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unsureofu · 25 days

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“I don’t want to live forever”

Stop. Stop right there. I do. I never ever ever ever want to lose my ability to feel and see and be. Never ever ever. I truly want to live forever and I want everyone I love to live forever. I don’t even think I like living all that much but I think being dead would be so much worse.

#yes this is motivated by fear #terrified of dying #and constantly in fear of the shock you feel when the grief begins again #I don’t even like life but I think I’d hate being dead #I am so a bitch that would freeze my body in hopes of coming back to life #p

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lazy30 · 1 month

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Dream smp hanahaki disease au (?) because c!dream love and care about his server so much, about the place, memory, people, and friends in it but the server (people in it) doesn’t love him back…

#my art #it’s this hanahaki concept make sense?#well it’s au after all #idk what to call this au or will expand it bu we see #c!dream doesn’t want to have surgery because if he do it then he can’t love and care about his own server #it’s terrify him more than dying #so he suffering everyday yayyy >:D #c!dream #dream fanart #dsmp #dsmp au #dream smp #Tödliche Weltliebe AU

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tangledinink · 8 months

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So, I understand this may be a stylistic choice, but as the unofficial coloring person for your comic, something in your recent swannie update.... concerns me

His eyes are SO dull. All of his line art is dull. Especially when in comparison with leo....

And you keep making magical girl jokes...

Is this like... a madoka magika situation?

Is he too far away from his soul?

He looks like he's barely.... there. He's normally at least responcive... he.... hes not there.... he's not.... present... I feel like there isn't anything there. No soul, no magic... just running on muscle memory and whatever magic remains in his body.

of course, his family is aware that, currently, donnie is physically separated from his soul, and that that's probably not good. but they're also aware that donnie was beat to hell and back and just barely skated through by the skin of his teeth-- and that the lake literally drains his life force out of his body.

swanatello. ->

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frogseasons · 2 years

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theres something so incredibly painful and meaningful about nona deciding to live just because a dog is in the truck. just noodle, this weird little six-legged dog that nona only knew for a handful of months in her already short life that she loved so deeply. tazmuir goes to painstaking extents to illustrate all the horrible things that come as a result of love (paul, jod’s backstory, pyrrha/g1deon/wake, ianthe and corona, gideon and harrow, etc) but this little, pivotal moment illustrates the beauties of it. nona is all about love, she loves without reason, she loves her little life and her little family and her school and her friends and noodle. noodle, who is just a dog, who can’t speak or express his love like humans do, but shows it nonetheless. because noodle is a dog, and dogs love without reason, just like nona (just like the earth). when everything and everyone that nona loves is falling apart, when she’s lost in all those horrors of love and chaos and destruction and her brain is breaking down and she’s losing what it means to Be Nona, noodle is still there, loving her regardless. and because she’s still nona, she loves him back. and she lives for love, even for just a few minutes longer. for a dirty little six-legged dog that wasn’t even hers, because she can’t let what she loves die if she has the choice (the power, for once). it’s beautiful and heartbreaking and the last decision she ever made was to live with her horrible, painful existence so that a dog (who couldn’t choose) wouldn’t die.

#g txt #tlt #the locked tomb #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #GOD…. god……..#ntn just spends its whole time showing how drastically different nona and jods love is #like… jod loved to the point of destruction but nona loved to the point of existence #when everything was tumbling down around them jod watched his friends die without remorse and used them to kill the earth #he killed all he loved and wiped clean the slate #but nona sees everything she loves dying and changing and wants to go too. but she stays.#because who is she if not someone who loves and wants to be loved #she’s terrified of not remembering that love. but jod erases the memory of love for the sake of his own ease #nona lives with pain for love. and jod kills everything he loves and gives no choice in it.#those tags arent worded exactly right BUT U GET MY POINT YEAH.#g

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midnight-moth · 7 months

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What if. …

Phantom listens, and eventually peeks his head around the corner to watch. Cirrus and Cumulus seated together on the creaky velvet bench in front of the upright piano, playing together.

He loves the sound. All of the keyboards and synthesizers are cool. But this is different, it feels organic, vibration, air and space. Something about it feels like his own magic and he doesn’t know why.

And even though he knows the keys are made of something hard, they look soft to the touch. And he wants to touch them.

He rounds the corner and sees the vacant bench and decides to chance it. Lifts the lid and hits a single key. Rationally, he should anticipate the sound, but it makes him jump nonetheless.

