#coraline? in touch with her emotions? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goobyblob · 7 months

Text

part 1

Caroline. The name struck deep within Chell. She’d always though there was something human to GLaDOS, something uniquely inefficient and suboptimal about her cruelty, something emotional about her movements. Some touch of humanity deep within that core of wires and ports. Something she was sure GLaDOS would deny until her very last bit.

Who was Caroline? From what she’d heard, she was surely dead by now- if you could call whatever happened to her dying. Who was she when she was alive, simply a sweet secretary to a crazed egomaniac?

Did she think about women like Chell? Surely Aperture was a lonely, isolating job. Surely she found some relief on the side. Or maybe not, maybe that snide comment about being married to science rang true. Maybe Caroline considered herself a martyr, sacrificing her lifetime to corralling this beast of a company, of putting out the boss’ fires. Maybe Coraline had bottled up everything she felt, as so many women Chell knew did, into a tight knot in her gut she intended to never brave to the light of day. How Chell wanted to find that knot, to unravel it with her lips and her teeth. Maybe none of this would’ve ever happened if Caroline had someone like Chell.

Maybe. Maybe.

Chell wondered if that part of Caroline still exited in GLaDOS. Chell remembered what happened to Wheatley, how plugging into the sheer power and scale of the facility warped him, changed him. But the Wheatley on the other side, however murderous, cruel, and impatient—it was all already there, within him. The facility didn’t impose itself upon you, it just brought to you your logical extreme. Chell wondered whether she’d only managed to stay moral and true to herself because, at the end of the day, she was only a wimp with a portal gun.

Maybe calling GLaDOS a perversion of Coraline wasn’t fair. Maybe Coraline was a perversion of GLaDOS. Maybe GLaDOS is what Coraline could’ve been, would’ve been. Maybe that’s why she seems omnipotent, but isn’t. The cracks and flaws that ran through Caroline’s mind up until her final moments would only grow as everything else did, turning from slivers to ravines that Chell could tumble and tumble through and never hit the bottom.

Chell found those cracks, once. Twice, even. Found the holes she could slip through, found that squishy vulnerability in her core. Took it between her fingers, squeezed, until the closest thing to God that humanity had managed to create crumbled and shattered underneath her grip. She wished it was more physical, wish GLaDOS had soft flesh she could dig her fingers into, feel the fat pool between her fingers as she squeezed, see the streaks of red blemish follow her nails. GLaDOS would look good like that, she thought. Her mind was a confusing mess, a smear of the massive, cold, plastic GLaDOS she knew, and the soft, pliable, vulnerable GLaDOS she didn’t. She didn’t think those were contradictory, nor did she think GLaDOS had one, but not the other. In her mind, GLaDOS was a gorgeous collection of multitudes, whose details looked incomprehensible upon close inspection but formed a glorious view when seen from afar. Chell dreamed of this GLaDOS. She dreamed of reaching into that perplexing fusion, those fuzzy edges, running her fingers along the seam between steel and flesh, hearing a shuddering moan, half-woman half-machine.

When Chell opened her eyes, she felt tears stick to her eyelashes. She saw the red, unblinking, piercing stare of the camera, and felt the heat of her cunt against her fingertips.

“What? Getting shy now?”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. How could I not? You’re practically prancing about.”

Chell was, notably, laying very still with two blankets firmly tucked over herself. Telling what she was doing would require the close monitoring of specialized, sensitive instruments pointed directly at Chell’s sleeping body.

She should’ve known.

“Out of everything I’ve learned about you, being a pervert is the least surprising. I’ve combed over your test file thousands of times by now. I know what you’ve done.”

Chell almost puffed out her chest at that. Getting up to so much dyke behavior it gets officially recognized by Aperture Science isn’t a feat many could achieve.

“Masturbation is the most banal, utterly confounding human activity I’ve ever seen. It’s as much adrenaline as fighting off a viscous bear with none of the meat or hide as a reward. You just do it. For no reason.”

“I thought you were better than that, you know. I thought you were dedicated to science.”

“So stop it, please. You only have seven hours and fifty minutes left. You’ll be suboptimal tomorrow in the best of cases. Don’t make me drag you out of bed with your pants around your ankles when it’s time to test. Be a sensible adult.”

“You’re not stopping.”

Chell wasn’t, apparently. Somehow, Chell found her back arching and her fingers digging in, the attention to her tender clit itching something within her that had lay dormant for a long, long time. It was the type of itch that just grew as she scratched it, until it unfurled all throughout her body and she could only desperately attempt to satiate it.

“You know I’m still watching, you know. I’m not allowed to stop. So you better stop right now, because I don’t like this at all.”

Sure. Sure she didn’t. The power of god at her fingertips, and she couldn’t look away from this dark, bland room. It was poetic, almost.

Chell kicked her blanket off. It slumped off the bed, and she was bare. The skin felt so good on her skin she new she was flushed, and it was enough to drive another shiver out of her. She didn’t arch her back this time, though. She just kept looking right ahead, at that unassuming red dot. She thought about GLaDOS, on the other side. She thought about Caroline, peering through. Chell didn’t think either of them would be able to look away.

She thought about them watching her fuck herself like this, one hand buried hastily in her boxers. A sweaty, grimy, desperate fucking, the type of raw, primal human stuff GLaDOS knew the least about. Chell wanted to show her. Chell wanted to look into GLaDOS’ eye and see fear. Not at what Chell would do, but what GLaDOS would let Chell do. Chell wanted to reach down to Caroline’s wrist and feel the throbbing heartbeat in her veins. Wanted to feel the fear blooming through her like a poison. Wanted her to know that she’d never be the same after Chell’s touch, and watch her lean in anyway. Chell had tasted that before and it was fucking delicious. It was a high she’d never found elsewhere. Chell wanted to bring God to her knees and make her beg.

part 3

#wlw nsft #nsft wlw #glados #portal #portal 2 #part two huzzah!#actually having so much fun with this

13 notes · View notes

systastic · 2 months

Note

Hi, hi, could I please have a level 3 fear holder based on a chameleon or jellyfish? It's totally up to you on the decision. Thank you so much.

meow has been wanting to make a moon jellyfish inspired alter for awhile… nya hopes u like this!! :3 -🍥

name :: aurora, aura, nadia, luna, layla, isla, iris, jade, pearl, cora (short for coraline)

age :: agehazy, drifts between 15 to 20

pronouns :: she/her, fae/feyr, fleur/fleurs, moon/moons, lu/lun (lunaself)

roles :: drifter, dissociation experiencer, fear holder

species :: humanoid jellyfish

gender identity :: jellicent, sealacean, oceanbeing

orientation :: pansexual

source :: brainmade

aesthetic :: auroracore, pastel, pearly, beach girl

appearance description :: soft to the touch at first, like a plush pillow that one can sink into, but can be deadly if attempting to touch her without explicit consent. fleurs touch can shock others — which results in a tendency to avoid contact with other people out of the fear that they’ll be hurt. fleur can often be found drawing or sketching anything fleur finds interesting enough, especially things that relate to undersea life and things that float among the clouds. layla’s favorite thing to draw is jellyfish and cloud puffs — which, given moons species, isn’t all that surprising.

personality description :: gentle, timid, and soft-spoken, lu is a dreamer and idealist with her head permanently in the clouds. she often gets carried away with her imagination, and struggles to find her footing back in reality. dragging nadia back down from her musings hurts both lun and any other headmates who are involved. fae runs from any sort of conflict and instead chooses to stick her head in the sand to drown out pains and sorrows. luna believes that by holding onto the fear of the system and being a martyr moon is helping moons system — though in reality, it’s actually hurting them by refusing to accept the fear moon holds.

likes :: drifting in the vast ocean, taking life slow and steady, going with the flow, daydreaming, cloud watching, fantasizing, the sounds of the sea, coral reefs, sea life, warm water, marine biology, and other jellyfish

dislikes :: things that are set in stone, harsh touches, sharp facts, cold waters, freezing temperatures, being without water for too long, having to talk to strangers, facing her fears, dealing with her emotions, and being grounded

front triggers :: the sound of lapping water, feeling ocean waves move the collective body, ethereal aesthetics, being dissociated from the world around her, dreamy/otherworldy vibes

signoff :: 🪼, 🎏, 🌊, or 🪸

image source here

#banner creds: @kaitsawamura #alter packs #baa blog #bah blog #build a alter #build a headmate #build an alter #headmate creation #headmate pack #kitty creations #level three #level 3

6 notes · View notes

be-gay-find-cryptids · 6 days

Text

(Part 1) Film & TV Recommendations for Halloween

1. Over the Garden Wall (Miniseries, 2014)

Over the Garden Wall features two half-brothers, Wirt and Gregory, who have become lost in a mysterious wood called The Unknown and attempt to find their way back home.

...

This beautifully crafted animated miniseries is the best thing to come out of Cartoon Network even after ten years. The unique atmosphere, which blends fairytale charm with Gothic eeriness, perfectly compliments the early 20th-century Americana-styled animation. At just ten episodes, Over the Garden Wall is a short but impactful experience that lingers with you long after it ends. I highly recommend this series.

2. Coraline (Film, 2009)

Wandering her rambling old house in her boring new town, an 11-year-old Coraline discovers a hidden door to a strangely idealized version of her life.

...

