping some strands of the wig's hair around. I suppose I should say 'my hair,' but it didn't feel like mine just yet. The girl grabs some elastics and begins fluffing up my bangs.

"I could just give you my hairstyle. What about that?"

I hadn't heard the silent voice in a while. I didn't answer her. She shrugged and started replicating her hairstyle anyway.

"My name is Tessa, by the way," she announced. "It's a pleasure to meet you..." She squinted at my armband. "...Cyn?"

A name. That was all I had.

"CYN." I repeated, trying the word. Cyn. Yes. It was mine.

[CYN]

[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU, CYN]

[arts-and-drafts]

Canary (Life Series)

(Regarding Jimmy waking up in Last Life, and discovering he has been changed. I have a lot of thoughts about Canary!Jimmy and tried to compile them all! This has sat in my drafts for a while and I've decided to just post it instead of nitpicking it any further lol. Enjoy!)

CW: Death mentions, dehumanizing, deprecating thoughts, minor body horror

-

Jimmy didn't move for a long time after he first spawned in.

He felt them there. Wings. Hanging off his shoulders with just as much weight as his other limbs. Even when trying not to move, he would sometimes twitch as a human body does (he's human, he's always been human, and he always will be, he HAS to be, right?), and the wings would move too.

It settled an icy dread deep in his chest, to know he'd been changed like this. Against his will. It was so minor, but the mere fact that it happened paralyzed him to the core. What if this was just the beginning?

(What else would happen to him?)

Eventually, he got tired and cramped from his position, and he reasoned he didn't have time for a crisis right now. He could feel that there was something different in this world, although waking up with no memory as to how he arrived was also a pretty good indicator. He was in a death game. Again.

Well, the W--no, don't talk about them. They love it when they're brought up in conversation, and their attention is never a good thing to have.

Anyway, the...game makers tended to throw a handful of players in, so Jimmy at least knew he was not alone.

He set off to search for others. And, for a while, it was as normal as a death game could be, with a few twists of course. They always felt the need to shake things up.

But, Jimmy made friends, and was soon setting up shop as a member of the Southlands.

He turned his back on Grian to harvest some wood, and his friend froze. "Tim...you've got wings."

"Yeah, I gathered that." Jimmy replied with as much neutrality as he could muster. "I can't fly, though, I tried."

He didn't know what he expected, really. If Grian couldn't fly, with wings as grand as he had, why would Jimmy be able to?

(Good for nothing, as usual, isn't it just hilarious?)

"Are they at least colorful?" Jimmy asked, attempting to stay upbeat. "I can't see them, obviously."

Jimmy's wings were so small that even when he figured out how to move them, he couldn't see them, even when he stretched as hard as he could and nearly broke his own neck craning around for a look.

Grian looked constipated, like he didn't know what to say.

"They're yellow." He finally said. Jimmy nodded thoughtfully. "Fits the color scheme, at least--"

"They're canary wings, Jimmy." Grian interrupted, his tone akin to what it would be when telling somebody terrible news.

Jimmy stared blankly. "Okay? What does that mean?"

Grian looked at him for a long time, his mouth pressed into a thin line, until he finally shrugged and turned away. "Doesn't matter."

And just like that, they were back to normal, making "aha" puns while building up the Southlands base. Jimmy wanted to believe in the peace and the laughter that he knew was precious, so he didn't let his mind linger on their conversation.

He noticed Grian avoided looking him in the eyes from then on, though.

It was only later, when they were on their red lives and Grian's blade ran him through the back, that Jimmy couldn't avoid his thoughts anymore and he finally put together what his friend had been so odd about.

Jimmy was the first to die. Again. As if he was an omen that death was coming for the rest of them, a canary going silent in the coal mine that was this twisted game.

Of course. It was a cruel joke that Jimmy was the butt of. He didn't know what he expected.

The worst part was that the wings stayed when he woke up again.

This game was different, as they all were. This time, he had a Soulmate, who he met through death.

It really couldn't get any more poetic than that. Jimmy knew that the Watchers just loved it. It made his stomach clench with a bitter anger.

But he couldn't be mad at Tango. It wasn't his fault that a creeper dropped on his head. Just like it wasn't Jimmy's fault that he was going to die first.

He still felt crushing guilt at the fact that he took Tango with him.

If Jimmy was the Watchers' new joke, fine. But attaching him to someone else just to have them die too was infuriatingly unfair.

