#cw being hunted

[tarabyte3]

🍁🕯️🎃 Happy Halfoween! 🎃🕯️🍁

To celebrate it being both halfway to my favorite day of the year AND National Poetry Month, here is my last poetry post: Horror Edition!

(Please mind the content warning tags! Also there are more collages below the cut to really get you in the mood)

The Harvest

When the night falls

and the harvest comes

we huddle in our beds,

covers pulled tight

to our trembling chins,

and wait. Every creak

or moan of wood

catches our breath.

A struggle for silence. A hope

our blood-soaked offerings

and fires were enough

to satiate their endless

ancient hunger.

Our rituals used to be joyous

occasions of mead and meat

and congregation,

before the things came

and then by morning light

we found splintered doors,

gore splattered beds,

and trails of ichor

winding into the forest.

In those first few years

we dared not look out

our curtains for fear

of catching their eye,

but some saw upright shadows

pass their windows

with a shambling gait

and spindly limbs.

Not beasts, but worse

than men. No weapons,

no charm or barricade,

no prayers to God

could save our souls,

and we dreaded the dying

light—their coming.

We left the pigs out first,

tied to posts in the town square,

huddled and confused.

It helped. Lessened the hunt,

but didn't end it.

Not by half.

Then we tried the cows

as well, and still we heard

the screams and pleas

and grinding growls.

We had no choice

except to choose.

The harvesters were coming

and it was better to prepare,

to know how the night

would go than to leave

our loved to slaughter. A mercy

to die by the blade

before the tearing started.

Our rituals now are solemn,

lotteries and funerals,

towering pyres, sacrifice

and chanting to appease

these old gods of the long dark

and death. We are our own

shepherds and farmers,

our own flock and crops,

and so we must tend our own.

Every night I awaken—

before dawn with the notion

that I am not alone.

There is a shadow with me.

Its eyes peek from

a dark corner crack,

beckoning with a wispy

curl of a finger.

Yet it is not temptation

I feel, but terror,

bone itching

and bile roiling

with a ringing in my ears

like the scream

of a tea kettle

This blackness creeps

ever closer.

Yesterday it brushed

the fringe of my rug.

Tonight it's reached

my curtains.

I know it hunts me,

ever patient,

to blanket me in nothing.

I would run,

you see,

If I didn't know

this shroud is a distraction.

A dare to rouse me

to my feet.

For in my full length mirror

by the hall door,

fading in the moonlight,

I see the face under my bed

and how it smiles.

Not a Tree

There is a branch outside

my window where no tree

grows. Yet its twig fingers

scrape and probe the screen

for a weakness,

an opening

to pry ajar

like an oyster.

Inside I am meat.

I am prey

to this ash, this bark

crusted limb

that covets skin—

seeks to know

my bare limbed flesh

and crush my bones.

It creaks. It yearns, aches,

to slip its muddied roots

throughout my ribcage,

twine its way between

my fingers and toes.

To feel how I writhe

beneath it as my

sinews decompose.

It cannot help

but consume me

to feel alive and grow

from my absence.

It must be a tree

that knocks, that sways

palm shaped shadows

upon my bedroom wall.

What else can reach

a second story window?

That is not the question

that lashes through my mind,

but rather: did I remember

to turn the lock?

[mayasaura]

The way The Locked Tomb uses cannibalism is so interesting, because while it does serve as a metaphor for intimacy, the series only uses it that way when it's cannibalism of the soul. Cannibalism of the flesh is either extremely limited, or straight up horrific.

Like step six of the Eightfold Word. It's literally presented as "consume the flesh," but Ianthe goes out of her way to specify that a single drop of blood is sufficient. The most unhinged act of intimacy in the series, and it's explictly the soul and only the soul being digested.

Human flesh is only consumed in any volume twice: John's post-apocalyptic survival cannibalism, and Harrow's delicious murder soup. Both those scenes are exactly the opposite of intimate, and about as far from erotic as you can get.

John and Alecto gorging themselves on anonymous strangers was debasing to everyone involved, and not something John ever wanted to be reminded of. Harrow's soup was a desperate attempt at self-defense, like an animal in a trap gnawing through her own leg. It horrified and disgusted everyone at the table, even Ianthe, the number one suspect at making it weird.

I love the overall effect of the layered symbolism, because it allows cannibalism to be explored both ways. Seperately, without one connotation implicating the other. Except for Babs, of course, who gets to be both.

