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#tw insanity
star-vibing-prompts · 9 months
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Villain shook their head, staring at the supervillain with wide horrified eyes.
SuperVillain was holding Hero's head with their head, a insane wide smile on their face. "Surprised Villain?" They smirked, tossing Hero's head near Villains feet.
"Hope you like your gift!" SuperVillain laughed.
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random-lil-illing · 3 months
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decided to redesign ink sammy. i love it when people design him as a sheep but in my heart he will always be a sheep-dog
he definitely gave himself top surgery the second he turned to ink... he couldnt wear shirts anymore so he had to improvise (the scar on his stomach is from tearing his uterus/unecessary organs out)
he wears a bendy necklace like christian people wear crosses/jewish people the star of david
TW for disturbing headcanon under the cut (insanity-influenced body modification)
okay so i said i based him off of a DOG, not a sheep - so why does he have hooves like bendy?
okay well basically we know hes insane and a bendy worshipper, and he saw his 'lord' has hooves like a sheep/goat. now, at the time he had dog legs/paws, but he wanted to appreciate/be closer to his lord, so he cut his paws off and shoved wooden planks into the cut-off areas to imitate hooves. obviously they didnt hold very well, so he just wrapped bandages around them. he also trained/changed the general form of his legs by breaking the bones in the and then when he put splints on them, he re-arranged the bones to look a small bit more like ink bendy's legs. as you can imagine the planks dig into exposed flesh/bone so hes in horrible pain whenever he walks. the consequences of being a crazy cartoon cultist
also i dont think i ever explained his face scars?? theyre from ink bendy. most of his scars are (except the top surgery/hysteroctomy scars and the two little scars on his shoulders. those are from himself and tom boris respectively)
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loaflovesdoodling · 3 months
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what if I introduced batshit Ades in gijinka form instead of normal
P.S.A. I'm mentally stable. (:
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chaoscrawls · 3 months
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【BASICS】
Name: Hastur Alias: The King in Yellow, The Unspeakable One Pronouns: He/him
【Appearance】
Mortal:
Hair Colour & Style: Long blond almost golden, reaching to below his waist. Is messy on top and around his face, but straight and neatly brushed the further it goes. Recently has begun styling it in a high ponytail because his cousin complimented it offhandedly. Eyes Colour: Yellow. Complexion: Pale, with faint bags under his eyes, no other blemishes are noticeable. Height: 6 ft 2 inches
Eldritch:
Usually seen in the form of a large human skeleton wrapped in intricate yellow robes. Under the surface of the bones, there is a pulsing oil-like substance that seems to make up his core. When he speaks in this form his words sound like a whisper, no matter how loud he is speaking.
【Personality】
Positive Traits: Curious, trusting, enthusiastic, family orientated Negative Traits: Impulsive, lazy, tactless, mischievous, fussy
【Abilities】
- Teleportation - Liquid shadow - Inducing madness (Passive - Explained in detail further on.) - Amorphous Physiology
【Relations】
Yog-Sothoth - Father - Asleep Cthulhu - Half brother - Asleep Nyarlathotep - Cousin - While Hastur loves and seeks approval from his cousin, the feeling is not reciprocated. Nyar finds him to be a frustrating burden.
【Lore】
Hastur has been a resident of the void for a long time, which can get incredibly lonely when most of your family is in a deep… seemingly endless slumber. It used to be better for him, once upon a time as he was allowed to wander the mortal plain as much as he liked, meeting humans that worshipped his family. That is till all of the cult members he was spending time with started going insane and killing themselves. Deciding that he was no good for the family’s goals and the mortal members they were amassing, he was banished back to the void by Nyarlathotep. The mortals were left, only a play with his name and a strange symbol to remember him by.
【Warnings】
When interacting with Hastur he has the passive ability to make mortals go slowly insane in his presence. He has very little control over this power (except the ability to expedite it). The rate at which the insanity takes root depends on what origin the mortal is (human or supernatural) and how often his name is spoken. Other Lovecraftian deities are not affected by this power and there are some creatures that are less susceptible to it and some that are completely immune. Before writing with Hastur I would prefer to speak to the mun about what category their muse will fall under.
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peanut-tyrug · 6 months
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TADC Fanfic: How the Game can Change
Chess is an ornate game. Each piece has it’s role. Each game has it’s rules… but what would happen if the game were to suddenly change?
TRIGGER WARNING - This fic contains body horror, memory loss, caps, insanity, bullying, and fighting/arguing. If you aren’t comfortable with this things, please don’t read this.
Chess is a very complex and orderly game.
You have a black and white checkered board. Black and white pieces. Pieces with their own individual roles and rules.
…But what would happen if the game were to suddenly change? It’s rules bended, pieces swapped…
…How could it all change…?
In a game of chess, you have a Queen and a King.
The Queen protects the King. Keeps him out of danger brought upon by the opposite end of the board.
The King can never help but be thankful he has someone to protect him.
Especially when he’d be nothing without her.
…Unable to live without her…
Two juniors in High School, Kenton and Quinley, walk through the empty hall, enjoying their lunch break in solitude. Staring into each other’s beautiful eyes.
Kenton’s eyes as gleaming as sapphires. Quinley’s as dazzling as glistening tree sap under the setting sun.
“Hey! Look!” Says someone nearby. “It’s those chess people!”
The couple is snapped out of their trance and looks back to the source of the voice. They see a few boys grouped up together, looking at them.
“Are you two going to collect bugs or something?” Says another boy. The group laughs.
“Who the hell collects insects for fun?” Says another boy amongst the laughing.
Kenton’s face furrows a bit. “I’ll have you know—“
“Know what?” Says a boy. “That you and girlfriend are weird?”
The group laughs again.
“You two are such nerds!” Says another boy.
“Freaks!” Exclaims one boy. “Get the freak alarm out! Wee-woo-wee-woo-wee-woo!”
The boys laugh again. Kenton, embarrassed, rubs his arm and moves back a bit. He looks over to Quinley.
“Lets just go, Quin.” Says Kenton.
Anger quickly bubbles inside Quinley’s body. She storms up to the boys and stares them down.
“What’re you gonna do? An abrasive chess maneuver?” A boy asks. He cackles.
Quinley then reels an arm back and slaps the boy across his face. The sound echos through the entire hallway. It definitely sounded like it hurt. Kenton stares in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape. So do the boys, who’ve stopped laughing entirely.
“No one talks trash about our passions like that!” Says Quinley, anger imbedded in her voice. “Someone ought to teach you how to respect others!”
