#cw suffocation

[paintingpuff]

When there's not enough official Outer Wilds merch so you make your own poster

[sunandmoonseisai]

Funny... Cooking show...

[sprunkimortality]

Saves? Is something going on? I think we're all worried about you.

Sprinkles: "But Grandpapa Black, I wanna see if Grandpapa Saves is okay!"

Black: "This is a grown-up matter, Sprinkles. Just stay here and...go play with your toys."

Sprinkles: "I can't play when I'm worried!"

Black: "Then try to distract yourself, kid."

[The door closes shut as Black leaves the home. Sprinkles pauses, looking towards the door for a while.]

Sprinkles: "...hrrmphh!"

[She frustratedly hops on the floor.]

Sprinkles: "It's not fair! Why can't I go see Grandpapa?! He's my family too!"

[Sprinkles let out a huff, clenching her paws.]

Sprinkles: "...hrmph...I wanna find a way to help...I just need to figure out how..."

(CONTENT WARNINGS IN TAGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION)

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Saves: "...hgh..."

Saves: "Hrk-! Ghhk-!!"

Saves: "HHGGKK--!!"

???: "Saves-!"

Saves: "AAAAAAAHHH!!!"

Simon: "Saves! A- Are you okay? You're breathing all weirdly...!"

Saves: "Hfff...hfff....hff...."

Saves: "S...S-S...Samson?"

Simon: "It's...Simon, actually...hey, at least your breathing is slowing down now!"

Saves: "..."

Simon: "...do you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

Saves: "...n...n-no..."

Simon: "Oh-! Uh, that's okay!...maybe I could cheer you up somehow? I've got some little thingies you might wanna check out, if you want...?"

Saves: "...o-okay."

Simon: "Alright...!"

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[patheticpretending]

This song really reminded me of James for sum reason..... So I made this,,,

[the--other]

Guys why are we attacking the other??? they're clearly super strong its a bad idea

POCKET SAND

⚠️ CW Asfixia/Suffocation and Emetophobia/Vomit mention

The Witchlight Mist is almost so dense and horribly fetid, it's really impossible to breathe. Either you'll die by asfixia or vomiting your guts out.(¿?

[togglesbloggle]

I get nightmares, sometimes.

I know specifically where they come from. Second grade. My elementary school would gather kids up in the cafeteria and read some short-ish book to a large-ish crowd. I don't know why they did it that way instead of the classroom; it might have been some kind of after-school activity instead of during normal hours. The circumstances are pretty vague to me, this long after the fact.

I don't remember the title of this particular story either, or any of the names of the characters, most of it's long since lost in the fog. I was probably a bit bored for most of the reading. The book was a pretty generic little thing, until it wasn't. There was this caterpillar, it wanted to be a butterfly, a convenient and kid-friendly shorthand for overcoming obstacles to self-actualization through friendship and wisdom. One of the more common allegories out there.

But anyway, what made it weird was, the author decided that the catharsis of becoming a butterfly was a bit too straightforward to carry the climax of the story all on its own. So instead, most of the other bugs- the ones, I have to assume, that represented the forces of conformity and social pressure, or whatever- all became envious of the butterfly's ability to reach the sky (or sun?). When they saw the beautiful butterfly soaring through the air, in a rage they all started climbing on top of one another, and forming a big teeming pile of bugs, each one trying to get just a little bit higher, demanding to touch the sky just like the butterfly did. It became a giant, squirming mass, larger and larger until the inevitable occurred, the bugs at the bottom of this horrific mass were crushed, and the entire thing collapsed to its inevitable doom. The butterfly, armed with wings of its own, flew onward to the sky.

It's a little hard to pinpoint exactly what these nightmares are about, in a symbolic sense. They're about the anxieties of social conformity and peer pressure, certainly; my recurring fears of being molded by the community around me in to compliant and useful forms without consideration for my own happiness. But they're also about hierarchies and the meaning of social power, and even about conformist pressures in epistemic and ontological frames. It sort of slips from one analogy to another, untethered. It's a basal, animal fear that gets carried forward to many walks of life, both practical and philosophical, one that takes the particular form it does just because that story happened to be the first thing to hit this fault-line of mine at the right angle and crystalize my fears in to something I could understand.

On those nights when I find myself trapped in that pile, buried under the weight of hundreds of bodies, forced to crush the victims below me and claw my way through the airless, squirming heat and death of it all, the analogies don't really matter so much. Sometimes the beings around me are humans, sometimes they're all bugs, sometimes I am too, but always it's just about the simple, awful terror of living in that world of flesh. Things that might once have been fellow-travelers, trapped underneath and above and on every side with no room to move. When the agonizing pressure bearing down on you drives through your body without interruption, and you become an instrument that empowers and transmits that same violence to the animals that you're crawling over, with no relief from the pain except to drag somebody down from above you and get just a bit higher. Suffocating, always suffocating, gasping hot breaths where nothing's left to breathe.