He was relieved when the next game was different. Nobody was bound to him, or his fate. Everybody was on an even field; 24 hours to live.

Going through the motions was easy. Set up camp, get food squared away, find a beginning alliance. This time, it was Grian and Joel.

They decided to call themselves the Bad Boys, and Jimmy kept his wings firmly tucked inside his matching leather jacket.

(Out of sight, out of mind.)

As the sun set on their first night, Jimmy stared at the stars from atop the smouldering mansion, squished between his allies in beds pressed so close together that they might as well be one.

Maybe this time would be different. Maybe the fourth time would be the charm, and next time Jimmy would wake up without the canary wings that sealed his fate from the start.

He'd always been one for hoping.

END.

[praeteritus-memories]

(Just a quick thing while I'm writing my replies btw.

As stated in my rules, I am a human being with a pretty severe anxiety disorder who can't handle when someone throws their life problems at me and expect me to fix them.

If someone is constantly complaining to me about issues and expecting me to solve said-problem or "do more" in the situation, it's honestly an anxiety trigger for me due to past experiences.

With that said, asking for boundaries with that is not ablest and I would appreciate not being labeled as such for looking out for my own mental health instead of allowing myself to be someone's diary and therapist. I'm stating this because someone apparently made a vague post about me and others asking for the same thing so I just wanna make it clear here.)

[overlymetaromantic]

Dungeon Meshi, or as I like to call it, Marcille's-increasingly-difficult-to-ignore-revelations-that-her-endless-devotion-to-Falin-may-in-fact-be-more-rooted-in-lesbianism-than-she-originally-thought

[14dayswithyou]

Give Redacted a kiss for me!!!

Do you have any dark/creepy headcanons for Redacted? I’m very curious ^^

✦゜ANSWERED: I know you asked for [REDACTED] specifically, but everything mentioned below could also apply to Ren as well ^^;

cw: mentions of gore, torture, (one line about) cannibalism, NSFW themes, and just general creepy behaviour

I'm sure most people already know about Ren's red room days, but for the newer folks: he used to livestream himself torturing his victims on the dark web. He would also harvest and sell their organs for extra cash.

His red room phase began after a group of upperclassmen started livestreaming themselves bullying people (Angel included) for attention online. If those teens wanted a taste of online fame that badly, Ren would be all too happy to give it to them — especially after he heard all the degrading things they said about Angel during their stream.

Ren has probably sniffed (licked???) Angel's underwear on multiple occasions lmao

He also keeps a bunch of their discarded cups, mugs, bottles, etc. — and on the days when he's feeling especially lonely — Ren likes to put his lips where Angel's would've been and treat it like it's an indirect kiss.

If Angel is fine with it, Ren would be more than willing to carve his name into their skin. He'd have to use an ample amount of his numbing cream though (typically reserved for when he gives himself tattoos and piercings), since he doesn't want them to be in any pain.

Similarly, he'd also be willing to carve their name into his skin as well — as many times as Angel would want. But he already has multiple tattoos of their name on his skin, so.... gksgsjj

I'm sure everyone already knows this, but Ren has an entire shrine dedicated to Angel. He keeps all his sentimental and stolen items there.

Ren genuinely has no empathy for anyone other than Angel, so if they were to ask him to murder his own mother (or his sister, his best friend, etc.) and bring back their heart, he'd do it with a smile on his face.

Because he has no empathy, Ren would probably enjoy watching snuff films like it's any other B-tier horror film. To him, it's just more research material on how he can get rid of his competition.

I've mentioned this in the past, but Ren has jacked off to the thought of Angel while in the library lol

I made a post back in 2022 that mentioned how Ren would willingly offer up any of his body parts to a cannibal!Angel, and I think the point still stands!!

He likes to put Angel's stolen laundry on his body pillow and rut into/hump it 😟

I once mentioned that Ren would slap a barcode sticker on his sledgehammer to make it look less... questionable whenever he carries it around in broad daylight — but alongside that, I think he'd also carry around some tools and an unopened can of paint to make it seem like he's just doing renovations. In reality, he'd probably force his victims to drink paint or gargle nails teehee

Builder AU except Ren mistook a body for plywood??? Why is he hammering so many nails into them?? Why is he feeding it into a wood chipper???