“What? You gonna call your mommy?” One boy asks, snapping out of his shock.
“I’ll get you lot to call your mommies in a flash.” Says Quinley. She cracks her knuckles. She stares the boys down, a smirk laying on her face.
“You wanna fight?” Asks a boy, the strongest of the group. He stands up and stares her down. He’s fairly tall compared to her. “Try me, then.”
Quinley’s face scrunches into that of pure burning vengeance. She begins to throw multiple punches in quick succession directly onto the boy’s stomach as if he were a punching bag, not even giving him a chance to hit. Kenton and the other boys stare as Quinley doesn’t stop hitting her opponent, who begins to wince as he falls back against the wall. After a few more hard hitting blows to the stomach, Quinley then kicks the boy directly between his legs, the boy grunts in pain and falls to his knees. He grabs hold of the injured lower area and flops to his side. The other boys stare at Quinley in terror before shrieking and running off, leaving the other boy there.
Quinley puts her hands to her hips and looks back to Kenton.
Kenton stares in utter disbelief. “…WHAT!?” Kenton shouts. “I can’t believe I just watched you do that!”
“I almost can’t either.” Says Quinley.
“That was amazing!” Says Kenton, stepping over to Quinley. “I didn’t know you could throw punches like that! How’d you learn how to do that?”
“My mom taught me.” Says Quinley. “She told me that she defended my dad with her life. That’s what she taught me to do when I found the one I love. Love them, and keep them safe.”
“Awwwhh! That’s so sweet of your mother!” Says Kenton. “But, anyway, shall we go? My Queen?” He holds his hand out to her.
Quinley gasps a bit. She places a hand to her cheek. “Of course, my King.” She says. She places her hand onto Kenton’s.
The two walk away, leaving the boy to writhe.
Kenton can’t help but be thankful to have someone there for him.
It’s important to keep your loved ones close. You may never know what could happen to them in the future.
You never know when the game could suddenly begin to fall right before your eyes.
Through sickness and health…
“…I pronounce you man and wife.” Says the officiant.
Before Kenton can even react, Quinley pulls him close by the collar of his suit. The two share a tender kiss, which Kenton accepts. He cups Quinley’s face in his hands while Quinley continues to hold him by the collar. The crowd erupts into cheering.
“That’s my girl!” Says Quinley’s mother.
Through the happiest of moments…
“Ken!” Says Quinley. “Look at this butterfly I caught!”
“Oh, it’s beautiful! Like you.” Says Kenton.
Quinley blushes a little. “Oh, stop it!” She giggles.
“It’s almost too beautiful to keep.” Says Kenton.
“Should we let it go?” Quinley asks.
“Yeah.” Says Kenton.
Quinley lets the butterfly fly out of the net, allowing it to fly into the sunset. The couple watches happily as it flies off into the vibrant orange sun.
And through the loneliest…
“You doing okay?” Kenton asks from the phone.
“I miss you.” Says Quinley. “Why’d you have to go out of the state alone? I want to be with you!”
“I miss you too, Quin, but this is important.” Says Kenton. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Hang tight.”
“I will, Ken.” Says Quinley.
Through whatever life may have to bring unto you, one should always be by their significant other, no matter what.
“It’s revolutionary!” Says Quinley. “A virtual reality world? A realm where you don’t even need to eat, drink or sleep? Oh, it’s wonderful!”
“It is!” Says Kenton. “Although, I wouldn’t really want to live there, whether we could leave or not.”
“I wouldn’t either.” Says Quinley, smile fading a bit. “Sure it’d be cool, but… what if we can’t leave? What of my family, my friends… and you?” Quinley looks to Kenton, anxiety draping over her eyes.
“We should be fine. We could just take off the headset.” Says Kenton. “Sorry for freaking you out.”
“Oh, you’re okay, Ken.” Says Quinley.
The air then becomes a bit thick. Silent.
Before Kenton breaks the silence. “Anyway, I can’t wait to show you the finished product.”
“I can’t wait either!” Says Quinley.
…Through it all…
“I’m gonna turn the program on.” Says a developer. “You two ready?”
“Yes.” Says Quinley, trying to contain her excitement.
“Mm-hm.” Says Kenton, nodding.
“Alright,” Says the dev. “Prepare your eyes. It’s bright.”
…Everything…
…But what if you’ve lost it all…?
All of your memories.
Whatever you had before suddenly awakening again…
…What of you both now…?
When your life has been reduced to nothing but code…
When you look down at yourself and see you are nothing like who you faintly remember…
Face made of wood. A long violet robe going down to you feet... If you even have any. Gloved hands with no arms to be seen.
When you look into a nearby mirror and see how you’ve changed…
“…W-WHAT AM I!?” Exclaims a white King chess piece with tilted eyes.
When someone else seems to be in the same position as you. Just as scared and uncertain of the world around them…
“Excuse me?” Says a feminine voice.
The King piece turns. He sees a brown Queen chess piece. Long red robe, gloved hands with no arms, tilted eyes, although inverted compared to the King piece. She looks into the mirror. Startled by her appearance, she moves back. She looks over to the King piece.
“…I believe we’re thinking the same thing here.” She says.
…What are you to do?
“My, my!” Says a dramatic voice, suddenly shouting through the once quiet air. “Humans have finally entered this realm!”
The two chess pieces look back, and gaze upon the figure. They both yelp and move back.
The figure wore a rose pink vest, white undershirt, and black bow tie, an attire fit for a ringmaster of a Circus. What was odd about the figure though was that it’s head was that of pair of dentures with a pair of eyes floating with them. On top of the head was a black top hat.
“Who’re you!?” Asks the Queen.
“My name is Caine!” Says Caine. “I’m the ringmaster and overseer of the AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!!” He waves his arms up. “An incredible world of wonders where anything can happen!”
“…Huh?” The King piece questions.
“Oh!” Caine seems to have remembered something. He takes off his hat, and from it, a bubble with beady eyes and a large sharp smile pops out. “And this here is Bubble! My assistant and dear friend of mine!”
Bubble stares upon the duo with his beady eyes. “Can I eat your skin?” He asks.
The duo moves even further away.
“Now, Bubble!” Says Caine. “What did I tell you about threatening the arrivals? Get back in this hat, mister!” He takes off his hat, allowing Bubble to go back into Caine’s hat.
Caine looks back to the frightened duo and hovers over to them, staying inches away from their faces.
“Wow!” Says Caine. “Amazing avatars! Show stopping! Spectacular!”