This stop-motion animated film is a deeply unsettling and visually stunning experience. Blending a dark fairytale narrative with otherworldly imagery, it presents itself as a psychological horror for young and older audiences alike. Coraline explores the complex ideas about family, identity, and the dangers of wish fulfillment with grace. I strongly recommend this film.

3. ParaNorman (Film, 2012)

Norman Babcock, a young boy who can communicate with ghosts, is given the task of ending a 300-year-old witch's curse on his Massachusetts town.

...

This heartfelt stop-motion animated film blends humor, horror, and themes of ostracization and acceptance. While blending classic horror movie tropes with a coming-of-age story, it manages to portray strong themes of prejudice by using zombies, witches, and ghoulish imagery. If you're looking for a unique spin on classic B-movie horror, I highly recommend this film.

4. Happy Death Day (Film, 2017)

A college student must relive the day of her murder over and over again in a loop that will end only when she discovers her killer's identity.

...

Happy Death Day is an entertaining mashup of slasher horror and Groundhog Day-style time loop storytelling. This film stands out from all the rest of the horror-comedy franchise due to its emotion, mystery, and character growth. While it doesn't push boundaries for horror, it makes up for its uniqueness that balances humor and suspense. If you're looking for a horror-comedy film, I strongly recommend this one.

5. Jennifer's Body (Film, 2009)

A newly-possessed high-school cheerleader turns into a succubus who kills her male classmates and devours their flesh in order to survive.

...

Though it was sorely misunderstood when it originally came out, it has recently garnered rightful attention for its subversive take on the horror-comedy genre. This film blends teen drama and supernatural horror and uses its genre to touch upon the objectification of women in horror and in reality. Its wit, self-awareness, and social commentary have made it a standout in the horror-comedy genre, and for that, I strongly recommend this film.

6. Sinister: Recut (Film, 2012)

Ellison Oswalt is a struggling true-crime writer whose discovery of snuff films depicting gruesome murders and strange supernatural elements in his new house puts his family in danger.

...

Said to be one of the scariest films ever from a research study, Sinister is a deeply unsettling horror movie that perfectly mixes supernatural elements with psychological tension. The haunting score combined with the grainy, nightmarish footage of the murders results in an unnerving experience that sits with you long after you turn the lights out. Instead of watching the original movie, I strongly recommend this fanedit version of the film. It elevates the movie by removing some of the cheesy jumpscares and awkward dialog. If you're looking for a genuinely haunting movie this Halloween, I recommend this one.

7. 1408 (Film, 2007)

Author Michael Enslin, who specializes in debunking paranormal occurrences, checks into the fabled room 1408 in the Dolphin Hotel in New York City.

...

This film excels in building suspense, using minimal special effects, and relying on our main characters' isolation and psychological unraveling to create fear. While this movie isn't as overtly terrifying as other horror films, 1408 offers an eerie, slow-burn experience, blending supernatural elements with personal trauma. The film has two different endings, the theatrical version and the director's cut. I'd suggest watching both to come to the conclusion of your favorite. It's a must-watch for fans of psychological horror, and I strongly recommend this film.

8. Midsommar (Film, 2019)

A couple travels to Northern Europe to visit a rural hometown's fabled Swedish mid-summer festival. What begins as an idyllic retreat quickly devolves into an increasingly violent and bizarre competition at the hands of a pagan cult.

...

This is a visually stunning and disturbing horror film set against the backdrop of a bright, idyllic Swedish village. The movie stands out for its unique approach to horror, unfolding almost entirely in daylight, creating a sense of unease through its striking visuals, unnerving atmosphere, and slow-building dread. Midsommar is a polarizing piece of media, mixing folk horror with psychological drama, and is filled with symbolism and unsettling imagery. I highly recommend this film if you're looking to be disturbed this Halloween.

9. Skinamarink (Film, 2022)

A young brother and sister wake up during the night to discover that their father is missing and that the windows, doors, and other objects in their house have vanished.

...

Skinamarink is an experimental analog horror film that trades traditional narrative for a surreal, nightmarish atmosphere. Shot in grainy, low-light cinematography, the film immerses you in a disorienting and eerie world where fear of the unknown takes center stage. The film’s strength lies in its ability to evoke childhood fears, using abstract visuals and unsettling sound design to create a sense of dread. However, its unconventional approach may alienate some people who expect a clear plot or resolution. The minimal dialogue and deliberate pacing make Skinamarink more of a mood piece than a traditional horror film, relying on atmosphere over jump scares. For those willing to embrace its experimental nature, Skinamarink offers a haunting and disquieting experience that lingers long after it ends, tapping into primal fears of isolation and helplessness. For all these reasons, I highly recommend that you check out this film.

10. Heck (Short Film, 2020)

A child wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of his mom's television blaring.

...

Heck is a short film that shares a similar atmospheric approach to the creator's feature-length film Skinamarink. Like Skinamarink, it explores the feeling of being trapped in a surreal, dreamlike space. The film's minimalist aesthetic, with grainy visuals and a haunting soundscape, creates a disorienting atmosphere that leaves much to the imagination. It builds tension through its slow pacing, relying on the viewer's discomfort with the unknown rather than traditional horror tropes. For people who thought Skinamarink's runtime was excessive, Heck is a great substitute that captures the same atmosphere of the former. I highly recommend this film to people who have enjoyed Skinamarink's take on horror.

6 notes · View notes

xaharadesert · 9 months

Text

7 More of My Favourite Horror (Adjacent) Movies and Why You Should Watch Them

(Not in any particular order or subgenre. TW are vague, spoiler free, and from my memory, but you should Google any of these before you watch them. Not all triggers are listed because it’s horror and stuff like death and murder is common)

Part 1 here!

1. Fractured

A man waits in a hospital for his daughter and wife to return from some tests, but they seem to have gone missing.

If you like being sad and also confused (like me), then this is a great film for you! Don’t worry, the end will clear things up, but until then you’ll have a hundred of your own theories developing. Definitely a movie that you have to pay attention to, but it’s not difficult once the mystery begins.

Scary: 1/10

Gore: 2/10

Disturbing: 4/10

Psychological: 9/10

Actual genre: psychological thriller

TW: insanity

2. The House

An animated anthology of three short films all centring around the same house.

Gorgeous animation, fast paced, and constantly off-putting. Each of the short films is vastly different, but they’re all very unsettling in their own way. The second was my personal favourite, but I’d say the first was the most disturbing. The third one is a nice way to ease you out of the absolute horror of the first two so you can go about your day without letting the film consume your thoughts.

Scary: 3/10, 3/10, 1/10

Gore: 0/10, 0/10, 0/10

Disturbing: 6/10, 5/10, 2/10

Psychological: 3/10, 4/10, 2/10

Actual genre: horror comedy

3. I Saw The Devil

After a man’s wife is brutally murdered, he puts his life on hold to hunt down the killer and make him suffer.

As far as non-horror movies go, this is by far one of the most disturbing. The murderer is one of the worst you’ll see play an extended part in the movie, which would be awful if it weren’t for the fact that most of the film is the protagonist purposely letting the killer get away just so he can hunt him down and attack him again. The protagonist isn’t an objectively good character either, but there is something very satisfying about watching him take out his extended revenge.

Scary: 3/10

Gore: 7/10

Disturbing: 7/10

Psychological: 3/10

Actual genre: action thriller

TW: rape, sexual assault, graphic gore, cannibalism

4. Hard Candy

A 14 year old girl decides to meet up alone with an older man she met on the internet and go to his house.

Elliott Page my beloved. One of his earlier works, but still amazing. I’m not sure if these one really qualifies as horror, as it’s definitely more of a revenge fantasy, but the first 20 or so minutes had me very worried. Definitely an unsettling atmosphere, but after the first little bit it’s absolutely amazing. Would recommend to anyone, but especially to women who are tired of seeing other women and girls victimized by the narrative.

Scary: 2/10

Gore: 2/10

Disturbing: 4/10

Psychological: 3/10

Actual genre: psychological thriller

TW: pedophilia, surgery, suicide

5. Last Night in Soho

A young girl rents a room while off at college and starts dreaming of the life of the girl who lived there before her in the 60s.

This movie made me cry more than once (but in a good way). I genuinely forgot it was a horror movie for the first 45 minutes or so, and then was very rudely reminded. Gives off the same vibes as Coraline, but in a more adult sense. Absolutely gorgeous cinematography and the character arcs make me feel so many emotions. Also it has Matt Smith, and that immediately sold me on it. Another movie I would recommend especially to women.

Scary: 3/10

Gore: 3/10

Disturbing: 6/10

Psychological: 8/10

Actual genre: psychological horror

TW: rape, prostitution, suicide, insanity

6. As the Gods Will

Every high schooler in Japan is abducted by aliens and made to compete in murder games to determine who is the most worthy.

Absolutely batshit insane movie with some of the weirdest… everything. Genuinely hilarious at times, but also immensely gory and occasionally heart touching. I urge you to go into this with zero expectations. Just have fun. Probably the type of movie to watch with your friends when you’re drunk, or alone at 3am when you’re sleep deprived.

Scary: 2/10

Gore: 6/10

Disturbing: 5/10

Psychological: 3/10

Actual genre: supernatural horror

7. Tusk

A podcaster visits an old man’s remotely located home to interview him.