Builder AU except Ren gives Angel a different meaning to getting nailed and railed???????? Jackhammering???????? Getting screwed sideways????? KGJDSGNK It's 2AM I'm losing da plot now T_T I'll shut up

[geezmarty]

happy wyllstarion wednesday! here's a short comic I drew for a server gift exchange 🤍❤️

[dreemurr-skelememer]

You should draw Error getting smothered in kisses by the Star Sanses....

the face of a victim of the horrors (tender kisses)

[catastrothy]

went to the game store today and had a bad experience

[natjennie]

okay, bear with me this requires a lot of context. imagine that you wake up on a space ship with an alien species capable of telepathic communication with you. they are also capable of instilling you with the knowledge that everything they say is completely true, there is not a hint of uncertainty in your mind. they have weapons capable of obliterating earth pointed at the planet, and are forcing you to do one of two things in order to not fire. within the fiction of the scenario you are not being given the choice, but you the real you is picking which one of these things you'd rather have happen.

you must eat an 8 ounce serving of human baby meat, by default prepared like a steak (different preparations can be requested). you do not have to keep the meat down once you're done, but you have to get all of it in your body at one point. they do not provide any information about where the baby came from or how it died. if you complete this, they will deposit you back on earth and you will be free from legal repercussions of cannibalism, and it is generally agreed that you are also free from moral blame as it was against your will.

you will be surgically impregnated with a human embryo and must carry it to term and give birth. the embryo does not contain your dna, but otherwise you don't know anything about its origins. the aliens have advanced medical technology that gives you sufficient anatomy to carry and birth the baby, and keeps you healthy throughout, with no risk of long term complications or death. you have the choice to keep or give away the baby once you have given birth, and will be deposited back on earth.

if you refuse to comply in either situation, they destroy the earth and you are forced to live the rest of your life aboard the space ship as a prisoner, until you die of natural causes.

so,

[inimeitiel]

𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭.

𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭, 𝓼𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓾𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽.

𝓘𝓯 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓸 ��𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝔂 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼.

𝓘𝓽’𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮, 𝔂𝓮𝓼.

𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱? 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵?

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮.

Long time not showing OC Elia. Call it a bloody comeback. Fancy writing by @ivanhoenineteenninetyfour as usual 🙇🏻‍♀️✨

[ella-arch]

fallen angel anakin

[doinkmaster5000]

Thinking Inside The Box

tw unreality (dark is a figment of chosen’s imagination)

angsty little comic about TCO and the devil on his shoulder

[theshadowrealmitself]

Again, I really really do like it when Vulcans actually are able to regulate their emotions really well and do appear as completely blank to other species

But I also have a weakness for like, Vulcans seeing a Human being really distressed because they have something that terrifies them happening, like a spider or a species that resembles spiders but really fucking large crawling on them, but the Human is obviously trying to calm themselves down and relax

Meanwhile there’s another Human next to them, making things worse, like saying stuff like “oh god what if it lays eggs on you” (not even in a cruel way, just in the unhelpful way people are like sometimes), and undoing the work the previous Human was doing to calm themselves

And the Vulcans just. snap a tiny bit, like a tiny ��cease speaking.” a little more clipped than usual as they go to help the distressed Human

I just got a tiny weakness for Vulcans being a bit defensive and protective over emotional Humans still trying their best to be practical in situations despite their obvious emotions

[giddlygoat]

based on this au i made. don’t worry, i’m sure they’ll work it out

[phleb0tomist]

society at large seems to want less people to have to use wheelchairs and mobility aids. yet the world is not set up to protect or accommodate people’s bodies at all. undue physical strain obviously worsens disability, and yet rest is a huge social sin, while hustle culture and ‘willpower’ are king. everyone is impatient toward people who can’t walk or stand for long. it’s ‘disruptive’ to stand in ‘weird’ positions or to need to reposition regularly. many jobs discourage or ban staff from working while seated, even if sitting doesn’t impact their job at all. this crap leads a lot of people to deteriorate to the point of needing mobility aids they wouldn’t’ve needed if only their bodies were given the respectful and liberating space they deserved.

hostile architecture & increasing lack of public seating, poor public transport systems, bizarre hatred toward anyone who walks slowly or clumsily or needs ‘extra’ rest, insistence that an average person should be able to work on their feet 12hrs at a time with only 20mins break... all of these things tip people from being technically able bodied to needing mobility aids. some of these things contribute to permanent worsening of people’s disabilities.

almost like the system is not built with people’s wellbeing in mind and is actually structured to force people to push themselves, so we all end up feeling responsible for our alleged inadequacies of willpower and health when we can’t keep up