But it is very potent grist for any number of metaphors, that's why I keep dreaming the damned thing. And it's not at all uncommon to be moving through my normal, waking life and find myself in circumstances that trigger this fear. I can always feel it coming on with that vague sense of suffocation, usually even before I understand consciously that I've found myself in one of those situations.

Being in the crowd at a sports stadium will usually get me pretty bad, of course. Driving in traffic does it sometimes, a little. But the merely physical crowds are pretty tolerable in the short term. Being at a protest or political rally is much worse; chanting with a crowd is more likely to trigger these nightmares than just cheering with one, because chants are semantic. More buy-in, you see? You have to conform with your ideas as well as your body.

It's there in more abstract ways as well. If I'm in a chat group or social community that brings in an applause light (or shared enemy) that is meant to unify everybody and create a sense of shared identity using public consensus, it can get a little hard to breathe; I sometimes have to go hide in a private room during dinner parties, when they go in the wrong direction. I've avoided employment in big, mission-statement-y corporations my whole life, for much the same reason.

I know that there are people who find a great deal of joy and meaning in this stuff, in being a part of social movements and organizations larger than themselves. I don't mean to say anything objective about such preferences, this isn't even really about my considered opinions so much as the animal parts of me. But man, the animal in me is so frightened sometimes. So much of our world seems to be made of these ziggurats of flesh, teeming piles of human life all trying to reach for something divine by crushing the souls below.

I have, I think, mostly avoided the worst failure states of contrarianism; better not to let the crows dictate my opinions at all, even by inversion. And actually I do better living in large cities than you might expect. Modern city life is 'dense' in the sense that you're often near a few people at a time, but not often to the point of actually restricting movement. Merely having a loud upstairs neighbor doesn't trigger my phobias at all, and it's usually pretty trivial to have basic personal space; I suppose I might struggle in places like Manhattan or Tokyo, though. It's a marked part of my life, but not a disabling one.

And like I said, this isn't a philosophical or a moral stance per se, though it's clearly part of the 'state of nature' that's upstream of my ideological commitments. Mostly, I'm writing this out because I think a lot of people tend to be annoyed by the kind of separatism I reach for reflexively, and treat it like a threat or a form of dissent. Which I guess it sort of is; I and people like me are pretty bad at forming coalitions and doing that kind of important work in the polis. But still, I'm hoping that my nightmares can do a little bit of good on that front, by providing vivid and terrible imagery to help others understand subjectively what it's like instead of just rounding it off to an easy-to-dismiss "Reddit bro" or whatever Type Of Guy is common parlance on the internet at the time.

And I guess, also, I'd like to help communicate something of the beauty of the alternative- of being the butterfly, I mean. And to the extent that it's possible, to communicate the urgency that I feel in chasing tools and institutional patterns that can help people to build their own wings and fly through the open air. There are things that help us rise under our own power as individuals, without victims. Curiosity, creativity, patience, mutual appreciation; so many kinds of strength that don't demand sacrifices. And the greatest of these, I think, is the pursuit of truth, and the sincere desire to understand the structure and consistency of the world around us.

Failing all else, during this election season please have a little patience for those of us who fall silent or slip away instead of lending our voices to the chanting of the crowds, or who seem to care more about picking apart ideas instead of organizing around them, or who otherwise never seem to miss an opportunity to make ourselves the odd one out. There's power in numbers, and this is a moment when power is desperately needed; but I don't think you can touch the sky that way. The higher goals, the things that will allow us to transcend our present difficulties outright and to achieve something really great, are too far away and too alien to reach merely by stacking bodies or echoing the doctrines of the present. Hope comes as a stranger, and we need hope right now for the same reasons that we need power.

[moraltonsnastyconfessional]

[starlessmourning]

turned my tadc au into ocs based on far cry 5 lmao

i post art of them on my toyhouse more since im kind of bored of tumblr

cw for choking/suffocation under the cut

[thewandererh]

debating whether i should share an older cccclinic fic…..here’s a snippet of simon having a terrible time

[habitual-creatures]

IN THAT CAS3, D0 Y0U HAV3 A FAV0RIT3 G3NR3suffocatehim. shutup.

...MY FAV0RIT3 G3NR3'S H0RR0R...'SP3CIALLY F0UND F00TAG3 AND B0DY H0RR0R.