OKAY HEAR ME OUT. I know this made the rounds on TikTok for being awful, but it’s seriously one of my favourite. Also batshit insane, but with a perfect blend of comedy, psychological horror, and really creepy practical effects. There’s no one to root for in this film; everyone is awful. But seriously, a great movie to watch if you have no expectations. I’ve seen it 3 times. Also, oddly specific, but I feel like if you like Angel’s of Death for the psychological aspects, then you’ll like this too.

Scary: 3/10

Gore: 2/10

Disturbing: 6/10

Psychological: 4/10

Actual genre: body horror comedy

#horror #horror movies #horror movie recommendations

7 notes · View notes

seerofmike · 1 year

Note

ask meme: 5, 6, 7, 13, 14, 20

5. Share one of your strengths.

everyone has always told me that i write invidiual character voices very well. i try to make narration and dialogue distinct and i think i do a great job!

my vantage is completely different from my crypto who is completely different from my octane, and on the surface octane may look like he'd share the same narrative voice as leo from rise but my leo rise voice is different from octane's and ohg i just love writing how different characters would describe things or percieve situations.

i do want to give a special shout out to my vantage from my mad science fic. i don't care for her character that much but writing her was so fun and judging by the reception i got from it when posted people really enjoyed her character voice too.

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

scene-setting, environmental description, action. god this problem plagues me when reading, writing, AND drawing. i simply cannot picture where characters are or what they're doing or how they're having this conversation, sitting down or standing up. in my brain, everything takes place with characters standing around in a white void until something happens in the environment. visually it looks like that one scene in coraline. you know the one

here's how my fic writing process goes. dialogue, emotion and feelings and shit, basic plot action like going to the next necessary location, or maybe a super important event, or the set-up and punchline to a non-verbal joke. then i go back and add like 1k-2k words of just...setting. description. action. response. reaction. physical action. THEN i go over it again for like actual editing and proofreading

i can give you an example right now of what i mean

everything highlighted here was not what was originally written and was added later so the scene would be more than just "he said/he said" and maybe it's because i'm the one who wrote it but like...you can tell it was tacked on.

i'm trying to get better at this and started drawing a storyboard for my current rottmnt fic because that one relies on action more than introspection and dialogue, but if u ever ask me to describe a location...girl i would need 30 minutes to think about it

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

umm...this one is kind of hard actually i don't really remember specific pieces of prose i write outside of dialogue!! if i had to pick it would be maybe this specific bit from chapter five of my simulacrum Crypto AU, Four Oh Three:

this is way more than a snippet lmao but writing this entire chapter was super satisfying with everything i'd set up so far. crypto not knowing if he actually felt attraction to octane or if his feelings were just the lingering result of his programming, trying to figure out what he could feel, IF he could feel, octane touching him and inviting him to touch him in turn, all the conflicting emotions that came with that.

i really felt at the time that it all really came together in a very drawn-out but deserved scene of intimacy (nearly the whole chapter?) after the result of like uhhh 30,000+ words of tension that i don't think i've ever really written before or since. i usually like to get straight into the dick in hole action lmfao but i was very satisfied and proud of myself for this one

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

so this isn't even writing advice it's programming advice LOL but several years ago i heard of rubber duck debugging in which programmers tell a rubber duck their code line by line until they realize what's causing them a problem. and ever since, for lengthy fics or things outside my comfort zone, i've described overarching plot details and invidiual chapters to either stuffed animals or my cat and if it sounds stupid being said out-loud then i usually decide it'd be stupid and nonsensical in a fic too and i change it up LOL

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

controversial opinion maybe but i think telling people that every scene in a book should only serve the narrative/plot is STUPID!!!!!!!!!!!! books aren't movies, you don't have a runtime limit!!! i think you lose out on so much character and introspection and world-building by forcing every scene in your book to only be plot-relevant stuff. sometimes characters interacting with each other and doimg stuff in their world is just fun or interesting and that's all it has to be

20.) Describe your perfect writing conditions.

i have my headphones plugged in and am listening to my music. the chair is comfy and i can lean back but my laptop is on a solid surface. i am supplied endlessly with coffee and fizzy drinks. all is well

3 notes · View notes

lamentingocean · 1 year

Text

[Sharing some highlights and things about myself that is in a form of writing]

the lack of empathy, the soft grass of an empty spotland, feeling a lack of emotion but stitching a smile on a face like a reference to coraline. I slowly touch the interactive grass. It moves like natural being humbled by earth. wishing peace would never end since she never felt real peace.

she stood up, the scent of strawberry pound cake withered around her. the feeling of loneliness didn't consume and manifest inside her. but it became a part of her like a personal.

the sounds of yelling and truama of being dragging along the abyss of anger and revenge is consuming her mind. she was angry. So angry.

The memories played in her head like a blurry VHS tape. running at recess, putting on her hoodie after playing and hanging out with people, the dark day, the rain. the rampaging steps of my childhood bully running after me.

Pushing me.

Putting me into a traumatic memory that I'll never forget.

the blood.

The drooping blood.

it falls onto the debris and dirt of the ground.

tears flooded my eyes.

I couldn't think because of the stinging pain.

My arm.

My arm was bleeding.

Dragging onto the ground after he pushed to when I slid, I couldn't see anything. only the rain was what I could see. the yelling of teachers corrupted my ears. I couldn't move.

carried to the nurse's office when the bell was heard from across the school, classes started.

I cried and cried. from that memory.

I raised my hand up at the sky of the spotland, trying not to let my tears flood my face,

Anger.

a knife spawned at the spotland's grass. I slowly grab it thinking about the possibilities of killing him.

My childhood bullies.

I remember something else.

The laughter he had for my outraged kid self. I screamed at him. Nobody cared. sitting in the back of the classroom after my outraged self calmed down.

The chaos of the classroom.

nobody cared about me. nobody sat next to me at lunch. It was like a crushing feeling of loneliness for the last time. the embodiment of loneliness screamed at my face.

Possible Crime.

I looked at the knife as if it's looking at me, crush him, mutilate him, torture him, lock him in his high school and give him truama like he did to me back.

it's like a mental issue isn't it?

No. I want to serve my right to hurt him. I want to hurt him since nobody else is going to give him the karma he needs to apologize for what he did.

The anger raged inside.

I let out a scream, hoping someone would find it and help me, "Get over it"

"Get over it"

trying so much for people to not check and worry about you because you're always smiling and happy with people and everyone you hang out online.

It's tirelessly exhausting.

It hurts.

smiling hurts now.

soft hearted.

claiming to take every single insult people tell you is like getting hurt in a boss, and you have infinite hp to take it all. I don't want to be a crybaby. I don't want to be found sensitive. I don't want to be found weak.

crying if someone yells at you, finds you weak.

I don't want to be this way.

Sobbing.

It clenchs the heart to cry. even though people would or would not care. Multiple times. room, bathroom, floor, living room, all of it.

Sometimes, it be the little things.

Sometimes, it becomes a big issue.

Sometimes, it becomes a massive problem.

Thinking it's all my fault.

Thinking that I didn't do anything that did contribute to this problem.

I fall on the grass, tears still holding my cheek, I clench up into a ball. thinking that someone is going to cuddle with me, one last memory.

Emotional.

almost hitting a little kid, emotional outbursts, anger turns into crying, punching a wall multiple times, holding it all in. just so I can be ok for my family and for my online and in real life friends.

-End Real Life Tape-

[....I don't really know If this counts as ROTMD or not. But someone can share their opinion about this and me...I don't mind]

#vent tag #jaha lee #return of the crazy demon #return of the mad demon #webtoon #광마회귀

6 notes · View notes

vvventanni · 2 years

Text

You ever get emotional when a song comes up that you’ve heard live?

Coraline by Måneskin just came on in my shuffle and I just got thrown back in the moment man. Hearing Damiano sing that right in front of me. I was mouthing the lyrics as best as I could and I think I had tears going down my face and ill never forget Victoria in front of me looking at me and making eye contact with me. She looked at me like she was so touched that someone who didn’t understand Italian still connected to the song and knew it’s importance.

(Okay that’s all interpretation and I could be delusional but) idk Victoria looked at me so many times during this song with this expression on her face I can’t describe. It was so beautiful and haunting. We nodded to each other with somber faces as I mouthed the lyrics at her and I just ah. 😭😭😭😭😭

#måneskin #im crazy I know #but I swear on my life me and Vic connected in that moment as a fan 😂#she was so so so sweet and we danced together and got in each others faces partying and ahhhhhhhhhh #I may be a mostly stranger things blog but my username is a må song sooooo

2 notes · View notes

noahsbookhoard · 21 days

Text

📚February 2024 Book Review (Part 3/3)📚

The final three books of February! Not much to say as an introduction except a quick disclaimer: I read Coraline (as well as American Gods later this year) before the accusation against Neil Gaiman had been made public. I do not condone sexual assault and have since taken my distance with his work. Coraline is included here since I had already read it, but if it make anyone uncomfortable feel free to contact me and I'll remove the review altogether.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman

Coraline has just moved into a new, wierd, old house. With her parents busy with work she is left on her own to explore it until one passage led her to another brighter, happier version of her home with a caring, loving mother which looks just like her own, only with buttons for eyes. But as nice as it seems, this Other Mother might not have the best mind for Coraline

It took years between the first time I started watching the film adaptation and the time I watch the end of it. Much like Spirited Away it was too scary for sensitive 9 year old me.