He tries to apply what he knows to produce a chord. But it’s all a little bit confusing. Unfamiliar in a way. His fingers try to find the right places on their own but thankfully there’s two ghoulettes watching him from the doorway who are willing to help.

They speak and he jumps again and apologizes. Of course they tell him there’s nothing to apologize for. They offer to teach him and he accepts. They make him a notebook that has alternates sheets of staff and lined pages.

They litter the pages with little notes of encouragement or tips, written in colourful gel ink. They plaster the sheets with stickers. Soon he learns he prefers minor scales because they sounds a little sad but very pretty. And he loves the damper pedal because it makes the notes linger in his ears long after he’s struck the keys.

He has an end game. He didn’t at first. But now he can’t wait to show Dew what he can do. For him to lead Dew to the bench and play for him. Because he isn’t quite sure he could ever impress Dew with a guitar. That maybe, Dew would focus on the sound rather than his technique.

Maybe it’s embarrassing, how eager he is to please. But just once he wants Dew to be the one watching in awe as his hands move. To feel just a little of what Phantom feels when he watches Dew play.

#he would most definitely compose his own piece #he would absolutely be terrified and insecure #it would take 43 pep talks from both cirrus and cumulus before he’d be ready #Dew would of course be floored when cirrus inevitably blabs that phantom not only wrote the piece he played #but that he wrote it for Dew specifically #Dew buys him some super fancy heavy weight leather bound staff as a thank you #now Dew waits for him on the bench at the same time every week #leans on phantoms shoulder and wraps his tail around his waist and closes his eyes #no one ever interrupts of course but Dew eventually tells him that everyone is dying to hear #he’s known that for a while but he wanted this all for himself for a while #I hate sundays so much and I am thinking of 8000 timelines and stories to distract myself #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #midnight moth writes

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e-mptyflowerfields · 5 months

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I’d crawl into his ribcage if he let me, like Leonardo DiCaprio in The Revenant, I’d curl up in him like he was a dead horse and I was desperate for warmth

#cannibalism as a metaphor for love #cannibal aesthetic #the revenant #brutal winter #ethel cain #ethel cain aesthetic #rural aesthetic #southern gothic #rural gothic #regional gothic #southern goth aesthetic #poetry #modern poetry #love poem #i love him #there’s nothing more terrifying than dying cold and alone

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hwestil · 13 days

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I find it heartbreaking how Ishmael tries to distance himself from Queequeg dying: Queequeg calls someone to his deathbed to hold his hand and to express his final wishes to, he tells someone "to go to his bag and bring out his little god, Yojo," Ishmael says what "you" can see if you look at Queequeg instead of what he saw himself and dissolves himself among "every one" who is sad and "some" who are delighted when Queequeg rallies—until he's truly well and strong, and then Ishmael calls him "my Queequeg" again like he has in the past and like he did at the start of the chapter.

#whale weekly #just my take of course #plausible deniability that Queequeg had other people do those things but who would he pick besides Ishmael #i've also been terrified by this chapter for months and months since i thought Queequeg would actually be dying in it #Herman Melville pulled a fast one

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graceofagodswrath · 2 years

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Humans Are Feral: Part 2

Wow, I did not expect that last post to be received so well, and so fast. Thanks so much to all those who left awesome comments, reblogs and notes. And since it was received so well, I decided to go ahead and write the part two I’ve been thinking about since part one.

So, humans can vicious and absolutely feral at times. Our society often criticizes such behavior, referring to it as “acting like an animal.” And don’t get me started on how humans love to make themselves seem important by separating ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom whether from religious belief or simple egotism. But our animal instincts are still a part of us, even though they have been suppressed through hundreds of years of societal evolution. The biggest example of these primal instincts is the fight or flight response. This is one we commonly experience in day to day situations, however small they may seem. From situations like: being in a crowded room and feeling the urge to run because of overwhelming social anxiety. Or being at the in-laws and they make a rude comment, and you just want to snap back or run out of the house. But you suppress those feelings in order to appear “civilized/normal.” Just some tidbits on human psychology I think about a lot.

But that thing that I mostly think about is how we react in extremely stressful and dangerous situations. One’s in which we perceive are life-threatening. I have been put in a situation where I was nearly fighting for my life, and I remember the wildness I felt. There were no verbal thoughts in my head, nothing I remember being normal. All I could feel was this kind of fear-rage in which I was scared as hell, but also angry because I was scared. I remember the adrenaline and the realization that if I was going to die, I was going to fight with everything I had. Which, looking back, seems kind of strange. Many animals often give up if they realize they’re going to die. But humans don’t. Any kind of hope, any kind of need to fight and survive is all we need to keep going. We rarely just give up.