~CHA0TICALLY, DISC0RD/🕕

N̶͉̓ọ̴̓t̸̝̔ ̵̥͌r̷̤̈ȅ̴͇å̷̱l̸̬̑l̸̦͂y̷̱͑.̷̦͆.̴̘͊.̷̩̕ ̸͉͑a̴̧̓g̶͓͝a̶͈͆i̶͙̊n̷̦͐,̶͚́ ̵̩̓d̷̤̅ȅ̸̜p̵̗̄e̵̮̓n̶̞͝d̶̺͆ŝ̵͕ ̶̢̄w̸̛͈h̶͉͝á̷̙ṯ̸̊ ̸̧̏I̵̪͛'̴̙̿m̸̳̅ ̵̣̉i̶͕̓ń̴̳ ̵͖͝t̵̺͋h̷͈͆è̸̻ ̸̯̔m̵̼̃o̷̻͋ó̵͇ḏ̶͗ ̸͉͒f̴̪͗ö̷̮́r̶̬̓.̷͔͠

̴̯͑I̵͖͘f̸͎̿ ̴͙̌y̵̹̐ǒ̶̧u̸͙͗ ̸̭̓N̶͍̔Ä̴͈M̷̧̽E̴̛̩D̵͖̔ ̵̉ͅa̵͔͠ ̷͙͠g̸̨̽e̴͔͘n̸̮͘r̷̔ͅe̸̯̍ ̷̯̈I̸̧͑ ̶̗̂c̸̗͊o̶̲̔ū̷̳l̶͕̔d̴̬̔ ̴̣̉s̵̙͗a̴̧̅y̶̘̓ ̶̝̕l̷͈͆î̸̼k̵̨̆e̷͇͠.̵̤̇.̸̰͘.̷̳͊ ̶͈̅m̷̝͆y̶̧͆ ̵̧̔t̷̺͗o̵̙̅p̵̢͝ ̶͕̌3̵̲͂ ̸͌͜o̷̮͗r̴̖͝ ̴̰͂s̸̻̓o̸̬̍?̶̻͂

(( translation

Not really... again, depends what I'm in the mood for.

If you NAMED a genre I could say like... my top 3 or so? ))

[sunandmoonseisai]

Taking my sweet time because I need to do this scene justice

[cupophrogs]

Too Late :(

As the Tox progresses through Poppet's flare-ups, I think the sheer amount of fur would start to get heavy and make it hard to move! So eventually, either it would spread to block their nose and mouth, or it would weigh on their throat and suffocate them that way. They'd probably die while watching the sunset on their favourite bench :(

Bonus!!

@koifsssh :) [<-evil]

[jackassrabbit]

We were discussing new Pokemon games and started pitching Pokemon Space (and Time).

[fear-aesthetic-tourney]

You can feel it, can't you? The crushing weight of expectations placed upon you. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you bury your insecurities and feelings deep down inside you, it's never enough for them, isn't it?

"Why haven't you started dating yet?"

Your bills and loans have been piling higher and higher on your desk. You try to ignore it, paying off as much as you can, but as one disappears another begins. A partner would stress you out.

"Why are you dropping out of school? You love school!"

You are drowning from the sheer amount of work that's never ending. You can barely keep up and yet everyone else has time for service, for parties, for field trips. Your future debts loom over your head like a guillotine poised at the ready.

"When will you have a baby? The clocks ticking you know! I want a grandbaby!"

You see family members and friends moving on in life, bundles of joy cradled in their hands. You are the only one whose hands are empty. Your famiky boasts lots of children and you are expected to carry the name along but you can't. Children are loud and noisy and not for you. You're medically incapable. The very thought of pregnancy makes you nauseated. But they all keep asking maybe you should..?

"Why don't you show your pride? Why not help us fight the good fight?"

You are a private person, yet they all look to you to help spread their cause. You owe them nothing, but they expect everything. They keep asking and asking and asking to step out and speak putting pressure to keep appearances, to fit in their mold. You don't like their molds.

"Can you help me with this? Can you grab that? Can you take me—"

All you want is to be useful. You put your wants aside, they aren't important. She needs to get to her recital and he needs you to get groceries and they have to go won't you please come?

They they shove their work on you with a smile and a thank you without asking. They know you won't say no you're just sooo kind like that! Always willing to help out but so many obligations are BREAKING you when did you last eat again?

You are choking under obligation, the pressure is closing in. Nothing you do is enough your are a failure you let everyone down you are buried beneath their feet.

But it's comfortable here. There is silence beneath the waves. The water is crushing your lungs as the tide embraces you. Your movements are slow, sluggish, weighted with purpose you must jave purpose you must.

The earth is warm. Your arms are pinned to your chest and each breath is shorter than the last. The earth chokes you as a lover does, the pressure is wonderful on your back it makes you so dizzy that you can see stars underground.