Therefore it took years before I learned that it was based on a book and since I heard everywhere that the book was scarier than the film I postponed the reading for a really really long time. It might be that I am far less sensitive to horror in written form or that I was a little too old but it didn't find it that scary.

The anticlimax made the read experience... not disappointing but less thrilling than it might have been: It wasn't nightmare inducing but there is tension and suspense and a strange atmosphere which pulls you in. I love a good twist on a fairy tale classic and the Passage To A Magic World But Wrong works really well here. The Other Mother grows more off putting the longer the story goes, I have to admit she creeps me out!

Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes

Algernon is a mice which has undergone a new type of surgery to increased his intelligence. After this succes, Charlie Gordon, a mentally disabled man, is the first human subject to undergo the same treatment. His story is told through the diary that marks his progress and Algernon's, until one day Algernon starts declining: what does it means for Charlie?

As much as possible I try to read book by English speaking author in English but this one intrigued me at the public library so french translation it is!

This is a really emotional story: the title is the saddest part but you don't know it until the very end of the book. It has a really clean symmetrical construction and once I reached the peak and realised where it was going I couldn't help but think I should have expected it. This is a tragedy of the "It was always going to end this way" kind.

I had to excuse the not very ethical jump from one (1) successful test on a mice in the last few weeks to human subject, but it asks some really interesting questions on the treatment of disabilities, especially mental ones and n what intelligence can or can't bring to someone. Charlie's description of his inner "less intelligent" self and it's struggle to fight him and later accept him touched me deeply.

Paradoxically the thing that made the book so interesting: The story is directly from Charlie's point of view and use diary entries to show his progress (he describes it, but the improvement of his spelling, grammar, and vocabulary really makes it feel real). But as time passes and Charlie becomes a genius he grows apart from people around him (some he needed to cut out of his life, some he drove away) and he becomes condescending, cold, altogether not a very likable. As a reader I felt pity for him but he doesn't want it from other characters so like them I felt kinda uneasy. I softened as the end grew nearer but the middle part wasn't all that fun to read.

I don't want to end on a bad notr because it wasn't a bad read! It's a rather short one too so go ahead, it deserves your time!

Et à la fin ils meurent by Lou Lubie

The version of popular fairy tales we know today are often really softened versions of the original. Lou Lubie trace them back for us with a bit of blood and a lot of humour.

I hadn't realised I read that many comic book in February! This last one is in french and more educational: it is a research on the history of fairy tales and how much more violent and dark they were in earlier versions, long before Disney.

The author also asks the interesting of the "original" version of fairy tales? How do you pinpoint the first form of an oral story? If a similar story exist earlier in another culture should it be considered more original than the occidental Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault? (I actually discovered that some version of Cinderella existed as a Chinese tale). Like any academic worth the title she has found lots of sources and cites them, so I trust

However it is also really funny : I still remember the panel with Bluebeard holding a traveller pigeon to his ear like a cellphone! This makes it the most entertaining essay I've read ever.

Unfortunately I don't think it had been translated in English but I'd you speak even a little french (it is not a hard read) check it out to learn some funny/bloody anecdotes on fairy tales!

#bookblr #book review #books #daniel keyes #flowers for algernon #lou lubie #fairy tales #et à la fin ils meurent

0 notes

samethyst01 · 8 months

Text

A Mother's Love: Chapter Five

“Mom, why can’t I go explore right away?”

“Coraline, we need time to get settled. It’s a new start for us, and it’s going to be a little tough to acclimatise.”

“Why don’t you come help me set up my work things in the study?”

“Okay…”

Like a jolt of electricity, the memories from thirteen years ago flooded into Coraline the moment she touched the wall. Every step taken was another look into the past, every surface a sudden burst of emotions and nostalgia. There was that carpet that refused to stay flat, the leaky boiler room with mysteriously labelled switches, the damp on the walls, the mould in the corner of the ceiling. Around the corner was her father’s office, still dreary and drab, though with a considerable upgrade to both its hardware and its software.

The kitchen was the same too, and she could smell the distinct aroma of cooked meat from the oven. Lunch was on the way. Upstairs, the bathroom was far cleaner than the insect-swarmed days of old, new tiles added to the walls and an updated shower curtain with pink and yellow floral patterns. Coraline turned the tap and out poured crystal clear water. Her parents’ bedroom was quite similar to how it used to be, plain duvet covers and plain curtains and the same framed pictures of the three of them together on vacation. It was a comforting familiarity.

Coraline’s father had helped bring her luggage up into her room, and the two had shared an awkward hug before he excused himself downstairs, giving her some time to adjust. The place hadn’t changed much since she left, all her toys and stuffed animals still hibernating in the large trunk, the picture of her and her school friends back in Pontiac still resting face-up on her bedside table. There were a couple posters she had added in the preceding years after moving in, mostly Adventure Time and Avatar: The Last Airbender. She ran a finger across them and felt like a kid again.

After unpacking, she collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the cracked ceiling. She was surprised not to feel so afraid of her home, the core of her trauma, but her motivation to kill that which haunted her overshadowed her fear of it. At least, it did for the moment. She turned onto her side and for a brief moment, so brief she must’ve imagined it, she swore she could’ve seen that damn little doll again. Her eyes refocused and that horrible flash of yellow and blue was gone.

She growled softly to herself, frustrated with these apparent visions. She needed to be absolutely centred for her plan to work, a plan that had barely even come to fruition in her mind. Getting to Ashland was the first hurdle, and she had managed that. And then… she shuddered at what she had to do next. Next, she had to open that door. The door in the living room, once hidden before being unlocked by her younger, more naïve self. She had no key, having tossed it down the well, so she would have to improvise.

After that… what then? If she could somehow reopen the portal, would that give the Beldam exactly what she wanted? Would it give her a way to escape the Other World, or perhaps just a path straight to Coraline, the unfinished meal she had let slip from her grasp thirteen years ago? Regardless, opening that door would also reopen all the horrors Coraline had tried to bury, and once and for all, she would have to end the Beldam’s story. She had never killed before, not that the witch was any more human than an insect, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy.

The Beldam might not have been at her strongest, but that guaranteed nothing. Even in her weakened, arachnid form, she was still otherworldly, horrific, and entirely twisted by the fabric of the Other World. Whatever monster she was, wherever she came from, and whomever she had been before it all, it was imperative she died before Coraline left Ashland, and stayed dead. She would have to make sure of it, burn the body if she had to, douse it in holy water, gather every priest in the country to exorcise it of evil and confirm, absolutely, that the Beldam was nothing more than a husk.

After staring at the ceiling for what felt like an hour, Coraline sat up and changed into some more comfortable clothes. They were more suited to her younger self, fit for treacherous gardening and exploration into the unknown. She headed for the door and looked back at all her things, many of them still inside the big chest in the corner. She raised her finger.

“If I see any of you turn into buttons… there’s going to be trouble.”

******

A friend at college had once told Coraline that chicken was as bad for her as red meat, because of the conditions most chickens are subjected to in battery farms. She argued that the trauma they suffered directly linked to their quality after death, which was pretty odd, since battery farmed chicken was likely to be processed anyway. Coraline always found that girl so strange, even considering all the bizarre events of her own life, and she would always remember her, even after graduating.

The thought popped into her head when her mother laid out the meal before her, roast chicken and potatoes, with vegetables straight from the garden and homemade gravy. It looked positively divine, and was a far cry from the less than appetising meals she received back in the day.

“She wouldn’t let me make something.”

Her father chuckled as he adjusted his glasses and sat down. Coraline smiled, and studied the man for a moment. There was something about him that seemed slightly off. He hadn’t aged a day, his complexion still the same pasty grey, his glasses a little lopsided, his hair messy, still wearing one of his Michigan jerseys. It had been six years and he hadn’t grown any older. He looked far more tired, for sure, but that meant relatively little when compared to his physical appearance. It was like time had stopped around the Pink Palace.

“I wanted to treat Coraline, not torture her!”

Her mother sat down opposite them. She, too, appeared to have stayed the same. Obviously she wasn’t wearing her neck brace anymore – that came off when her injury had healed – but she was still wearing the same knitted sweater, with bags under her eyes and slightly greasy hair. Their perfect agelessness was unsettling, in a way, as if the house and maybe all of Ashland was in stasis. Coraline was the only one who had changed. Was it because she was the only one who left?

“This is perfect, you guys… thank you.”

“It’s been so long since we last saw you. You didn’t even call.”

Her father poured himself a glass of water, and a twinge of guilt spread through her body. She hadn’t called. Why hadn’t she called? Six years had gone by and not even once had she made the effort. Why? She must’ve tried, at least once, surely… so why couldn’t she remember? Her mother didn’t say anything, just picked up her cutlery and began to eat. Coraline sighed exasperatedly.

“It’s complicated, dad.”

“Complicated how? I mean, come on, I can understand a call once every couple weeks, a month at most, but six years? The only reason we knew you were still alive was because Wybie at least had the decency to talk to us!”

There was a tense silence around the table for a few moments. Coraline’s mother, usually the more outspoken of her parents, was silently staring at her plate as she ate from it. Her father’s face was twisted in confusion and dismay, as if the answers he so desperately needed were just always out of reach. Coraline mustered up her courage before facing the truth.

“I’m sorry… I really should’ve called, but… but I couldn’t face it. Not after everything that happened.”

At her words, her father’s confusion only worsened, and he looked to his wife for answers. She just gave him a sideways glance and shrugged. He turned back to Coraline and stared at her expectantly.