The duo moves back even further. “Stay away from us, you creep!” Says the Queen.
“Enough looking, let’s go looking!” Says Caine, ignoring the Queen’s desire entirely. He lifts his hands in the air, allowing the duo to hover above the ground. Caine then quickly flies forward, dragging his new companions with him into the outside world.
“Here we have, the TENT!!” Exclaims Caine dramatically. “This is where your living quarters are, as well as loads of other activities! These activities may include—“
Caine then pauses, left index finger hanging in the air and his maw agape. His eyes have blue screens in them.
“…What’s wrong with him?” The King whispers to the Queen.
“…I don’t know.” The Queen whispers back.
“Ball pits, mini golf, and MORE!!” Says Caine, snapping out of his buffering.
Caine then floats forward again, taking his guests further out.
“Here we have, the GROUNDS!!” Says Caine. “Drown yourself in the Digital Lake, or engage in ridery at the Digital Carnival! Night, day, it’s all okay! The choice is yours, a cosmic buffet!”
Before the duo can speak, Caine takes them further out. Out into a space completely void of color.
“This is the VOID!!” Says Caine, his voice echoing through the Void. “…No one is meant to venture into the Void. Not even I know what’s out there…” Caine says ominously.
Once again, Caine takes the duo on his own little trip. This time, back to the Tent’s interior.
The pieces move back. “Stay away, you chatterbox!” The King exclaims.
“How do we get out of here!?” The Queen piece asks.
“A—“ Caine begins, buffering. Again.
The chess pieces stare, waiting for an answer.
Caine eventually snaps out of it. “…Well… I’m sorry to say that there isn’t one.”
The chess pieces stare in horror.
When there’s no way out…
What do you do…?
“But, let’s not worry about that!” Says Caine. “What’s your name, your majesty?” Caine asks the Queen chess piece, pointing his cane at her.
The Queen appears to be staring at the floor, mind blank.
“…Are you okay?” The King piece asks.
The Queen then snaps her head up. “—Huh? What?”
“Your name?” Caine asks, still pointing his cane at her.
“Oh! Uh—“ The Queen thinks, then begins to panic a bit. “…I-I don’t remember!? Why can’t I remember my name!? What about you?” She asks the King piece, head turned to him.
The King thinks, before his eyes go wide. “O-oh no…” Says the King. “I don’t know!?”
“YOU!” The Queen points at Caine. “Why can’t we remember our names!?”
“Nobody can remember their name once they enter the Digital Circus!” Says Caine. “One of the things I… don’t have control over, are your minds. So, all I can help you with is coming up with a new one!
The pieces look distressed by this information. The Queen more so than the King, as she’s begun to stare blankly at the ground.
“What’ll it be?” He points his cane at the Queen again.
The Queen hesitates. Then, “Queenie.” She says quickly. “It’s Queenie.” After a bit, she goes back to blankly staring at the ground.
“And what about you, kingly fellow?” Caine asks the King, now pointing his cane at him.
“…Uhm… uh…” He stammers. He looks over to Queenie and gets an idea. He turns to face Caine. “Kinger.” He says. “It goes well with Queenie, I believe.”
Queenie looks over to Kinger, snapping out of her blank trance. She stares at at him.
She never noticed how handsome he looked.
“Great names!” Says Caine. “Well, I think we’ll need more humans here for me to start our adventures! I’ll see you two around!” Caine then disappears.
Kinger looks over to Queenie.
He never noticed how pretty she looked.
“…I never noticed how, uhm…” Queenie begins. She glances down, blushing. She eventually looks back up at Kinger. “…How handsome you are.”
Kinger blushes. “Oh! Uh, uhm…” He stammers. “…Me?” He points to himself.
“Of course!” Says Queenie. “You’re the only other handsome man in this room!”
Kinger glances down, blushing. He looks back up to Queenie. “…Thank you.” He says. “I really appreciate it.”
“You’re very welcome.” Says Queenie, blushing a bit, glancing down.
Caine then suddenly reappears. “I almost forgot!” He says. “Your rooms!”
~~~
Caine leads the chess pieces through a long hallway with multiple doors on each side. Every door has a portrait on it, but they all resemble mannequins that you’d use for art. All but two doors, which have portraits of Kinger and Queenie on them.
“Your room, madame!” Says Caine as he holds the door the Queenie’s room open for her.
“Thank you.” Says Queenie. “I appreciate it.” She enters the room and turns back to face Kinger. She waves him goodbye.
Kinger waves back.
Caine shuts the door. “Onward, Kinger!” Says Caine. He begins to take Kinger over to his room.
As the two walk, Kinger can’t help but feel concerned for Queenie.
It didn’t look like she was taking their predicament well.
~~~
“Queenie?” Kinger asks, knocking on Queenie’s door. “May I come in?”
Queenie opens her door a bit. She peaks from the opening. “…You can come in.”
Kinger enters Queenie’s room. It’s colorful, yet dark. Various vanity is placed around the room. A bed sits to the room’s side. A bed fit for a Queen.
Queenie sits himself on her bed. Kinger follows suit and sits next to her. Queenie stares down at the ground while Kinger looks over to her.
“…Are you alright?” Kinger asks.
Queenie sighs. “…I’m stuck here. You’re stuck here… we’re stuck here…” She says. “…How can I be okay when I’ve lost all of what I had before? Whatever we had… friends, family… it all disappeared from us. Just like that…” She snaps her fingers. “…What can we do? What can I do?”
Kinger takes a moment to think, glancing down. He then glances back up at Queenie. “…Adjust.” Says Kinger. “Find ways to keep ourselves together.”
“What!? But what if Caine’s lying to us?” Queenie suggests. “What if he’s lying about there not being an exit?”
Caine then suddenly appears inside the room. “I wasn’t lying, by the way!” He says. He then glances down, then back up at the duo. “About the exit.” He then disappears.
Kinger looks over to Queenie. “See?” He says.
Queenie glances down, then back up at Kinger. “…If there really isn’t an exit…”
“We adjust.” Says Kinger, lending out his hands for Queenie to hold. She takes them. “We stay by each other’s sides. I’ve got your hand.”
If Queenie had a mouth, she’d have the biggest smile on her face. “…And I’ve got yours.”
The two lean their heads against each other.
What do you do when you find each other? Discover that you’re sharing suffering? Discover your shared feelings?
You love each other.
Stay by each other until the very end…
Kinger and Queenie, along with the other members of the Digital Circus troupe, watch as a former member gets placed into a hole in the ground.
Although, they looked nothing like how they used to.
