#v; death's song

[danideadston]

@demcnsinmymind

Normally she'd write off passing glances as nothing more, but he had been staring too long to just assume he was just daydreaming; he was looking right at her. She cleared her throat, leaning closer with a raised brow. "What are you? Really?" It was true, some humans had the gift of seeing beyond the veil to the other side, but this was different. She sensed something in him. Something that seemed to put the ghoul on edge.

[yuseirra]

My beloved Fatale

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

ofmd s2e01

Izzy: Ed… what if we just… talked it through??? Ed: Ed: Lol. Lmao, even. Ed: Yeah, alright. Sure. I’ll talk about my fucking feelings. Ed: Apparently the way I shared my feelings last time wasn’t acceptable? Not a big music fan, Iz? Ed: How about this, then, since I’m apparently not allowed to express my feelings through song: What if I just go stand in front of everyone and point a fucking gun at my head? Is that okay with you, Izzy? Is that the sort of “talking it through” that you approve of? Ed: Gonna be real with you, man, I really can’t get any more blatant abt my current emotional state than this! Gun under my chin! Babbling nonsense in front of the crew! This is how being Blackbeard makes me feel! Do you get it now? Is this what you fucking wanted? Izzy: ENOUGH! Ed: Oh? Izzy: The atmosphere on this ship is fucked and everyone knows why. Ed: Mhm. Go on. Izzy: The problem is your feelings for Stede Bonnet. Ed: Ed: Yeah, fuck this.

[sansevierias]

Love of two is one Here but now they're gone

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[tenthrees]

@usergif 1 year celebration: shuffle challenge day #4: color manip / free choice / last played song ↳ LOVERBOY by Sir Sly

Opening up after deafening loss is definitely hard Let me be happy, I've carried my cross This life is what we make it Done with all the fake shit I only wanna be your lover boy Silly fuckin' loverboy

[tangirlisfangirl]

the movie was good but like. cmon guys.

[ancientdreamkdj]

Hello! I made a song with my interpretation of Phirre's enchanting lullaby, AKA what I hear in my head when he starts singing.

I learned how to use vocal synths just for this, and it took me about 2 or 3 weeks of work. Please give it a listen!

[evilvalentin3]

hello can anyone hear me

[dragestil]

“angel of small death and the codeine scene” by hozier, performed live at dublin’s marlay park during the unreal unearth tour, 5 july 2024

[danideadston]

@phasmophobie sent ❛ What the hell happened here? ❜

Just like him, many had traveled to the condemned Antebellum home in hopes of catching some real evidence 'from the other side'. She had witnessed countless groups come and go empty handed, so what kept bringing them back? Aside from one or two times, Dani has always remained quiet and tucked away during those visits, more annoyed by their questions and statements than anything. Maybe it was just the looks of the house and rumors?

He had only walked away from his equipment for a short moment, but that was more than enough time for Dani to get a closer look at the new technology that today had to offer. She reached out for something that resembled a television remote, but as soon as she heard footsteps approaching, she retreated upstairs for safety.

Dani couldn't hide the smile that was growing as she leaned over the railing, staring down at the male from the second floor. From the sound of his statement, she had no doubt that most of the batteries in his equipment were low or completely depleted by now. It wasn't her intention, but she couldn't say she wasn't a little happy about the outcome. "Sorry dude, better luck next time." She whispered as she straightened up once more with a hum. For some reason, electrical equipment seemed to go a little wonky when she got too close. 

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

(ao3)

The worst thing, Bad knows, is the way that nothing changes. 

The clouds move slow across the sky, gentle giants on an eternal trek. The waters dance with fish; the brooks burble and sing. Grass grows. Sheep eat. Grass regrows. 

On, and on, and on, and on. 

Bad breathes in, slow, and holds it. 

It’s enough to go mad over. To become enraged for. To rip everything down just so that everything can match the- the keening lack in his heart. Grass grows. Grass has always grown. There is nothing that could ever stop grass from growing. 

His hands are curled into the ground at his sides. He clutches handfuls of the wretched plant and pulls, almost gently, and doesn’t snap a single blade.

He exhales, slow, and doesn’t inhale again. What point is there? He’s alone. No one will know whether or not he needs to breathe. He’s been alone before- days that Dapper doesn’t wake up, days where the other eggs are with their other parents. Days where he falls asleep in his chair and the ghosts are left to amuse themselves. He’s been alone before. 

He’s lost before. 

There is a sob in his throat. He refuses to let it out. It chokes him, and he takes another deep breath to try to settle it. 

There’s always- he misses Skeppy. Of course he misses Skeppy. He can’t lose Skeppy, but Skeppy isn’t here.

Dapper isn’t here. Pomme isn’t here. Richarlyson. Leo. Ramon. Chayanne. Tallulah. They’re-

Bad tears the grass out of the ground. He stares at his hands, dark claws curled around torn green plant. He tries to imagine the grass is white fur instead, but he can’t find the enthusiasm. That’s okay. The anger will be back later. 

He just- he can’t feel much beyond the loss, right now. The lack. The empty, quiet island where sheep eat grass and clouds keep moving and no eggs place any signs at all. That’s not okay, but he knows that, at least, will change. That’s how grief works. The world ends, and you end with it, and while you claw yourself up from the rubble the world ends again and sends you back under, and then again, and then again, but by the third go around you know what the tremors look like. You start to predict where it hurts the most. Then the world keeps ending but the ending just becomes a part of your world, and sometimes everything shakes but you shake with it and it’s not okay but it’s better. You get so used to the shaking that sometimes you forget that your world ever ended at all. 