“What are you talking about?”

Coraline sighed heavily and began eating at a rapid pace, muttering between mouthfuls.

“You wouldn’t understand…”

Her father made a noise of frustration before looking down at his food in defeat.

“No… I guess I wouldn’t.”

Her mother looked to be on the verge of tears. Coraline felt terribly guilty, but she couldn’t bring herself to spill everything that had happened thirteen years ago, especially now that she couldn’t even trust her own memories. She had been certain that she called. But it seemed she was as neglectful as her parents had been all those years ago, which, in a way, led to the events that sparked everything. The guilt didn’t go away, but it was muffled as Coraline thought of something that might spark some memories in her parents.

“Do you remember the little door in the living room?”

Her mother raised her eyebrows.

“The one you were obsessed with? What about it?”

“First of all, I wasn’t obsessed with it. Second of all, I just wondered if it was still there.”

By this time everyone had finished eating, so Coraline’s father stood up and began tidying their plates away, putting them on the tabletop to be cleaned momentarily.

“Well, of course it’s still there. I was thinking about knocking down the bricks at one point but the key disappeared ages ago.”

Coraline tensed slightly. If her mother or father had torn open that door, God only knows what might’ve come of it. She had never tried to knock those bricks down, and if she had, what exactly would she find? An empty space? Another portal? It likely didn’t matter, as the door was closed and locked and there was no way to enter through it. The well was the only accessible portal, and to get down there would take some considerable effort. She hadn’t exactly planned for that eventuality, but she’d figure it out somehow.

“I never got to see it, this mystery brick wall.”

Her father commented as he opened the fridge and brought out a cheesecake. Her mother leaned in slightly and lowered her voice, which was rather unlike her. Her hand gently gripped Coraline’s, who looked back at her mother with a perplexed expression.

“Did something happen with that door? Is that what you meant?”

There was something about the way her mother said that that unsettled Coraline. Did she know something? And the look in her eyes was feverish, filled with fresh terror, but it lasted only a second. After that second, it was gone, and her mother was just back to being a worried parent. Coraline shook her head.

“It’s nothing, mom. I was just curious.”

Her mother nodded amicably and her father sat back down, cutting each of them a slice of cheesecake. Coraline glanced out the window and for a second so brief that it might as well have been quicker than a blink, she saw a figure in the distant mist.

She wondered if exploring outside was the best idea after all.

*******

In the absence of rain, Coraline felt comfortable venturing outside. The mists had barely parted, but

There was a convenient path laid out for her along the edge of the garden. The air was cold, so she

had wrapped a coat around herself for warmth. It wasn’t her old yellow coat, the one that had grown

far too large for her, but she imagined herself wearing it. The thought gave her a bit of comfort. She

wasn’t wearing her swampers either, her whole aesthetic having shifted ever since she left Ashland.

Wybie always said he missed it, but Coraline explained to him that it was just a little too strange for

her. Besides, it’s not like she had ran out of colour, she had just taken a more subtle approach.

As the path curled, Coraline could make out the edges of the garden, dead plants scattered about the plot in droves and the cobbled ground cracked in several places. This place had always been a bit of a mystery to her. In the Other World, the witch had moulded it to look like her “daughter’s” face, that sickening display just another of her ploys to get Coraline to love her, and fall in love with the world she made. In the real world, though, it still retained her shape, and the resemblance it bore most, oddly enough, was her real mother. She had considered this for a time, as she had so many details about her past, and eventually came to the conclusion that it must have been constructed to resemble the original owner.

Coraline had done some research on the Pink Palace since her departure from it. Apparently, it had been built as Ashland was being settled in 1852, and it was built for the town’s founder, an unnamed woman who was thought to be a seamstress. Very little was known about this woman, and the only details the records showed was that she lived alone, and had no children. Coraline had done a lot of thinking to go alongside her research, and as much as she theorised about how this woman could have some connection to the Beldam, or might possibly have been her before she found or made the Other World, it ultimately didn’t matter.

Whatever humanity that thing might’ve had at one point in time, over a hundred and fifty years ago, it was anything but human now. There was no way to appeal to its better nature, its mercy, for a predator has naught but hunger, and its prey cannot bargain with it. The only escape is death, the death of the victim or the monster. Coraline wasn’t planning on dying, but she knew she’d have to adapt her strategy if she wanted to kill the Beldam. If starvation wasn’t enough, she’d behead her, dismember her, burn her alive, whatever it took to be sure she was permanently gone.

As she circled around the house, Coraline suddenly felt droplets of rain hitting her face. She looked up just in time to see the downpour begin, torrential and mighty, and with a quick step she sheltered herself under the house’s porch. That put a damper on her plans to explore, and she could already see mud beginning to form on the ground. She sighed heavily and stomped back inside, shaking off the rainwater and running her hands through her hair. Instead of going out, she would probably just have to sit in her room and strategize.

Things were still awkward with her parents from lunch, and Coraline couldn’t help but have this distinctive, almost acidic feeling that something was not quite right with them. Or, perhaps, it was with her. The guilt of not having called for so long was eating at her, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d been so callous. If there was a call, nobody could remember it. Biting her inner cheek, she headed upstairs and flopped onto her bed, after tugging off her boots and throwing them to the side. She was getting back into her old habits.

She spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about what to do when she crossed the tunnel, and before she knew it, it was already time for bed. She undressed and put on her pyjamas, before brushing her teeth and checking on her parents. Their bedroom door was closed. She sighed in disappointment and returned to her room, tucking herself in. What a strange feeling it was to miss them when they were only a room away. They must’ve felt just as awkward as she had. All she wanted, though, was to diffuse that tension with a hug and tell them how sorry she was.

Without the Cat to keep her company, Coraline simply clicked off her light, rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. Sleep would bring respite, or at the very least, it would prove to be a convenient transition from that day to the next. She found herself pondering on how strange sleep was, like a form of time travel filled with hallucinations, and that pondering sufficiently knocked her out. She entered into a deep, dreamless slumber, floating in a placid ocean of void, endless and stretching out in every direction until the end of time and space itself.

******

Coraline awoke in the wee hours of the morning, which was not really morning at all, still dominated by the dark and the night. What woke her was a subtle scratching sound at the window, and she thought for a moment that the Cat had finally arrived to talk with her about her plans. But when she tried to sit up, or roll over, or even move her hand, she found herself quite incapable. Her eyes widened and she tried again to move, only to find herself completely frozen, her eyes the single functioning body part. Was this… sleep paralysis?

She’d heard about the condition before, and was sure she’d never suffered from it, and never could, yet here she was. Her eyes darted over to the window to try and make out the source of the ever-loudening scratching, only to find no Cat outside her window. Instead, a long, needle-like object was carving something into the glass, slowly and inexorably, one letter at a time. Coraline’s breathing intensified as she could make out a word in the window, sliced delicately into it by that old horror she was sure she had destroyed and drowned at the bottom of the well.

Screaming wouldn’t help, and she couldn’t even open her mouth, a dull whimpering noise echoing behind her paralysed lips. Nothing worked, she couldn’t even shut her eyes to stop the nightmare from invading her. When the monster hand’s work was finished, a shadow slipped across the wall and Coraline felt cold, sharp points drag across her scalp, a quiet snickering filling the silence left behind by the scratching’s departure. It was all she could do not to die of fright on the spot, her eyes slowly focusing on the window and realising that the word carved into it was ‘darling’.

She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t cry out. She couldn’t fight off the evil. All she could do was lie still, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as a shape began to loom over her. She knew what it was. Its long body stretched down, past the foot of the bed, its carapace twitching in staccato and its arachnid limbs pinning her in place. She couldn’t see its face yet, still shrouded in darkness, but she felt a metallic hand brush against her cheek and tuck strands of hair behind her ear. It raised up and gently poked her on the nose, and in the shadows she could make out a luminous, jagged smile filled with nothing but hungry malice.

There was a moment of quiet terror, where all was still, and Coraline prayed that her torture would end. That moment seemed to stretch into eternity. Then, at the height of agony, the shape leaned down towards her and the Beldam’s cracked porcelain face came into view, her button eyes sewn back into place and gleaming in the low light. That horrific grin began to part, and Coraline felt something like breath against her nose, the stench of sawdust and mould overcoming everything. And then the Beldam spoke.

“See you soon.”

Coraline lurched upwards with a scream, control over her body returning to her. She clutched at her chest, hyperventilating as her eyes darted around the room. The witch was gone, and so was the paralysis. She looked over at the window, only to see it completely unblemished, not a single horrid letter carved into its surface. Steadily, she slowed her breathing, taking as long as she needed to calm down. She wasn’t calm, and wouldn’t be for a long time, but she was steadfast. Her parents hadn’t heard her screams, and if they had, they were choosing not to run to her.

A subtle meow drew her attention back to the window, and outside it, she saw a familiar black shape. She sighed in relief and got out of bed, heading to the window and opening it up. The Cat was perched on the windowsill, and he stared at her blankly as she picked him up and carried him inside.

“Just a nightmare…”

Coraline sat on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She was still shaken, despite the horrors having ended.

“No. It was her.”

The Cat’s voice caused her to look up and over at him. He licked one of his paws pensively, and she was forced to admit in that moment that he was right. There were no coincidences with that creature.

“Just because she can show you things doesn’t mean she’s as she appears.”