Imagine:

A ship of imperial soldiers of the Fiuldarian Empire had sighted the Star Chaser. All crew had done their best to push the ship to her point, trying to outrun the imperial flagship. But it was no use. Within a few ticks they had been flown down and anchored. But the soldiers never boarded, which scared Captain Din:ai. She stood in the control room before her holoscreens, staring with fear-blown eyes. The imperial ship never sent a communications, nor did it fire any weapons. She had no idea what was going to happen.

Until something did happen.

From the comm, Equaloi’s high-pitched screams shattered the tense silence. The feathered Unaga’o cried out something in their native tongue before a wet gargle cut his voice. His comm cut off, but not before a strange clicking and growl were heard. All in the room stood still, antenna, fur, and scaly plates twitching with anticipation. All eyes stared up at the Captain, awaiting her orders. Or reassurance. Something. But the tall Diralo stood as still as her crew, three-fingered hands balled tightly.

The comm went off again, making several in the room jump. This time heavy breathing sounded. “I just found Equaloi and Fir’nad.” Alex Risach, the only human among Din:ai’s crew. They sounded unnervingly calm, but there was something off about their voice. “They’re not…alive. And they’re all over the place.” Din’ai drew in a sharp breath, her breathing cavities in her chest whistling lowly. Two dead. But not from soldiers.

Din:ai pressed the receiver. “What do you mean by ‘all over the place’?”

“I mean,” Alex said. “That they are in pieces. Torn apart.” Alex’s next sentence made Din:ai’s blood grow cold. “Imperial soldiers did not do this.” Din:ai remained silent, thinking desperately about what to do. Her long kallocks of experience did not prepare her for this situation. Because as much as she wished to deny it, the last few minutes made it clear what was going on. Something was aboard the Star Chaser. And it was extremely dangerous.

“Risach, listen to me. You must make your way to the control room. Any crew you find must follow these same instructions. Whatever is aboard is extremely dangerous, and must not be approached until we know what it is. Do you copy?” There was silence on the other side. Din:ai grew tenser with every quiet second. “Risach, do you copy?”

A click of the comm. And an alien screeching. Angry words could be heard in a human language, one Din:ai did not recognize as a common tongue. Then a feral scream, one that had the scales along Din:ai’s back arching in terror. Every crew member listened in rapt attention, all trying to imagine what was going on behind the sounds.

Then Alex’s voice screaming above the commotion.

“GET SHIT ON MOTHERFUCKER!” A howling squeal followed. A click as the comm turned off. Another click as it turned back on. “On my way to the control room. I recommend all weapons off safety and for everyone to take cover. This thing is mean and ugly as sin.” Their heavy breathing didn’t hide the deep gruffness in their voice. Din:ai pushed away the observation. She could worry about deciphering human language tones later.

She reached under her command center, grabbing the firearm she had hidden earlier. All other crew in the room followed suit. Din:ai pulled up a hole map of the ship, centering in on Alex’s orange-dotted life signal. And the life signal following them. The label above the beeping red dot read ‘unknown’. Both signals were closing in on the command room’s eastern doorway. The giant Diralo captain signaled to all crew present to aim their weapons at the door.

“Anything non-human coming through that door gets shot, understood?” Nods and chirps of agreement. The room became quiet once more, the atmosphere thick with fear-scent. Then sounds could be heard beyond the door. A strange clicking-screeching drowned out everything. Din:ai jerked when banging sounded on the other side of the door. Alex’s voice muffled through the walls.

“OPEN IT!” Din:ai shouted. Yugi, a derumo juvenile who was closest to the door, hit the controls beside it. The door slide upward, exposing the dim hallway and the blood-covered human behind it. Alex sprinted through, turning to aim their weapon at the open doorway.

Then the creature appeared. All recoiled at the sight. Alex spoke true. It was immensely ugly. It resembled a Terran arachnid, long spindly legs supporting a large, hulking body that stood just above Alex’s height. But that is where similarities ended. It was covered in black chitinous armor, spiked and sharp. A pair of spindly arms with elongated claws sat beneath its head. It’s head swayed low, its mouth shaped like a five pointed star shape, teeth covering every flesh surface. Beady black eyes stared from its skull, reflecting the light beaming down. It screeched and charged toward Alex. The crew opened fire.

The gunfire seemed to stop it for a moment before it grew confident again. Because the barrage of bullets and energy weapons barely dented its thick black armor. The clawed arms beneath its head rose to protect its eyes from the oncoming assault.