How long will it take for him to forget them? 

Bad leans forwards, slowly, until he slumps into a miserable little puddle of limbs. He presses his cheek into the cool grass and when the sob rises up again he bites it back with teeth. The sun is blocked by a sombrero, now fallen awkwardly over his face, that Foolish had cheerfully placed on his head hours before. Bad doesn’t know why Foolish had put it there- except he does, and he’d seen it in the in the slightest tremor of Foolish’s smile, and so he’d kept it on. 

He can’t see them, but he can hear them laughing. Mouse, Jaiden, and Foolish, just around the corner. There have been so many people ‘just around the corner’ today. They’re so loud. They’re not the right type of loud. He feels guilty for the way that they’re comforting him, that he’s taking up their time, and then he feels angry that he feels guilty because he remembers the cage, and he knows what he really means to them, and-

They’re still here. The eggs are gone, and they’re still here. 

Forever isn’t here. 

Forever hasn’t given him a gift basket yet. 

…

…It doesn’t work. It’s a close thing, though- there’s a flicker of irritation at the thought of Forever’s awful, handsome face. Not anger, not nearly enough emotion to fill the void that is Bad’s heart, but maybe it could be. He’ll try again tomorrow. Isn’t that fun? Isn’t that something? There’s so much emotion he can’t feel any of it at all. 

Maybe it’s a bad dream. There were no remains. There was just Dapper’s top hat, and Pomme’s beret. No shell, no dead eggs. No eggs. It’s driving him mad, the maybe-yes maybe-no nature of his children’s fate.

He thinks, maybe, that tomorrow he will build a drill. 

Today, the world is dark beneath the sombrero, and the grass is scratchy and full of small twigs. Foolish laughs once, too loud. Automatically, Bad pushes himself up, because he knows Foolish, and knows how long he’s been away from the group, and he feels sick. He fumbles for his warpstone and- Foolish’s head pops around the corner- Bad freezes. Too late. 

Foolish looks at him, grin bright and neverending. Bad looks back. He can’t bring himself to say anything- he drops the sombrero at their feet. 

Foolish’s smile fades. Bad activates his warpstone again and, though the particles, he sees Foolish give him a sharp, left-handed salute. Bad can’t bite back his little laugh; Foolish knows him, too.

And then Foolish is gone. The world is purple. Then the world ends, once again, in Bad’s home. All of Dapper’s machines have stopped. Echoing noise to almost-echoing silence. Ah. Right. None of the island’s machines are working correctly. Bad will have to make a smaller drill. But he will build his drill, and he will dig, and he will find his son. 

“Dapper?” he calls, his voice cracking. The sound echoes. Only the animals answer back- they’re the only thing that stops the base from being completely silent. Grass grows. Sheep eat. Grass regrows. There’s so many animals here. What good company. It occurs to Bad, suddenly, that they’re good company. Dapper is gone, and his animals are still here, and Bad- 

He won’t kill Dapper’s pets. He is suddenly holding his scythe and he won’t hurt his son’s pets because he can’t trade them for his son and there’s a special sort of heartache to the fact that his son left behind instructions to machines that don’t work and so many animals that can’t keep Bad company the way Dapper kept him company and Bad- 

He’s holding his scythe. He’s holding the Sunshine Protector. He tries to take a breath but it comes out stuttery and he bites his tongue and. Dapper was-is always so sweet. He made Bonnie to keep Bad company, and Bad is always haunted by little ghosts but now most of all he is haunted by the love of his son. 

“Where are you?” His voice cracks on the third word. He stumbles to Dapper’s room and doesn’t think about the fact that they never got to build one for Pomme.  

The hole in his heart could swallow an island. 

Please don’t take- 

The scythe gets left outside. Bad can’t bear to look at it. Protector. There is a secure door in front of him that keeps nothing secure because now there is nothing to protect and Bad- 

-my sunshine away. 

He falls to his knees next to the empty bed. He chokes out, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Dapper.”

When the sob rises again, he lets it.

[thatwolficorn]

WE GOT IT

"ETERNAL DREAMS" FULL VERSION!!

[twinknote]

this song is So lawlight to me

especially:

gonna crack a rib when i get home / i’m gonna bury you in my favorite hole

i made a bloody mess in the kitchen sink / i tried to fix myself but i didn’t think

and

i don’t want to see you babe, i wanna be trapped in you / i don’t want to be me, but i’m gonna pretend for you

and

in his room, in his bed / you can’t hear what he said

looks like dirt, tastes like trash / honey i know you could float right past

[voca-song-a-day]

Today's featured song is: "Miss Death's Idol" by Umbrabyte feat. Flower & IA! (cw: death, violence, suicide, and video contains flashing imagery)

(Song requested by @fuzzytadpole!)

[vampryn]

underrated album #231283: Death to Analog - Julien-K Julien-K is the side project of 2 members of Orgy, but it's a lot more (late-2000s-era) synthpop/synthrock than Orgy is. as a synth fan i can safely say this album is banger after bANGER. it was released in 2009, which is insane to think about because i've definitely been listening to it for 15 years.. which qualifies Death to Analog for my exclusive title of "timeless classics". all you have to do is listen to the first track to want more. the album art is perfect for the vibe~