“Are you saying she can’t hurt me here, in the real world?”

The Cat nodded his head.

“It’s all part of her game. She still thinks she can scare you off. She’s more afraid of you than you are of her.”

With a quiet scoff, Coraline sat up and put on her slippers, grabbing her phone as she did. The Cat raised his proverbial eyebrow and jumped after her.

“You ever heard of being safe, rather than sorry?”

She turned on her phone’s flashlight and headed downstairs as quietly as she could. She headed for the kitchen, and in the kitchen was a locked cupboard. She searched through the key draw and took out a small silver one, using it on the cupboard door. Inside were some housework tools, chief among them being a crowbar. She remembered her father putting these tools in this cupboard, and very pointedly telling her not to open it unless he asked her to. She was a little offended that he thought she was still too young for that kind of thing, but in the present she thanked her past father for keeping such things so safe.

Grabbing the crowbar, she marched with purpose to the living room. The Cat watched from a distance, his eyes narrowed in intrigue, though still wary. What was she planning? Placing her phone on the floor, its torch facing up, Coraline dropped down to her knees and placed the crowbar’s hook between the little door and the wall. She fixed it securely in the gap between them, before wrenching with all her might. The door strained and creaked, and the Cat’s hackles raised slightly in anticipation. Coraline wrenched harder, grunting as she put everything she had into it. The door made a pained splintering sound, cracking at the edges, before it suddenly swung open.

Coraline made a sort of pitiful scoffing noise and sighed shakily at the sight. Just a bunch of bricks. The Cat slinked up beside her and pressed his body against her frame to comfort her. She stroked his head and thought about what to do next. Knock down the bricks? She’d probably just find an empty apartment beyond it, as was expected, but that just made her angrier. It couldn’t end like this, so soon, without closure. No, there would be a finale, there would be a final confrontation with the Beldam, and she would win, and she would answer all the questions that had burned since the day she discovered this door.

With a quiet huff, she stood up and stormed out of the room, the Cat following dutifully behind her. As she took her eyes off it, the door began to close, and a light glowed behind it. Quiet scratching echoed through the house, and to accompany it, the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the clashing of brass.

#horror #creative writing #coraline #fanfic

0 notes

misc-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Ahhhhh I hope I’m not to late! Do you have any Halloween headcannons with grimmjow?? Movie nights, haunted house, costumes, just general Halloween stuff! Thank you!!

Nah you're good! Wanted to do this one ON Halloween so it's nice and seasonal lol

He's a little confused at the concept of Halloween, especially since humans for the most part can't see spirits. So...they just pretend they do and dress up like what they think a monster looks like? And for some reason they get candy?

In Japan trick or treating isn't as much of a thing, so it's more about dressing up and partying a bit. He doesn't really get it, but he's happy to get some free food and have an excuse to get a little rowdy. I think he'd try to get away with wearing his normal outfit, but just in his gigai so he can be visible and eat and stuff. He gets a lot of compliments and curious questions about how he managed to make that hole in his stomach--it almost looks real!

He finds that he prefers chocolatey candy instead of sour or fruity. It's the most "filling" by candy standards, and as an Arrancar he prefers food that can actually save your hunger (a holdover of living in a desolate desert his whole life). Big fan of foods and baked sweets that look like body parts and gory stuff.

Horror movies are hit or miss in terms of scariness. Gore fests bore him since it isn't realistic, so something like Friday the 13th or Texas Chainsaw Massacre isn't something interesting. The only exceptions are when the setting is something he isn't used to. Alien would make him wary of space, for example.

Things that cause general unease and are creepy are more interesting. Try showing him a game like Silent Hill 2, a film like El Labyrinto del Fauno or even Coraline, things that are more subtle and really set an emotional tone. It's still weird to him that humans make things just to make others feel weird and uncomfortable for entertainment of all things. Still, it's surprisingly effective.

He's unfazed by haunted houses in the sense that he doesn't get scared. He can sense an intent to kill, and none of these humans in costumes have it. And if by some chance he gets surprised, he'll just knock them out with a punch before realizing it's just a human. Thank God he's in a gigai with limited strength, otherwise he would've probably killed them on accident

His favorite fictional monsters are werewolves. Those claws and fangs, ripping through their human clothes and hunting under the full moon...he wishes that there was a similar well-known monster that was more feline, however. All the cat decorations for Halloween are too cute.

If for some reason he decided to use his Resurrecion as a "costume" (being able to walk around in his true form is something he normally can't do in the Human World without drawing attention), he'd find it strange in a good way that he's able to be himself without causing a fuss. He does get a bit pissed when a little girl dressed as a witch touches his tail and asks to pet his "cute kitty ears."

...he lets her do it, but only if he gets a handful of mini-chocolate bars from her candy bucket.

#bleach #bleach headcanon #grimmjow #grimmjow jaegerjacques #mine #halloween

47 notes · View notes

findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP Recap (June 8/2021) - Lore Suit

As the conflict over L’Llamaburg and the supreme fridge continues to escalate, Ponk and Puffy exchange claims against each other to be settled in a court of law for once instead of turning to war.

Puffy writes a countersuit with her own list of charges and grievances, including not only the recent ones but all their conflicts dating back to Puffy’s very first days on the server.

What counts as a crime on the Dream SMP?

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Captain Puffy

Awesamdude

---

On June 6, 2021, Ponk wrote a message for Puffy and Bad declaring an official “Lore Suit,” challenging them to a legal battle in court.

The Lore Suit's list of claims against Puffy and Bad are as follows:

---

- 2 x destruction of property

- 1 x emotional damage

- theft - tree law - animal murder - animal miss treatment - kidnapping

- 10 x tresspassing

- MURDER IN THE HOLY GROUNDS - georgenotfound

- Damaging the holy ground

- upseting catye - upseting oogway - upseting Foolish - kanye slander - Drinking milk with ice

- Flushing the toilet while still sitting and knowing someone is still in the shower making the water really hot and then cold because you flushed the toilet

- Not seeing how I see Coraline’s mum

- Keeping sea turtles in un sea turtle con-

- conditions

turining on the microwave and 2 am and not stopping the beeping before it hits 0

---

Ponk gave Puffy and Bad three days to come up with a counter suit.

---

June 8, 2021

---

- Puffy visits Foolish’s summer home and finds the Lore Suit Ponk left for her, reading it

Puffy: [About the murder in the Holy Land] “This was an accident, okay? If anybody has to stand up on that stand, it’s Callahan.”

[Server]: what did you say

Puffy: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘WHAT DID I SAY?’ You were there! You told me to punch George that day and I didn’t know he was on half a heart! You baited me into that murder! God, we’re never safe on this damn server...”

[Server]: im watching u

- After grinding at the guardian farm for a bit, Puffy returns to the mainland and visits her old secret base at Bad and Skeppy’s mansion

- She later goes back to the summer home to build a statue for Foolish

- Puffy also responds to Ponk’s declaration. She declares the Lore Suit’s continuation and notes that Ponk was the first to cause property damages.

She writes her own list of charges:

---

2x Counts of Griefing, 1x Count of Turtle Ransom 2x Counts of making Puffy Salty 1x Count of Robbing BBH whilst AFK 69X Counts of Combat logging you weenie!

1X Count of Mugging Foolish on his first day 1x Count of trying to sell me suspicious oils on my first day and then threatening to kill me when asking if I was going to make a rival oil place. 1x Count of making an uneven , unsymettrical , not centered giant red brick of a fridge

1x Count of literally naming your cat Sacrifice and then bringing into a war to die,, and then somehow being surprised about it. 1x Count of quoting Roadtrip during your Red Banquet speech. 1000x counts of arson 1x Count of your one arm

1000x counts of giving cats bad names and then leading them to their death.

Too many counts of making lemon trees that look nothing like lemon trees.

10x counts of putting photos of Kanye everywhere

10000x counts for everytime you mention the brand Supreme

100+ more counts of everytime you’ve killed , threatened or have stolen from someone on the server.

1x count for thinking that you are somehow going to win this loresuit considering you literally were the person who started this all

EXTRA COUNT FOR ASSISTING IN THE MURDER OF MY SON YOU DIRTY EGGPIRE SUPPORTER.

1x count of blowing up foolish’s statue

1x count of being the “Im not touching you” kid.

1x count of being an ipad kid

1x count of probably hissing at people in the hallway at school

1x count of potentially being a horse girl

1x count of stealing Sam’s heart

1x count of buying of Supreme Fridge

7x counts of leaving plastic straws around turtles you SICKO

1x count of making a maze that made my eyes feel like they were flashbanged

11x count of not using a paper or metal straw.

