ULTRAVIOLENCE

he's something nice and potentially lethal. || written by kayla.

[arielshepard]

[ I AM THE MOUTH OF GOD. I WILL EAT. I WILL EAT. I WILL EAT. ] you shall have no strange gods before me. exodus 20:3. // LIKE or REBLOG if you’re interested in interacting with a canon divergent, control ending, lovecraftian shepard from the original mass effect trilogy. written by your local eldritch historian of religion that goes by the initials a.x. character heavily based on judaism, h.p. lovecraft’s cthulhu mythos, alien, & the artwork of h.r. giger. andromeda friendly. please read rules before following. tumblr im available to mutuals. discord available upon request.

[monsteredboy]

i’ll probably get to starters tomorrow because i ended up deciding to work on a new theme

[cupcakeblake]

[monsteredboy]

actual official starter call here as i recoil in horror at the u.s. government

[monsteredboy]

-- get a momentary chance to see the thing i've been trying to beat to death. THE SOFT CREATURE that i used to be. THE BETTER ANIMAL i used to be.

[monsteredboy]

i’m going to die when i’m 50 because of this presidency

[monsteredboy]

ok hi i’m here, my allergies are out to kill me, i love the new tmg album, and hope my preorder arrives soon. this is also a starter call i guess until i get a more official one up

[beautyqueenmandy]

Drabble Memes

Rain — I’ll write a fluffy drabble of our characters kissing in the rain. Kill — I’ll write a angst drabble of my character violently killing yours. Love — I’ll write a drabble of my character admitting they love yours. Lust — I’ll write a drabble of our characters making love together. Date — I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours out on a date.   Defend — I’ll write a drabble of my character protecting yours. Fight — I’ll write a drabble of my character fighting with/against yours. Death — I’ll write a drabble of my character with yours on their deathbed. Mourn — I’ll write a drabble of my character mourning yours. Pet — I’ll write a drabble of my character buying yours a pet. (specify what kind.) Wash — I’ll write a drabble of our characters showering/bathing together. Pool — I’ll write a drabble of our characters swimming together. Beach — I’ll write a drabble of out characters at the beach together. Sing — I’ll write a drabble of my character singing to yours. Snow — I’ll write a drabble of our characters building a snowman together. Game — I’ll write a drabble of my character playing videogames with yours. Movie — I’ll write a drabble of our characters watching a movie together. Shop — I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours shopping. Cook — I’ll write a drabble of our characters cooking together. Sleep — I’ll write a drabble of my character snuggling in bed with yours.

[conceptblogfromaconcepthuman]

[kirayukinmura-deactivated201709]

[beautyqueenmandy]

Drabble Memes

Rain — I’ll write a fluffy drabble of our characters kissing in the rain. Kill — I’ll write a angst drabble of my character violently killing yours. Love — I’ll write a drabble of my character admitting they love yours. Lust — I’ll write a drabble of our characters making love together. Date — I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours out on a date.   Defend — I’ll write a drabble of my character protecting yours. Fight — I’ll write a drabble of my character fighting with/against yours. Death — I’ll write a drabble of my character with yours on their deathbed. Mourn — I’ll write a drabble of my character mourning yours. Pet — I’ll write a drabble of my character buying yours a pet. (specify what kind.) Wash — I’ll write a drabble of our characters showering/bathing together. Pool — I’ll write a drabble of our characters swimming together. Beach — I’ll write a drabble of out characters at the beach together. Sing — I’ll write a drabble of my character singing to yours. Snow — I’ll write a drabble of our characters building a snowman together. Game — I’ll write a drabble of my character playing videogames with yours. Movie — I’ll write a drabble of our characters watching a movie together. Shop — I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours shopping. Cook — I’ll write a drabble of our characters cooking together. Sleep — I’ll write a drabble of my character snuggling in bed with yours.

[starchillcd-a-blog]

THE LAST WEEK TONIGHT WITH JOHN OLIVER STARTERS

(link to the youtube page is above! taken from recent segments from HBO. change pronouns when needed!)