Your blankets weigh you down in your bed, smothered in a loving hold reminiscent of childhood. Nothing can tear you from its embrace you are held, you are weighted you are loved and you are buried.

Pressure makes mountains move, weight keeps the boat from drifting off to sea, choking let's us appreciate breathing.

And of course, you dig yourself deeper. For better or for worse.

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[oboetemasuka]

Order of Attack (part 7)

And the visits conclude. Amane finally returns! I'll add parts 6 and 7 to AO3 later today.

New content warnings for sleep paralysis and suffocation.

Depending on how you judge it, this part could be more intense than part 1 (the initial attack) and/or part 3 (the medical care). Namely because there's no discretion shot this time.

Let me know if I need to add more warnings. Am I still in bounds for a teen rating? Does this go beyond canon-typical violence?

It's all because I had a bout of sleep paralysis the morning before I wrote this...

(I wrote all the names down with the surnames first, and then I had to flip the order when I typed it up to be consistent)

-

Fuuta opened his eyes to a much redder cell. He didn't think it was strange for whatever reason. But Shidou wasn't there. Probably checking on Amane. He's finally left me like I thought he would. Fuuta tried to turn his head, but it wouldn't move. Huh? He tried his right hand. No luck. Suddenly, he was worried that the position of his neck was cutting off his air, but he just. could. not. move.

The door rattled. Was Shidou coming back? Hurry up and help me. Please… I can't breathe…

Or was it Amane this time? He hoped it was Amane. He got the feeling that Shidou had been trying to keep her away from him ever since she approached him without an eyepatch. Sure, it was off-putting to see her misaligned, unmoving eye, but it wasn't like she was going to do anything to him.

Fuuta was so lost in thought that he didn't catch who the figure was until the red glare bore into his eyes. Kotoko.

"Fuuta Kajiyama. You managed to evade judgement once." 

Evade? What the hell is she on about? She did a damn thorough job. 

"If only Amane Momose hadn't walked in when she did. Then I could have ensured that you'd never wake up again." 

You shut up about Amane… he wanted to say, but then Kotoko leaned in, putting all her weight on his ribs. The broken bones dug into Fuuta's lungs, and he tried in vain to scream.

"Of course I had to deal with Amane before she could alert anyone and put an end to my justice. Besides, Milgram had declared her unforgivable too, so I was just taking the opportunity to get my work done sooner."

She's just a kid! Why would you break her like that?

As if reading his thoughts, Kotoko continued, "I wasn't going to spare her just because she's a kid. You would know a thing or two about that."

How did you know… I didn't even mean for that girl to die!

"I'd say we are just the same, except the warden has forgiven me and not you. Unlike you, I seek out evildoers rather than hiding behind a screen like a coward."

That's right… I'm a coward… but at least I wouldn't have gone up to that girl and… and…

Fuuta's vision fell into a blurry haze. Kotoko's words dissolved into faint echoes.

"The world will be better off without scum like you. Goodbye, Fuuta Kajiyama."

…

"Fuuta Kajiyama." Upon hearing those words, Fuuta opened his eyes and gasped. A pain shot through his chest, much more real than what Kotoko inflicted on him. Oh, that was just a dream. Would Kotoko have really said those things? As the real world regained its shape, Fuuta found a green form hovering over him.

"Oh… just you… again…" He had never been more relieved to see Amane, but he couldn't let her know that. "Why… just to pity…"

"I'm just observing. Like usual." She was wearing the eyepatch this time.

"Your eye…"

"Oh, this? If it keeps Shidou Kirisaki away, then I'll wear it. So be it."

Fuuta was at a loss of words for once. What could he even say to this girl who was suffering because of him? She might never see out of her right eye again, all because she went to visit him that day. If she hadn't, she would have been completely out of the way. Out of Kotoko's line of attack.

Amane was babbling again, but Fuuta could tell she cared. She still cared. If he had been in her place, he didn't know if he could bring himself near anyone who was linked to such a traumatic event. And he knew she wasn't visiting because she felt bad. She was always direct. She could be rather confusing at times, but at least she wasn't mincing words around him. If anything, she seemed to have become more curt since the attacks. Speaking of words… what was she talking about right now?

"…reject his evil work. You don't have to depend on him. It's not… too late to change your ways. To shed those bandages. We can be good together-"

Never mind. She was spouting nonsense again. Fuuta closed his eyes and tuned Amane out.

Eventually, Amane's chatter died down. She put a hand on Fuuta's shoulder and whispered into his ear. "I believe in you." Then she headed out.

[radioproto]

You ever feel like you can’t catch a break?

vent art below