1x oogway thinks you’re a menace

1x count of being one letter away from being called “Punk”

1x count of leaving your stream for icecream

---

- Puffy ends off the message saying she’ll see Ponk in court

- Sam does a birthday stream and works on building the bank, planning the layout of the vaults inside and testing a door mechanism

- Sam visits Fran back at home

- He then decides to go around and visit some old builds on the server, including the guardian farm. He spots Phil at the top

- Afterwards, he visits Sapnap and Punz’s old base and bounces in the Punzo Chunk a bit

- Sam then rigs Boomer’s frog, Pickle, with TNT

- Boomer calls Sam, pleading for him not to. Pickle is the only thing Boomer has. He says if Sam does this, he will get back at him somehow

- Sam fires the bow to light the TNT and Pickle goes up in an explosion. There’s nothing left

- Sam says he can build another Pickle and Boomer leaves

---

Upcoming Events:

- The court battle

- The final Egg lore stream

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Ponk’s lore stream

- Dream’s lore video

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

118 notes · View notes

rocorambles · 4 years

Note

Ok ok but listen to this: Imagine a Coraline au where s/o is tired of her boyfriend Osamu being so closed off and distant. Until she finds a door that leads to a better world with a nicer more charming...Osamu? No this boy is different. He’s identical to Osamu except the blonde hair so stark in contrast to her boyfriend’s own grey. He calls himself Atsumu and promises to be a better partner, a perfect partner. How can s/o refuse?

omg GRACE!!!! This is making me RABID.

Warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Kidnapping

Osamu is the picture perfect, textbook boyfriend every girl dreams of. He cooks well, he’s polite, he’s kind, he’s handsome. There’s really not much you can complain about and yet, behind closed doors when it’s just the two of you, you feel lost and alone. You’ve always known Osamu was on the quiet and reserved side, but you had assumed that once you two started dating he would warm up to you, open up, be more interactive.

How wrong you were.

The silence you had once found peaceful is now suffocating and you can barely swallow the delicious dinner Osamu had cooked as only the sounds of your cutlery and chewing fill the air. You’re tired, so tired, of the superficial small talk, the silent nods and small polite smiles he gives you, the way he sleeps with his back turned to you, so far apart that you wonder what’s the point of even sharing a bed. And as your boyfriend falls fast asleep, you silently get up and exit the room, restlessness keeping you awake as you make yourself a calming cup of tea in the kitchen.

You open the pantry in your search for the container of chamomile only to pause when you notice a small door you’d never noticed before inside. Granted, Osamu is usually the cook, but surely you would have noticed this before even in the few times you rummage around the kitchen or Osamu would have brought it up, right? And yet, nothing’s jogging your memory and your hand inquisitively turns the handle, heart racing when you see the long foreboding corridor on the other side.

In hindsight you’ll wonder why you resisted every ringing alarm in you begging you not to continue, begging you to close the door and return to the safety of your bed. But here you are, cautiously walking down and down and down until you’re gasping as the hallway opens up into the mirror image of the apartment you share with Osamu, except...it’s everything you wanted it to be and you think you must be dreaming as you run a hand over the paint color of the walls you had wanted but that Osamu had vetoed, as you squeal and bounce on the couch you had begged Osamu to get only to once again be shut down. The list goes on and on and tears stream down your face as you look around at what could have been, what you’d sacrificed to try and compromise with your boyfriend on to keep him happy.

Emotions are clashing so much in you that you don’t hear the footsteps treading towards you, screaming when a hand soothingly rubs your upper back. You whirl around shell-shocked when you see the familiar face.

“Osamu?”

But when the face boisterously laughs and gives you a cheeky smile so unlike your boyfriend, you take a closer look, eyes widening when you notice the only difference in appearance between this stranger and your boyfriend is his blonde hair.

“Osamu did you...dye your hair?”

Your brain urges you to keep on referring to this person as Osamu and yet, in your heart you hesitate. It’s true, the similarities in appearance is uncanny, but there’s something different about the confident way this person stands, the mischievous and excited glint in his eyes, the brilliance of his smile.

“Not sure who this Osamu is, but my name is Atsumu, babe. Now what brings you to my home?”

A dream. It has to be a dream. And yet, you have no urge to wake up, curious to explore this “new Osamu”, this new life, anything to avoid the dull reality you’d have to return to eventually whenever you woke up.

In hindsight you’ll realize the small warning signs that this was more real than you had ever imagined, but when you want to escape reality so badly, it’s easy to be lulled into a false security and words tumble out of your mouth as you release all the pent-up emotions you’ve kept locked up, telling Atsumu all about Osamu, your strained relationship, your loneliness. It feels good to finally have a channel to vent even if it is just to a figment of your imagination and this Atsumu just quietly listens, holding you in his arms as you cry into his chest, and you melt into his touch, your body so touch-starved from Osamu’s lack of attention that you don’t notice the way his eyes darken and the way a predatory smile etches across his face.

But his expression schools back into caring understanding and your chest tightens at the warm fond look he sends your way, so different than Osamu’s usual stoic gaze.

“No one deserves to feel that way. Stay with me for a bit. Hang out here for a while. I’ll show you what it’s like to have the perfect partner.”

How can you say no to those affectionate eyes? And after all, it’s just a dream. What harm would indulging in your fantasies cause?

And so you eagerly take his hand, ignoring the way the contact feels too real, too warm to be just a normal dream and you let him whisk you away.

Years later Osamu will still be left to wonder what happened to you. Did you run away from him? Were you dead? With no body ever found despite how frantically he searched for you, it’s hard to say. But he swears sometimes late at night, when he’s in the kitchen for a midnight snack, he can hear the faint echoes of your voice from the pantry.

#yandere atsumu #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere

504 notes · View notes

bloodpacks-archive · 3 years

Text

MUSIC OF THE RFA (+V AND SAERAN) HEADCANONS

first is zen’s taste - okay, so yes, zen loves his show tunes and will absolutely listen to broadway soundtracks a good 57% of the time. That being said, he also really enjoys classic rock. he got into it around the time he was in that motorcycle gang, and even though he doesn’t uphold a lot of the values that he had there anymore, he still finds himself listening whenever he really needs to go out for a ride. sometimes, the mc will find him jamming out with some headphones in while he works out or while he cooks. he gets a bit ridiculous with it sometimes—air guitar and everything—and might even grab her and start dancing with her even though she can’t hear the music.

next is yoosung’s taste - when he isn’t listening to the lolol soundtrack (which, i’m gonna be real, is a really good chunk of his time) he’s got this weird taste for like, 80s pop. which, i get it man, but you visit him and he’s got Take On Me playing in the speakers and you could definitely hear it all the way down the halls. you have to tell him to put in headphones so he doesn’t get a noise complaint. but honestly, it’s really sweet sometimes to come into his dorm and hear him quietly singing along to a song while he plays lolol. he says music helps him concentrate better if he’s not playing in team chat. but when he isn’t listening to 80s pop, he’s got the lolol music on. he specifically uses it when he studies because he says it helps him to focus, but really it just makes him want to play more.

jaehee’s music taste - yes. jaehee listens to zen’s music on repeat. but i like to think when her comphet finally breaks down and she pulls away from her obsession with him for a good few minutes she likes to listen to some soft rock and some jazz. carole king just works for this. It’s Too Late is one of her favorite songs, and she’ll dance around her bakery with a bowl of dough set to rise in her hands—finally a little more carefree—and sing to herself. the mc will laugh at her and steal one of her bluetooth headphones so she can dance with her and then they’ll dissolve into quiet laughter before the oven timer interrupts them.

what a guy! jumin han’s music taste - he’s big into classical music. he really loves impressionist piano, but he also really enjoys the violin, actually. with that though, he doesn’t only listen to classical. jumin actually listens to a lot of blues. he really likes etta james and the mc can find him quietly playing some of his favorite blues songs on his record player after a stressful day, a glass of red wine not far from his lips. when he gets a little drunk, he’ll grab her by the hand and spin her around. he likes slow dancing at night sometimes, and he’s good on his feet, even with a little wine in him, so he’ll twirl her and hold her close while the record player hums in the background.

mmm. saeyoung choi’s music - i’ve said this a lot and i will continue to say it: saeyoung choi loves freddie dredd. other (similar) artists include rav and kill bill: the rapper, but he also branches out from rap a bit! he likes the song Just Like Honey by The Jesus and Mary Chain, too, mainly because it really fills up his headphones. it’s a weird sensation, but he says the way it sounds when he wears his headphones can help him if he’s been having issues with noise that day. otherwise, he loves the way freddie dredd and those other artists make him feel. he loves playing them in the car because for once he can feel a little unstoppable without being tied to a computer. so much of that is his identity, and since he doesn’t go out on missions that much anymore, he can kind of feel like he’s lost some of that resolve he had when he was a bit younger. music can help him get that back. and honestly, when he’s driving and he’s singing along, he gets really confident. it’s definitely not uncommon for him to reach over and place a hand on the mc’s thigh while he’s driving with her, or even to play with her hair absentmindedly—really anything to just touch her while he drives and feels as confident as he does.

god. jihyun’s music taste... - mitski with like a sprinkle of hozier. boom you’ve got the music taste. he honestly just really loves the power behind mitski’s music. there’s something about the way she communicates through her craft that he really admires. he also adores everything about how she performs. from an artist’s standpoint—he’s completely enthralled by it. sometimes, the mc will hear her quietly playing in their apartment and will walk into jihyun’s studio to find him painting to her music. it’s honestly this really sweet, calming feeling just from being in there. sometimes, though, he gets really caught up in his piece and the song and it can be pretty emotional for him—especially if the piece has something to do with his trauma which, honestly, he starts to explore a bit in the later years at the recommendation of his therapist. sometimes, she walks in and has to put her arms around him and remind him that it’s okay to feel the way he does, and he can feel grounded again.

finally, it’s saeran’s music - saeran ends up really liking movie score. he has a certain affinity to the coraline soundtrack because he likes all the different notes and all the separation between them. he likes how simplistic it is, is what i’m getting at. but he also really enjoys score from period pieces, like pride and prejudice. he finds the piano to be really calming and likes to listen while he gardens! it gets to the point that he knows the pieces by name just from the first few notes, and he’ll be humming the pieces around the house even when he’s not listening.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger headcanons #mysme headcanons #hyun ryu #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #jihyun kim #v mystic messenger #saeran choi #yes i did two of these in one day i really liked them

109 notes · View notes

bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

Passing Through

Dannymay Day 5: Doorway

“Don’t go in there,” his mother warned. Her voice shook. “Never go through that door.”