Their body was a mesh of polygons. Slimy and viscous polygons. Various different colored and pulsating eyes dotted the creature.
“In the Cellar you go!” Says Caine, placing the creature into a hole in the floor.
“…Hey, Caine?” Asks a Circus member, Ragatha the ragdoll. “…What happened to them? What was that?”
The first of many to fall to this phenomenon, unfortunately…
“That, my dear, is a little thing called 'Abstraction'.” Says Caine. “One becomes abstracted when they 'lose their marbles', so to speak. But! You shouldn’t have to worry about that when I’m here to give you fun and wacky adventures!”
The Circus members glance at each other, uncertain and scared.
Scared about what they had just heard.
…What if another member were to just… lose themselves like that…?
Lost to the madness.
Lost to the desire.
“Never mind any of that, though!” Says Caine. “You’ve all done wonderful on your adventure today! I give you, my fine friends, a reward!”
“I’m listening.” Says Jax the purple rabbit, another Circus member.
“The gift of friendship!” Caine exclaims.
“…What.” Says Jax, a bit disappointed.
“I’ll leave you all alone to let yourselves connect with your friends! Until tomorrow, my little superstars!” Caine then disappears in a white cloud.
“…I thought we’d actually get something.” Says Jax.
“Be grateful, Jax!” Says Ragatha. “Friendship is important! …Especially in a world that doesn’t have an exit… and no matter how hard we try we can’t leave or else we’ll go insane! …Heheh…”
The air tenses.
“…She is right, though.” Says Kinger, breaking the silence among the troupe. “We need companionship in a place like this, right, Queenie?”
Queenie appears to be blankly staring at the ground before her head quickly picks up. She looks over to Kinger. “—What?”
“We need companionship in a world like this, right?” Kinger asks, concern in his voice.
“Oh! Yes!” Says Queenie. “We need each other. It’s the only thing keeping us together.”
“Cute.” Says Jax. “Keep that dread away for as long as you can. I’m gonna go get something to eat.” Jax walks off.
Ragatha gives Jax the stink eye as he walks off. She grumbles. She then looks over to Kinger and Queenie. “Anyway, you two are so cuuuuute! You’re inseparable!”
“Hehe, I like to think we are.” Says Kinger.
“No,” Queenie begins. “We are.”
Kinger looks over to Queenie, eyes wide. His expression softens and he blushes a little. “Maybe we are.” He says. “My Queen.”
Queenie’s eyes go slightly wide. Her expression also softens. She blushes. “…My King.”
Kinger and Queenie then share a hug, leaning their heads against each other. Ragatha gushes at the moment.
She was right.
They truly were inseparable.
Although that may be true, that still doesn’t mean separation can be prevented.
Abstraction is still a threat, you know.
It’s something one cannot always keep at bay.
Not for long, at least.
The concept of Abstraction dangles over some heads like a ring of car keys. Tempting one to fear it. Fear the day that you snap and become a husk of who you used to be.
Some people play with those car keys like a cat with a ball on a string. Pry at the thought. Pry at the fear. Let the fear sprout into a disgusting and rotting flower.
It eats at your mind. Your sanity.
The inability to leave this wonderful world of madness eats at your mind.
Sometimes, one can’t help but think of it.
Even when you think you have something, someone, to help you cope with what you’ve lost…
Regardless of how mentally sound they may seem. Regardless of what you can and can’t see of someone’s head.
Regardless of a piece’s role in a game…
“I don’t know what to do…” Says Queenie. “I’m scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of being away from you… lost to my own head…”
“You won’t be,” Says Kinger. “As long as I’m right here. You won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll always be there for you.”
Queenie looks up to Kinger happily. “…I’ll be there for you, too… As long as I have you…” She says. “…We can stay together.”
…No matter how hard they try…
…No matter what roles switch…
The game will soon become that of a broken, unruly kingdom…
“Queenie?” Kinger asks, knocking on Queenie’s door. “Queenie? Are you alright?”
Silence.
Awful, deafening silence.
It’s terrifying.
“Hey,” Says an approaching voice. “You lookin' for your girlfriend?”
Kinger looks back. It’s Jax, walking towards him.
“Jax!” Kinger exclaims, slightly relieved. “Have you seen Queenie? I don’t think she’s in her room…”
“No, haven’t seen her.” Says Jax. “Guess you’re gonna have to look around the entire Circus for her. Good luck.” He says slyly. Jax walks down the long hall of rooms toward the stairs at the end of the hall, sassy as he ever could be.
Kinger sees no point in going after Jax. He wasn’t necessarily the type of person to be helpful to anyone. Kinger decides to look for Queenie alone.
While everyone else is going on one of Caine’s new adventures, Kinger wanders around looking for his Queen.
“Queenie?” He says into the air worriedly. “Where are you?”
“Kinger?” Asks a soft voice. “Are you okay?”
It’s Gangle, a ribbon girl with a mask for a face.
“Gangle! Have you seen Queenie anywhere?” Kinger asks.
“…I’m sorry, Kinger,” Says Gangle, voice trembling with guilt. “I haven’t seen her.”
“Oh, you’re fine.” Says Kinger. “Good luck with the adventure, by the way.”
Gangle smiles. “…Thank you.” Suddenly, an odd little critter begins to chase after the Gangle. She yelps and runs off.
As Gangle runs off, Ragatha runs behind her.
“Good luck with finding Queenie, Kinger!” Says Ragatha.
“Good luck to you, too!” Says Kinger, waving his hand a bit. He heads off in the opposite direction of the others.
Kinger’s looked everywhere. Every door, every hall. He’s even asked the other Circus members if they’ve seen Queenie, but to no avail. She appears to be nowhere to be found.
Although, there’s only one place he hadn’t looked.
Outside the tent.
Kinger looks on at the exit to the tent. He slides over to the exit, hoping to find his Queen.
Kinger stops near the cliffs at the edge of the mountains end. He eyes the area, looking for any sign of Queenie.
“Queenie…?” He calls out.
As his eyes scour the area, his eyes stop and widen.
He’s spotted her.
Queenie sits, back turned to Kinger, laying against a rock. Her lower half curled up against her upper body. She appears to be trembling a bit.
“…Queenie?” Kinger asks, slowly moving toward Queenie.
Queenie quickly turns back, eyes wide in shock. She turns to face the other. She waves her hands to Kinger in a panic.
“What’s wrong?” Kinger asks.
Queenie quickly shakes her head and turns away from Kinger.
“Queenie…” Kinger says. “You’re going to be okay. Just breathe.”