The gunfire began to lessen as ammo was lost, and the creature noticed. With its head shielded, it approached through the fire storm. That’s when a cloud of fire billowed over it. It screeched and fell back. Alex stalked forward, their weapon drawn against their shoulder, and let loose another bout of streaming flame. The creature retreated, it’s clicks an incessant stream of fearfulness.

“I am so glad I grabbed my flamethrower instead!” Alex shouted. Many of the crew realized their weapons were not effective against the creature, backing under their respective shelters beneath command boards.

Alex’s weapon sputtered and lost its flame. A curse under their breath and they scrambled to reload. But they weren’t fast enough. The creature sprang forward in the moment of weakness and latched its jaws around Alex’s leg. Alex screamed as the beast tore into flesh, red blood spattering on the white floors. It but down and began dragging Alex away, swinging and throwing them around. Alex screamed and cursed in their human tongue, beating at the creature’s head with their weapon.

The weaponless crew could only watch as their human crew mate battled a seemingly hopeless war. Some had run to the western doors, opening them and running away into the depths of the ship.

Din:ai was of the few that stayed, aiming a nearly empty energy gun at the armored beast. She was horrified watching as Alex was tossed about. But what more surprised her was the continued struggle on Alex’s part. They didn’t stop. They continued to beat down upon the creature’s head, screaming and kicking with their free leg at any exposed hide. Even as more blood was lost they fought back.

And Din:ai felt some of her courage, if not shame, return watching the small human fight. She aimed her gun, locking onto the beast’s one exposed weakness: it’s eyes. The black beady things were covered with it’s strange claws, shielding itself from the onslaught of Alex’s flamethrower. The creature was snarling as it dragged Alex, but Alex was snarling back. Din:ai, waiting for an opening, watched as Alex dug the flamethrower beneath the creatures contorted claws, letting go and tearing at it face with their own hands. Their fingers tore wildly, landing on the creatures jaws, trying to part the cage of flesh and teeth latched to their leg. Alex was able to tear away one of the creature’s jaw flaps and pulling with all their strength, ripped it off. Din:ai’s eyes widened. The creature screamed, and Alex screamed back.

The pain the creature was experiencing caused it to lose focus. It’s claws dropped, exposing its eyes. Din:ai took the shot. The wet, electrical sound of an energy discharge into flesh was heard. The creature stopped screaming. Instead it contorted and struggled. Alex was dropped, rolling away and clutching their leg. The creature continued its death throes for a moment more, then its legs curled together and it slumped to the ground, becoming still.

When Din:ai was sure the creature was dead, she crawled down to Alex. The human was clinging to their leg, clutching the horrific wound still leaking blood. Din:ai leaned over them tearing of her clothing covering her torso. She went to move Alex’s hands, but the deep growl the human made caused her to freeze. Din:ai had never heard such sounds come from humans, nor did she know they could do such things. They sounded as ugly as the creature’s. She stared down at Alex.

“Please remove your hands. We need to stifle the bleeding.” Alex stared up at her with large eyes, the white around the brown irises strangely animalistic. Scared and wild. Their chest was heaving, breath loud and raspy. They growled again, baring their teeth in a ugly grimace, then exhaling and letting their hands drop. Din:ai surveyed the wound before wrapping it. The beast had torn the flesh away from the bone, the off-white color unnatural underneath the red flesh. Bits of skin and meat hung from the wound, held together by the thinnest of muscle sinew. It was terrible.

Din:ai wrapped it, ignoring the red blood collecting on her hands. She instead focused on Alex’s wellbeing. “You are extraordinary.” She said. “I always wondered why you humans are held in such high regard. You should not be alive after that beast had you in its jaws.”

Alex snorted. “I’m from Australia.” They grunted, grimacing in pain. “I’ve seen bigger fuckers than that thing. Dealt with worse than that thing.”

Din:ai did not doubt her colleague’s words.

~~~~~~

Wow this was fun. This is the kind of stuff I like to write. Horror-thriller short stories with a little bit of badassery sprinkled in. Thank you again to everyone who bombarded my phone with notifications about how liked my first post was. That was wild. Brought me back to my Wattpad days. If anyone has any suggestions for future story prompts, I may or may not use it. I love writing about how humans can be stupid badasses, it brings in the serotonin. This blog might even become more sci-fi short stories with “humans are space orcs/Australians/insane” prompts. Dunno. lets see what happens.

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