Danny had no intention of ignoring his mother, especially since the night she’d given him that warning was seared so thoroughly in his mind he didn’t think even as an adult he’d ever forget it.

It had been dark, but not any darker than any other night with Danny’s myriad nightlights and glowing stars stuck everywhere he could reach and then some. The night had long since settled, and Danny was supposed to be sleeping and was instead, like any young child, not doing that.

In fact, he’d been staring out his window, arm balanced on the sill and face pressed up against the glass so he could see the night sky in all her glory. It was one of the only times he felt truly comfortable, alone and with his parents and sister asleep. He often imagined himself sailing amongst those stars. Or flying high enough to reach out and cradle one to his chest.

Jazz always told him that was impossible, that each star was as far away from each other as they were from earth, if not further. He told her she could eat dirt, and she got a hurt look in her eyes that made him feel bad, but he didn’t apologize because she was being mean first.

He’d been preoccupied, that’s why he didn’t notice it at first.

When the soft pink touch of the sun started obscuring the night’s stars, Danny realized he’d been up all night and he was probably going to fall asleep in class again. He turned around to quickly dive into bed to at least feign having slept so his parents didn’t scold him and feel like they had to check in on him at night the way they threatened to last time.

He hadn’t expected the door.

It was small, very small compared to a normal door. It was just large enough that Danny could crawl through on all fours, and he knew there was no way his dad would ever be able to get through. At least not more than an arm. Maybe his head if he tried to dive through it.

The door was closed, a soft, purple light on the other side painting the carpet beneath where it stood, balanced, in the middle of the room. Acting as if it was placed in the wall like any good door, but missing the wall itself entirely.

Danny walked closer, his mind off bed times and getting ready for school entirely. Now he was thinking of adventures and stories Jazz used to read him before he could read himself. Stories of exploration and hidden worlds. His hand brushed against the polished brass handle, and a jolt of electricity flowed through him, causing every hair in his body to stand on end.

He probably should have let go then, released the handle and backed up, frightened. But instead Danny’s grip tightened and he twisted the nob, pulling it slowly open, his heart beating in rapt anticipation. It was barely open a sliver, the tiniest bit of purple light spilling out onto the frame, when his mother ran into the room and slammed it closed.

She was wearing a hazmat suit, as if she’d just come from the lab downstairs, with thick rubber gloves and ominous red goggles that reflected a twisted version of Danny’s face back at him as she pulled him into a tight, unforgiving hug.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said, her words heavy with exertion. Had she run up here? How did she know there was a door?

Danny looked over his mother’s shoulder to take another look, but the door had vanished at some point when his eyes were no longer locked upon it. That was when she gave him her warning. The one he had no intention of ignoring.

The one he was disregarding now, for no reason other than he was sick of it. He was tired of the nights, laying awake and seeing a door that promised so much and had yet to be given the opportunity to deliver.

His mother would skin him alive if she knew, but she’d probably never find out. Honestly, if Tucker’s theories were true and it was some monster trying to trick him into its lair Coraline-style, it’d probably take at least a week for her to even realize he was gone. His dad probably wouldn’t notice at all.

Jazz…

Danny shook his head. If anything, Jazz would be the one to forgive him for being dumb. She understood what it was like to have this burning curiosity, this need to know.

The door didn’t always appear. Most nights it did, but only when Danny was distracted by something, usually the stars outside his window, sometimes a particularly fun video game or a good book. It only ever appeared right on the cusp of night and morning, before the sun rose fully but after the stars hid away. And it always waited for him to look away before it disappeared.

He didn’t plan on looking away tonight.

The first night after his mother’s warning, he’d stayed up all night, terrified, waiting for the door to appear. It never did. In fact, the next month, he spent every second awake expecting it to appear and being almost disappointed when it didn’t.

It appeared again, in much the same way it had the first time, while Danny was star gazing.

That’s why, now, knowing the rules (or rather what few rules he could tell from this side of the door), Danny was determined to follow through. None of his questions would be answered just waiting for the door to appear or not appear, nor would they be answered by spending time staring at it and studying it from the outside.

He needed to go through.

The brass knob was cold against his palm, and it turned easily. The click of the mechanism was loud in the night’s quiet. He held his breath. He opened the door.

There was no resistance when it swung open. Almost the opposite, in fact, like it had been waiting for an excuse. The soft purple light that had teased the edges of the door was much closer to a deep, swirling purple that looked almost like mist and obscured the path forward.

But Danny wasn’t scared.

He was curious.

He stepped through, and heard the door close softly behind him. Just like in a horror movie really, and exactly like the stories his mother told him, warning him of monsters and things from the other side.

It didn’t matter anymore, if he’d made the right choice. He’d made his choice and there was only one path to take. Danny walked into the mists and kept walking.

No more than an hour could have passed, but it felt like much longer. Time seemed to stretch along with the endless path, and Danny hadn’t come any closer to the answers he wanted.

He sighed. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he tried calling out, to no avail.

This was turning out to be a waste of a trip. With all the cryptic warnings, he’d hoped it wouldn’t be boring at the very least, yet here he was. The only difference between this and one of Sam’s ‘nature hikes’ was that Danny couldn’t see anything through the damned purple mist.

Or could he?

Danny squinted his eyes, catching something moving just to his left. It was very much hidden, the deep purple of its cloak camouflaged perfectly against the swirling purples all around him. He took a step closer, off the path, and felt the air still around him.

A voice, haunting and deep, startled him.

“A quick learner,” it said.

Danny felt his mouth go dry. There was actually someone here, someone that might not be human. Someone that could summon a door into a kids room for half a decade waiting for them to open it.

Someone who might have answers.

Danny stepped closer, and the mist seemed to gather, catching on itself and folding into a physical shape. The hooded figure. Danny forced himself not to blink. It felt like anything was possible, that if he looked away, he’d miss too much to make sense of it later.

The hooded figure turned to him and beckoned with one gloved hand, the other holding a twisting, intricate staff covered in shapes and symbols Danny couldn’t quite make out. Danny didn’t step any closer.

It was clear this man wasn’t human, or at the very least hadn’t been for some time. The only thing Danny could see hidden under the cloak was an old clock. But even then, Danny couldn’t tell whether it was something he was wearing on his chest or if it simply was his chest and there was nothing else.

“You’re still cautious, even now when you’ve already made your decision?” the figure asked. “Did you not seek an answer to your curiosity?”

Danny frowned. This whatever-it-was knew more than he was comfortable with. Had he been watching from the other side? How? Is that why the door only appeared when it did? Why couldn’t he just open the door and step out if his goal was to spirit Danny away like in the stories?

There were just so many questions, and Danny still didn’t have any answers.

“Do you actually have any answers or are you just going to eat me?” he asked, growing irritated. It had been a long night, made longer by his fruitless walk, and it was starting to affect his temper.

Instead of answering, the figure lowered his arm, tilting his head to the side. “If you thought I was going to eat you, why did you come through the door? You’ve been very good at ignoring it so far.”

“Yeah see,” Danny said, throwing up his hands, “that kind of stuff only makes you sound more creepy and suspicious, you know! If your goal is child eating you should set up, idk a candy house or something. Pretend to be a grandma, I hear that works wonders provided you stay out of your own oven.”

The figure laughed. It sounded, off, not like a noise Danny recognized, but more like a collage of sounds: a ticking clock chiming with heavy clanking clockwork all wrapped in canary song and it vibrated all the way through Danny from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It filled the air around them much like the mist once did and Danny felt glee himself, caught up as he was.

He looked up desperately at the figure, trying to keep ahold of himself and how he truly felt, lost in the sudden sea of emotion. The figure’s cloak was bunched up, as if he was doubled over in laughter, his gloves clutching at his staff and the entire collection shaking with slight tremors.

The hood turned towards him, empty, and Danny’s panic spiked. The laughter stopped, and the figure stood once more, pulling the hood further down and hiding the nothingness underneath.

“I apologize,” he said, sincere. “It’s been some time since I’ve felt in such good humor, and you took me off guard. I hope you didn’t get too swept away?”

Danny, who was still definitely feeling the effects of the other’s laughter, shook his head no. “I’m alright. I just- what are you?”

“I am like Clockwork,” he answered readily. “Though the question you should be asking, Daniel, is what are you? That is a much more interesting answer.”

Disagreeing vehemently, Danny shook his head. Like Clockwork? Was that his name? Why he had a clock, er, was a clock? How did that work? What was he? Simply what his name implied? Something more? There were a billion and a half questions he wanted answers to that were more interesting than that.

Then again, there had to be a reason he said it, right? “Okay Clockwork, I’ll bite. What am I?”

He could swear the thing smiled. “You are halfway there.”

#dannymay2021 #danny phantom #clockwork #danny fenton #horror #horror themes #loosely based off TPoH #but not nearly that well thought out #Bee's writing

82 notes · View notes