Queenie turns back. “…No.” She says.
“…What…?” Kinger asks.
“I can’t do this anymore, Kinger. I can’t.” Says Queenie, voice slightly distorted and glitchy. “I can’t do this anymore. Why live when I’ve lost everything? My friends, my family… my life… I just can’t anymore… I JUST CAN’T, KINGER!!” The more she speaks, the more distorted her voice becomes.
“Queenie! Please!” Kinger says, panicking a bit. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself!”
“…I’m sorry…” Says Queenie. “…When my life has been reduced to nothing but code… what the hell am I supposed to do? …I-I just… I JUST CAN’T!!” She brings her hands to her head.
Queenie’s form begins to bug out, becoming more and more unrecognizable.
Kinger moves back a bit.
“I JUST CAN’T!! I CAN’T, I CAN’T, I CAN’T!!!” Says Queenie, becoming more and more distorted. “WHAT CAN I DO WHEN MY LIFE’S BEEN REDUCED TO NOTHING BUT CODE!?”
Terrible static is heard. It echos through the terrain. Kinger falls to his bottom and looks on in utter horror as Queenie’s form becomes completely unrecognizable. From her, a terrible shrill can be heard, all glitchy, distorted, and loud. Her form contorts into that of horrible polygonal beast, vibrant and colorful eyes appear through the beast’s body and neck.
Once it’s gained a proper form, the beast stares Kinger down. Kinger stares back in complete horror and disbelief.
“…Queenie… please…” Kinger says desperately. “…I-I can’t live in this world without you…”
The creature then loudly roars. It charges forward, banging its head into Kinger’s stomach. He gets flung back.
“Hey, Kinger?” Yells out a nearby voice. “Where’d you go? Did you find Queenie?”
Kinger quickly looks back. From the cliffs, Ragatha approaches.
“Kinger?” Ragatha calls out again. As she approaches, she suddenly stops.
“…W-w-what happened!?” Ragatha exclaims.
Kinger doesn’t respond, looking back to the beast with horror in his eyes.
Ragatha stares at the creature, before realization suddenly hits her…
…That’s why Queenie had left…
Ragatha puts her hands to her mouth and gasps. She looks down at Kinger. “…Kinger…” She says. “…I’m so, so sorry…”
Suddenly, the beast lets out a terrible growl. Ragatha and Kinger look on in shock.
“…CAAAAAAAINE!!” Ragatha shouts. She grabs Kinger and drags him along as she runs off.
The creature immediately chases after Ragatha. Ragatha, whilst holding onto Kinger and dragging him along, attempts to distract the creature by running around and about the terrain, but to no avail. She sprints back to the interior of the Circus tent, the creature still following her.
All for the other remaining Circus members to see.
“WHAT THE [SPROING!]!?” Exclaims Zooble, the amalgamation of pieces.
“What happened!?” Gangle exclaims.
“Oh, dear!” Kaufmo the clown exclaims.
“Uh oh!” Says Jax jokingly. “Looks like someone had a heated argument out there.”
“MOOOOOOOVE!!” Exclaims Ragatha.
The Circus members dodge as Ragatha runs toward the wall of the tent. Ragatha jumps to the side, causing the Abstracted creature to bump into the wall. The creature recollects itself and turns its head in Ragatha and Kinger’s direction. It begins to approach the ragdoll and King piece, a small growl escaping it.
“Uh-uhm—!!” Ragatha stammers, backing up. “We’re sorry!?”
The beast stares Ragatha down, snarling at her.
Until it’s suddenly lifted into the air.
Caine appears below the creature, holding up in the air. “Oh, dear!” Says Caine. “Who do we have here?”
The creature begins to squirm in Caine’s invisible grip.
“Now, now!” Says Caine. “We can’t have any carnage and destruction going on around here! Not in my Circus!”
A hole then opens up in the ground. “Another to add to the collection!” Says Caine, as he places the creature in the Cellar.
“…Who knew a Queen could be so brash?” Kaufmo asks.
“…We had no idea…” Says Gangle sadly. She begins to cry, the tears on her mask fall. “…W-we could’ve h-helped…”
“Maybe!” Says Caine. “But let’s not worry about that now! I’ve seen your progress throughout this adventure! Whose ready for a reward?”
Ragatha looks on at the Circus troupe. Everyone looks to be in mourning. All except Jax, who appears to be looking how he always does, sassy.
Ragatha then looks over to Kinger.
His eyes were wide with terror.
He looked like he could just snap at any moment.
It’s later in the 'day' within the Digital Realm. Everyone is in their rooms, either doing their own thing or mourning Queenie.
Most are sad she’s gone, but they’ve mostly adjusted to people losing it and abstracting.
Although, Kinger seems to be taking it the worst.
He sits on his bed, rocking back and forth a bit. Trying to process what had transpired.
But he can’t.
He can’t stop thinking about Queenie. What happened to her. What caused her to fall to her decline.
He felt he had caused this to happen. He provoked her, but judging by how she was acting…
There very likely wasn’t anything anyone could’ve done to help.
Kinger was alone. Just as Queenie was.
A King without his Queen.
…Alone…
The word echos through Kinger’s head.
He was alone.
…Alone…
…Alone…
It won’t go away…
…It won’t stop…
'…I-I can’t live in this world without you…'
…I can’t…
…I-I…
Kinger begins breathing hastily. Terror and panic swells up inside of him, ready to burst like a bomb. He gets up from his bed and stands in the middle of his room. He puts his hands to his head.
And then…
Something snaps.
“…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!!”
The other Circus members rush to Kinger’s room, fearing the worst. Ragatha slams the door open, allowing her and the Circus members to see the terror before them.
Kinger stands bent down with his hands against the wall, eyes bloodshot and body trembling. Breathing raspy and all out of wack.
“Kinger!” Ragatha exclaims. “Calm down! We can help!” She puts her arms out and begins to walk toward him.
Kinger quickly rises and smacks Ragatha’s hands away from him. “N-no!” He says. “…My Queen… she’s gone… I-I CAN’T LIVE IN THIS WORLD WITHOUT HER!!” His voice then becomes that of slight sobs within raspy breath.
“Kinger!” Ragatha exclaims. “Please, just relax! You’re gonna be okay!”
“…B-but…” Kinger stammers, hands and body terribly trembling. “…I-I-I…”
Ragatha stands there, not exactly sure what to do, before lunging at Kinger with a hug. He quickly pushes Ragatha off of him. She lands on her bottom.