[joifee]

Fish fear me, men fear me, fishmen fear me

Heyo I joined @mcyt-halloweens gift exchange and my trad partner was @iicarussea!!! fellow fwhip enjoyer we love to seeeee I just had to go a little overboard and make it really spooky :D hope you like! happy halloween^^

[robo-milky]

SHOEHORNING MY BELOVED NICHE CLASSICS INTO TWST ONCE AGAIN— HELLO!! …may or may not elaborate if asked-

[sluttyhenley]

Come away with me.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - ROGUE NATION dir. Christopher McQuarrie

[dollya-robinprotector]

I mentioned this on my pin post, but it won't hurt to emphasize again:

I'm very, very, VERY into INCEST, particularly adopted siblings, siblings, cousins with similar appearances, and especially twin.

Yes, you heard me right.

No, it doesn't mean I'm in love with my irl siblings or cousins, in fact my sister and I share incest fanfics together and squeal together.

No, it doesn't mean I see a pair of twin when I walk outside and immediately think they should fuck. My liking stays on fictional world only.

Yes, this is your sign to unfollow or re-check your blocked-tags list. I will use the tag cw incest, so look out for your own good.

Love ya~✨

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Adorned by stars | Changing States

When he hits the I-70, Jeremiah slots George Michael’s Faith into his ’98 Accord and drives with the windows down. His mother would chide him for two reasons: a) he’s wasting fuel and b) it’s begun to storm. But he likes the way the wind shears through his hair like a nail breaking drywall and he likes the way spats of rain settle on his skin like constellations because on the road, he isn’t just a hand for someone else to hold, a body to handle, a man who looks at another man and fears how much of himself he’s lost in his reflection. No. On the road he is the sky, adorned by stars of his own making, relentless in his abundance, blinking in the absence of any other light.

A little Changing States aesthetic & excerpt!

i'm so normal about him i'm so normal i'm so normal i'm so-

[wolfpackmuses-a]

Closed starter for @blxestar​

Crookedstar paced back and forth outside the nursery, glancing up at every sound and movement that occurred inside. He had been nervous all morning since Bluefur had begun to come down with kits just on the edge of the ThunderClan and RiverClan border and he cursed at himself for having had met her tonight, just for this to happen. He was annoyed, but he knew she was in good paws with Brambleberry and Mudfur, who was quickly becoming a very knowledgeable medicine cat, would help ease her pain and help with the kitting.

Brambleberry had basically been inside the nursery with Bluefur since she arrived with Crookedstar to RiverClan’s camp a few hours prior, with Mudfur running to and from the medicine cat den with herbs, sticks, and whatever else was needed. When Mudfur was busy, Crookedstar was more than happy to help, having gathered fresh moss and water for his mate, and of course better materials for her nest to make her more comfortable.

It had been a while since he had heard anything from inside the den and Mudfur had sent him away, so he could stop pacing back and forth worrying himself,

❝She’ll be fine, she’s in good paws, just trust me Crookedstar,❞ Mudfur had told him with a genuine smile,  ❝She’ll be fine, don’t worry.❞

And he had kept the medicine cat apprentice and Brambleberry to that. He had also kept to himself, trying to preoccupy himself with other things, meaning he had organized the dawn patrols, gotten the hunting parties together, and helped the mentors with what they should train their apprentices on for that day.

Cedarpelt had let him do so, knowing that Crookedstar wanted to keep busy, but the deputy padded up to Crookedstar after he was done, sitting beside him. He looked to the young leader, seeing his fur being spiked with worry, and a look of worry still plastered to his face.

Cedarpelt used his tail to smooth out his leader’s fur and to reassure his old apprentice,

❝Everything will be alright. . It’s green-leaf, she couldn’t have asked for a better time to have kits,❞ he whispered and Crookedstar nodded, giving a small sigh.

❝I know, I know, but after the other issues we’ve had, I j-❞ he was stopped mid-sentence by Cedarpelt, who had slapped his tail over Crookedstar’s muzzle,

❝She’ll. Be. Fine,❞ he said again, much more stern, to which Crookedstar nodded again, this time fully understanding. Cedarpelt dropped his tail and Crookedstar looked back across the clearing as Mudfur exited the nursery to fetch a bit more damp moss and quickly returned only a few minutes later into the den.