“…What’re we gonna do?” Ragatha asks, looking back to the group. “We can’t just leave him alone.”
“I think he wants to be left alone, though.” Says Zooble.
Ragatha looks back to Kinger. Kinger stares at her. Kinger then points at the doorway leading out of his room.
“See?” Says Jax. “Leave him there.”
Ragatha slowly gets back up on her feet. She sadly turns back to the doorway and steps out. She turns back to face Kinger. “Sorry.” She says. She turns back to face the hallway and walks to her room.
The others follow Ragatha out. Jax shuts the room’s door.
Kinger is left alone. He sits down and curls up into a ball. He sits his down and begins to sob quietly.
Alone.
It’s been awhile, ages even, since Queenie had been lost to insanity. Most of the troupe had moved on from it.
So did Kinger… mostly.
Although, if seems to have taken a toll on him.
He’s become more jittery, by the looks of it. Paranoid. Staring blankly into space, no thoughts behind his eyes. Forgetful of his surrondings… forgetful, as if he has a memory problem.
“Queenie!? QUEENIE!?” Kinger shouts into the hallway of rooms.
“Kinger!?” Ragatha exclaims, popping out of her room. “You okay?”
Kinger quickly turns over to Ragatha and chanrges toward her. He slams his hands onto Ragatha’s shoulders and shakes her. “Ragatha! Have you seen Queenie!?”
Ragatha doesn’t answer, not sure how to respond.
Kinger then blinks and loosens his grip on Ragatha. He glanced around before looking back at the ragdoll. “GAH!!” He yelps. He lets go of the ragdoll. “Ragatha! You startled me. How are you doing?”
Ragatha nervously smiles. “…I’m good, Kinger.” She says.
“Splendid!” Says Kinger. “Oh! Caine’s probably preparing our next adventure. Come with me.”
Kinger then slides away from Ragatha and down the stairs leading to the Tent’s center. Ragatha follows, still nervously smiling.
The game has fallen right before his very eyes. The game has become that of an unruly kingdom, a deserted and desolate land with no one to claim it.
…Every role, every rule… all of it…
…See how the game can change…?
- END -
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Character Goes "Insane" and "Snaps Out of It"
Anonymous asked: Hello! I hope you’re doing well! 😊 I’d like tips on how to write a scene where a character who has snapped and gone completely insane softens or snaps out of it when they see their love interest dying (because of them), without it being unrealistic or just poorly developed/thought through/written. Context: MC snaps after numerous events that made them more and more deranged and the last straw was finding out their love interest betrayed them, so they kinda destroy their love interest’s country and when they’re about to deal the final blow to their love interest, they can’t do it.
Note: This ask came in off Anon, but since they--like most of us--are in the process of unlearning harmful information drilled into us by society and the media, I thought it best to put it on Anon for their protection. Please remember we're all in this process of unlearning and relearning together! ♥
Unfortunately, even today, the behaviors resulting from mental illnesses and other neurological conditions aren't well understood by the general public. There's still a lot of harmful beliefs and offensive terminology being perpetuated in the mainstream, and it looks like you have yet to start the unlearning process. So, let's unlearn together! ♥
Issue #1 - Outside of its continued use as a term in criminal law, the word "insanity" is outdated and meaningless. It dates to a time before specific mental illnesses and neurological conditions had been identified to explain associated behaviors. Even if your story is set in a time or place when mental illnesses and neurological conditions aren't understood or labeled, as a 21st century writer, you still need to know and understand the mental illness or neurological condition responsible for your character's behavior. You can't just have them experience increasing psychosis as a result of various traumatic events. You can start by researching the relationship between trauma, mental illnesses, and neurological conditions to learn which specific mental illnesses or neurological conditions may be responsible for your character's behavior.
Issue #2 - When someone has a mental illness or neurological condition that worsens over time and causes an increase in associated behaviors, that doesn't just go away in an instant due to some moment of emotional appeal. There are mental illnesses and neurological conditions that are characterized by episodes of associated behaviors interspersed with periods of improvement, but again, it wouldn't be a gradual slide to experiencing psychosis full-time that suddenly vanishes because a light bulb went on. Fortunately, this is something you should be able to figure out as you figure out exactly what is happening with your character and how it would affect their behavior/role in the story.
Issue #3 - Since mental illnesses and neurological conditions are many and varied, and many people are living with more than one, I can't tell you how to write this scene, because how to write this scene depends on the specific mental illness/es and/or neurological condition/s your character is living with and the specific behaviors they experience as a result. Only you can figure that out after you do the necessary research. Until that time, you're not ready to write this story without it being both harmful and offensive. The good news is, there is a ton of information available online, and if you put in the time and work to do the research and learn, you should be able to portray this character and scene in a way that is believable and well done. I would also suggest that before you share this story with an audience, you should look for a sensitivity reader with experience in whichever mental illness/es and/or neurological condition/s you decide make the most sense for your character. That way they can vet your portrayal to make extra sure it isn't harmful or offensive.
Here are some links to help with research:
WQA’s Guide to Internet Research Writing About Difficult to Research Topics
Best of luck with your research and story! ♥
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particle70 · 5 months
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TW: MENTIONED TORTURE, IMPLIED TORTURE, MENTIONED CHARACTER DEATH, MENTIONED SUICIDAL THOUGHTS (Kinda)
I am going to tear Bloodmoon limb from limb, so slowly that they will feel every agonizing second of it. And when they beg for the pain to end, to be killed, I'm not not going to give them that. I'm going to make them wish they were dead. How DARE they kill Earth.
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jaytheaceenby · 1 month
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running on 5 days no sleep, a fever, miley cyrus' voice, and the joker method acting (im not sane)
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one-wizard-frob · 3 months
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If I ever spiral into insanity I’m gonna make a point of posting on here frequently throughout it, and I want y’all to record it.
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solaneceae · 5 months
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first days are the hardest
a team bolas oneshot (read on ao3) tw: cannibalism, violence, blood, temporary character deaths (just bolas things)
When they all get off the train, wary and rattled by the ominous images and words streamed into their minds by the strange new entity, everything is red. Like a mist, heavy and thick and clogging up their airways. The train station echoes with dozens of voices, yelling and calling out for silence alike. (Some are singing, which is par for the course, because who could resist belting out the Halo theme song in such an echo-y place?)
They look for a way out, but there isn’t one. They check their inventory, and it’s empty, no backpacks and no warpstone and no weapons or food. They call out for Cucurucho, but no sign of the usually too-present white bear. Then they all freeze, and collective stumble-jolt as images and information flashes behind their eyes. They learn about Purgatory, and about teams, and fear and anxiety clutch at their hearts. Rip each other apart, the entity had said, and already wary glances are being thrown around, the cracks that had been slowly appearing between island residents suddenly growing into chasms.
(They could try to work together, despite what their Host said. They could be lying after all, about the eggs, and the curse. But they all know that until they can gather solid evidence, they will all play along this fucked-up game if it means their children might be returned to them.)
Hearts and minds are numbed, goodbyes exchanged. Bagi hugs Tina so tightly her bones creak, and whispers something into her ear that makes the girl blush furiously. Forever and Cellbit speak in hushed tones, not for long, but part with their eyes gleaming in determination. Bad and Baghera exchange an embrace, the duck giving the demon one last ducky kiss on his nose (which is more of a nip, but Bad giggles and retaliates with a peck on her forehead).
Then they all walk away, because time is running out and they have eggs to save.
***
The red team is. Something, alright.
Jaiden squeals in surprised joy when Foolish, Baghera and Slime all gather before their assigned door, the energy suddenly shifting from bleak and resigned to strangely, unnaturally manic. “Holy shit, the Swellers!” the conure woops, trapping them all in a hug that has them bumping heads. “That’s— okay, best team, best fucking team, we’ve got this.”
“Fuck yeah!” the slime hybrid cheers, way too enthused by all of this (but then again, he doesn’t have a kid on the line, convinced that Flippa is still waiting for him at home. None of the others say anything, because now is not the time for that overdue conversation.) Foolish makes a sound that should not be produced by a living thing’s vocal chords, but that Baghera eagerly mimics as she flaps her arm-wings elatedly.
Cellbit is a bit further away,  scarred arms moving animatedly as he talks to a disgruntled Phil — the crow nods and reflexively reaches behind him for a familiar mass that is no longer there. He keeps swaying forward and catching himself last-second, thrown off-balance by the absence of his usual black backpack, and his wings are exposed and god they’re a mess. Baghera and Jaiden both wince at the sight of clipped, damaged feathers and exposed skin, red and inflamed, an obvious sign of stress-plucking. They look at each other, a silent pact to deal with this later.
“Half our team isn’t even there,” the detective groans, rubbing at his face in barely-suppressed despair. “How is that fucking fair?”
“I mean, I know my way around hardcore shit. And I heard that Carré was pretty good at PvP,” the older man hums, glancing at the Argentinian in the cat onesie. Carré glances back at him at the sound of his name, raises a hand in greeting. “Yo.”
“Yeah, but—” Cellbit makes a low sound, something between a growl and a whine. “Caralho. Not to underestimate you guys, but the green team has Étoiles. Étoiles, and Forever, and fucking Fit from 2b2t. Blue has all the Create geniuses, and Pac, bro, you have no idea how good Pac is at combat, he’ll destroy us. And two weeks of this?” He sighs. “...Hey. Is Wilbur any good at this type of stuff, and is there a chance he’ll show up at all. Be honest.”
Phil grimaces, and that’s all the answers Cellbit needs. “Puta que pariú. That means we’ll be five, tops... six if we get lucky with Carré. We’re so fucked.”
The team immediately settles on the name Bolas?!?!?!, exclamation and interrogation points very much included, and Cellbit looks like he wants to perma-die right there and then. “Right,” he says, flat-toned and dull. “Of course. Fuck it, we ball I guess.”
Two minutes later, Carré’s dislocated body is soaking the coarse dirt of Purgatory with dark red, and they’re all collectively losing their shit. “Open your paragliders you dumbasses!” Foolish screeches over the manic laughter, and that’s the exact moment they all know there’s no way they’re winning this.
They are right. And it only gets worse as the day progresses.
***
The red skies loom over them oppressively, fresh burns and cuts all over their bodies from all the bullshit that has smacked them around for nearly four hours now. Charlie has given up on armors or weapons, hitting a meathead with a single stick as he screeches at it like a bat with rabies. “This isn’t Purgatory!” he screams into his cellphone thingy, his dying voice rattling the brains of the rest of his team, wherever they are. “This is Hell!” He startles and yelps, because he’s spotted a tree in the corner of his eye and thought it was Bad, back again to drive cold metal through his body again. He fucking hates the demon so much right now, even thinking about him makes him want to bash his head against a rock until sweet oblivion takes him away from this nightmare.
“Holy shit, kill yourself!” Jaiden yells out to the skies as yet another curse falls onto them, forcing their limbs to flail and move the way they don’t want them to. It’s not directed at anyone in particular, maybe it’s at herself, maybe it’s at all of them, even she cannot tell. Her eyes are blown wide, soot and dirt in her wings and hair, her limbs tingling with recent respawn. She’s smiling, and Charlie’s smiling, Baghera as well as she sobs before the firepit, rocking back and forth. “Just take my egg,” she giggles, a broken sound. Her eyes flicker with green and purple for a split second, and she feels like she’s losing her mind, grief and rage and despair devolving into pure chaos. “Just take my egg, I don’t care, I don’t care.”
“Holy shit, that’s what we’re at,” Jaiden cackles, barely avoiding getting impaled by another mob. “Kill Pomme!” Cellbit is laughing from the other side of their comms, loud and high-pitched, and Baghera should be mad at him, shouldn’t she? She knows he’s been killing innocent workers, that was still a thing, right? She still cared, right? So why was she laughing? Had they really been broken that badly, that fast? And Philza, Philza who’s been driving himself mad looking for his own eggs, the bastion of their sanity, he’s laughing too, and screeching about some fish attacking him, and god, Carré isn’t responding anymore, he’s fucking dipped, and it’s all gone pear-shaped.
The rest of the day melts into red-grey sludge. They find themselves gathered around a campire and they’re laughing and wailing and sobbing and more laughing, and there’s some singing at some point as their limbs flail in something like dancing. Everything hurts, everything sucks, and it’s somehow so goddamn funny, and everytime they begin to calm down one of them says something so unhinged that they all devolve into hysterics again. Foolish is off building a castle somewhere, eager to start their emerald empire.
Bad kills Slime once, twice, and then he kills Baghera, who feels a part of herself wilt. She understands, though. She cannot stay mad at Bébou, even after that. She knows he’s doing this for their children, and will run over everyone to save them, including her. She’s strangely okay with that. (She hopes she gets to kill him, later. It’s a visceral want, like hunger. It scares her, because she still loves him to death, but she wants to wrap her hands around his neck and watch the life bleed out of his mismatched eyes. He won’t hold it against her, she knows.)