Crookedstar could only sit impatiently and wait. His nerves were getting the better of him and he was thinking of worse case scenarios the entire time. He didn’t know what to do or say, before a yowl broke his thoughts,

❝Crookedstar!❞ Brambleberry yowled from the nursery to him across the clearing.

Crookedstar scampered to his feet and sprinted across the clearing, being met by Brambleberry outside the nursery, Crookedstar giving her a worried look that quickly melted when he saw the prideful look on her face and the happiness that shone in her eyes,

❝Have a look,❞ she whispered to the leader,  ❝Two kits. One tom, one she-cat. I won’t spoil anything else, but Bluefur absolutely wants you to help name them.❞

Crookedstar smiled from one side of his crooked jaw to the other and dipped his head to Brambleberry, who returned the head dip with her own,

❝Thank you, Brambleberry,❞ he breathed and quickly moved his way into the den to meet his mate,

❝Well? How are they? What do they look lie? Are they already warriors?❞ Crookedstar asked excitedly as he moved over to his mate. He moved around the back side of her body, lying down, and then curling around her body with his own. He stuck his crooked right leg out, that still wasn’t healed fully, and looked at her with joy filling his heart and his body swimming with nervous feelings.

Mudfur looked on at the scene, giving a small purr of amusement,

❝I guess not even the strongest of leaders can hide their excitement about kits,❞ he commented with a chuckle, to which Crookedstar shot him a glance that was of slight annoyance with him, but it wasn’t mean spirited and Mudfur knew that.

❝Come on! I want to see them!❞ he breathed to Bluefur, excitement glittering in his eyes.

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

Illegal fireworks or gunshots- the ultimate American guessing game!

[rambunctioustoons]

wrong. the correct spelling is

Y-O-U

[apamates]

Fitz' loved ones going "is anyone going to inflict unimaginable trauma on that boy??" and not waiting for an answer

[suncaptor]

when people are like yeah Sam would be great being a leader around hunters who talk about how much they want to kill freaks while Sam is actively overwhelmed and flinching and just happens to have some leadership skills and I'm just like. bro get him out of there.

[onedivinemisfit]

A victorious bruxa song

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

[showfallmediamaintenance]

You left me ib thd apatmet knwig i was bdkng hynds and shit ! !!!! wht qould being drnk mater? -🌹

Rose, listen. I didn't think I'd be gone for that long. It was supposed to be a quick trip and I... No, I'm not going to make excuses for myself. I just want you to be safe.

I've read through your blog, and I must say, that anon is a jackass, and they're lying about absolutely everything. You know that you aren't a monster, Rose. I know it, and everyone else knows it, too. They're trying to get to you, get under your skin and attack you at the heart, don't let them.

None of this is your fault, you're only human. You're just trying to survive. It's Showfall that fucked it all up. Not you. I promise, it was never you.

And now onto the more pressing issue... Alcohol. It seems fun at first, but then you drink too much, and then you get sick. I almost lost a friend that way. It was horrible. And you've obviously had some already.

And this is your first time, so it's going to be a bit... wild. And by that I mean probably a little bit overwhelming.

I'm going to assume you don't have anyone supervising you as well, so there's nobody to regulate your alcohol intake. So heed my warning, don't drink anything that says anything ranging from 20% to 40% on the bottle, stay hydrated.

What else... Oh, yeah. Sip, don't chug. Don't drive, of course. And aim for the toilet or a trash can to the best of your abilities if you feel sick.

I really wish I could be there to help you out.

Stay safe, Rose. Love you.

[bittwitchy]

Jefferson - Once Upon a Time

[smokedanced]

                                        @hvbris    /    isaac & iris    /    cont. from ↷

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, in panic, as she keeps fighting against the restraints, even as she can tell she’s not going anywhere. She’s not... personally strapped anyone down like this, but she’s seen things, at the headquarters of TD Industries. Been shown things. She knows secure restraints when she feels them, knows a secure lab when she sees one, even if it’s... it... it isn’t like anywhere she’s been before, here. It’s  alien,  no pun intended, but even without the weird unspoken words she’s getting from this guy she could guess what she’s here for.

Though she’s still not entirely convinced she’s not being mindfucked by TD.

❝ Bad behaviour? ❞    Iris questions in a shriek.    ❝ Sorry, mate, but nothing in this picture encourages good behaviour! What do you care?! You have me where you want me, why’s it matter if I shout a little! ❞    No. No, she won’t give him meekness. If this thing means to perform some weird experiments on her,  she’s at least not going to make it easy for him.