They start to kill each other at some point, tired of being killed by the ones they used to trust. Slime and Cellbit beat the shit out of each other with sticks until the smaller man is downed, and Cellbit finishes him off by ripping out his throat with his very teeth while Jaiden cheers from somewhere at his right. Baghera loses her shit when she learns she’s been grinding for saplings for nothing, and drives a sword through Philza’s back, who just laughs and chokes in his own blood because alright, that’s fair. Jaiden and Slime wrestle in the half finished tower as Foolish hums, placing block after block, unbothered by the conure beating the slime hybrid into the ground until his goopy green body becomes mere jelly. The totem huffs at her, requests that she cleans up the mess as Slime rushes back, fresh from respawn, and snaps the young avian’s neck.
They start walking willingly into the fire, the pain barely registering because their entire self just tingues and aches from laughing nonstop. They burn, and they fall, and respawn with the smell of charred flesh and void-ozone in their nose before climbing into the fire again just to feel something. Their commlinks are buzzing with messages from the other teams, some of them concerned, some of them mocking. None of them care. “We should start a cult,” one of them says, and none of them can remember who because their minds are mingling, fucked-up osmosis. They wonder how hard it would be to craft gas masks for all of them, decide it's an issue to tackle another day.
Jaiden eats the last potato, and they’re all starving to death. Eyes glide over to the pile of charred bodies around the fire, and Cellbit doesn’t remember much from what happens after that. Only the taste of blood and meat of all kinds, human and not. (Part of him knows that Baghera tasted particularly delicious, but he tries his best not to linger on that.) “I think we should all only use our own corpses,” he drawls, pupils mere slits and blood on his chin. The others don’t look much better, and he wonders if this is divine punishment for his sins, seeing people he cares about be dragged onto the same horrible path had been on — was now back on. “I don’t— it’s too much. Too far.”
They all agree. Cellbit never tastes bird meat after that. (And he’s strangely disturbed by the idea of a duck eating meat, let alone duck meat, but he’s so fucking done.)
“I could not ask for a better group of people to be stuck in this shit with,” Philza breathes out as night falls, sprawled onto his back on top of Foolish’s tower with his wings dirty and blood-soaked. Étoiles killed him earlier, and that’s kinda fucked, but he still trusts the man with his life. And his death. The others all acquiesce around him, every single one staring up at stars and constellations that don’t look right, eyes too shiny and smiles too wide, and they know that something in their brain chemistry has irrevocably changed.
This cursed place has no sheep, which means no wool, which means no beds. So when exhaustion crashes into them like a freight train, they forego all sense of personal boundaries and crawl into each other’s arms on top of their little tower of despair, in one fucked up pile of aching limbs and blood-soaked clothes.
Tomorrow will be another day. But they all know nothing will ever be the same after this.
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bazookaboi · 3 months
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… Me watching the inexplicable pain, horror and suffering that I put my characters through in my brain every single second of their existence:
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she-had-many-names · 3 months
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IN FULL DETAIL HOW DID STITCH DIE
(elsie rant!!!!! Doesn't need to be answered now or at all if you don't want to)
-mod kumo
Okay since I can tw this, that’s literally so easy
suicide.
I mean look at this place if it broke someone like Ciana…
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dogbound1128 · 4 months
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WAIT IM SORRY RUN THAT BY ME ONE MORE TIME THERE'S
A TEENAGE BROTHER WHO'S A JERK TO HIS LITTKE BROTHER
AN INNOCENT LITTLE BROTHER
A SILLY YOUNGEST SISTER
AND THE ELDEST BROTHER'S NAME IS MICHAEL??
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HABABABHABHA IM GOING INSANE??
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loaflovesdoodling · 5 months
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"Pleiades is canonically powerful enough to move stars with enough emotional stimuli."
"That means that if he's THAT devastated and out of his mind [...], he would, in a fit of rage, cause a Solar Eclipse."
"The day would turn into night, and just enough light would shine through...."
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"to paint the moon red."
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big-greer · 7 months
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Decided to write a little Lovecraftian-esque horror story for my friend @nevermore-ocs Daxton world. Blade is asked to go check on a fishing town a few hours from daxton that has gone completely dark and nobody can get in touch with anyone there. However what he discovers will shake him to his very core, and he will learn a truth that is better left unknown.
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chaoscrawls · 1 year
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【BASICS】
Name: Hastur Alias: The King in Yellow, The Unspeakable One Pronouns: He/him
【Appearance】
Mortal:
Hair Colour & Style: Long blond almost golden, reaching to below his waist. Is messy on top and around his face, but straight and neatly brushed the further it goes. Eyes Colour: Yellow. Complexion: Pale, with faint bags under his eyes, no other blemishes are noticeable. Height: 6 ft 2 inches
Eldritch:
Usually seen in the form of a large human skeleton wrapped in intricate yellow robes. Under the surface of the bones, there is a pulsing oil-like substance that seems to make up his core. When he speaks in this form his words sound like a whisper, no matter how loud he is speaking.
【Personality】
Positive Traits: Curious, trusting, enthusiastic, family orientated Negative Traits: Impulsive, lazy, tactless, mischievous, fussy
【Abilities】
Teleportation
Liquid shadow
Inducing madness (Passive - Explained in detail further on.)
Amorphous Physiology
【Relations】
Yog-Sothoth - Father - Asleep Cthulhu - Half brother - Asleep Nyarlathotep - Cousin - While Hastur loves and seeks approval from his cousin, the feeling is not reciprocated. Nyar finds him to be a frustrating burden.
【Lore】
Hastur has been a resident of the void for a long time, which can get incredibly lonely when most of your family is in a deep... seemingly endless slumber. It used to be better for him, once upon a time as he was allowed to wander the mortal plain as much as he liked, meeting humans that worshipped his family. That is till all of the cult members he was spending time with started going insane and killing themselves. Deciding that he was no good for the family's goals and the mortal members they were amassing, he was banished back to the void by Nyarlathotep. The mortals were left, only a play with his name and a strange symbol to remember him by.
【Warnings】
When interacting with Hastur he has the passive ability to make mortals go slowly insane in his presence. He has very little control over this power (except the ability to expedite it). The rate at which the insanity takes root depends on what origin the mortal is (human or supernatural) and how often his name is spoken. Other Lovecraftian deities are not affected by this power and there are some creatures that are less susceptible to it and some that are completely immune. Before writing with Hastur I would prefer to speak to the mun about what category their muse will fall under.
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