‘Oh. That’s convenient.’

‘So we should just give her credit when the good stuff happens & then blame others when bad stuff happens.’

‘Thanks ___! You really mechanically engineer the shit out of that one.’

‘No. Not you. Not you. I know your game now. Not you.’ 

‘He’s best describe as every dark thought humanity has ever had inhabiting the long dead corpse and a civil war-era plantation owner that even his fellow plantation owners called a bit much.’

‘Imagine anyone than Donald Trump was president and hold onto that thought. It’s nice, right?’

‘You would justifiably be fucking upset at that!’

‘I know all of this may seem like an evisceration but it is really not.’

‘I don’t know enough about them to eviscerate them.’

‘If they are the reason you’re sleeping at night, you should probably still be awake.’

‘It is way more important than you might realize.’

‘I have got to get you in my mouth.’

‘A French exit normally refers to drinking an entire bottle of red wine & then leaving the party with the host’s wife.’

‘What a ridiculous system!’

‘Anywhere else, it might be a bad sign to have flour thrown at you.’

‘But in a country where pastries have better constitutional rights than people, it is technically possible that that was actually an honor.’

‘You’re going to want to meet some of the outsiders.’

‘The Queen of England was involved in international drug trafficking.’

‘You’re right. He just said Larry Skywalker and that weird bear.’

‘I really think they should have been those characters name instead.’

‘This is our friend that weird bear or whatever the fuck is I don’t know.’

‘Almost offensively French.’

‘His entire life seems like an attempt to win the game show called So You Think You Can France.’

‘Sounds like a scandal involving selling weapons grade uranium to Penelope Cruz.’

‘That was both very lame & very costly.’

‘If you are falling sleep just listening to me describe him, you’re not alone.’

‘That makes him sound like he’s the guy who played the main character on How I Met Your Mother.’

‘This man - and this is true - has no name.’

‘Even on a nine hour flight this movie is unwatchable.’

‘They’re about halfway into making a decent crepe.’

‘Honestly she is the main reason you should be invested in this election.’

‘Yeah but elegant presentation does not negate poisonous content.’

‘I fucking knew it! I fucking knew it!’

‘You’re a monster Mr. Peanut!’

‘It’s something a crazy person says.’

‘No one wants your wallpaper, you catastrophically weird person.’ 

‘I never thought I’d say this to someone because it really doesn’t make sense: I hope someone steals your wallpaper.’

‘I don’t know why they would but I hope they do.’

‘There is no way this could possibly happen.’

‘This is the kind of reckless overconfidence you normally only see in a period piece movie about a tragedy.’

‘I know you don’t like big gaudy gestures so allow me to convince you in the elegant restrained manner that you prefer.’

‘Which is, and it pains me to admit this, not entirely misplaced.’

‘Real French croissants are buttery pillows of perfection whereas the American croissanwich is an ungodly abomination.’

‘Well now it your chance to prove that.’

‘To be honest, it’s not working out so great for us so far.’

‘Imagine how superior you will feel if you don’t make the same mistake that we did.’

‘Shouldn’t all of this illegal?’

‘Well, that’s complicated.’

‘Reasonable people will disagree.’ 

‘Others might favor compactness.’

‘According to their website, it is closed for the season of spring.’

‘When May 28th rolls around it’s going to be an all-out carousal fuck-stavaganza … until 8 pm.’

‘He’s basically arguing that nobody is unbiased so let’s use me, the most brazenly biased man in the universe!’

‘That is what America is all about.’

‘That everyone one of us should get an equal chance to make a bad decision which fucks things up for everybody!’

‘Stop it.’

‘In this context, we should all be relevant regardless of our questionable life choices.’

‘Don’t say anything.’

‘They should be the results of our own crazy decisions!’

[monsteredboy]

neonnoise:

     “you couldn’t do the silk swinging, 가시 배.  …maybe.  maybe trampoline.”

not that they know – the videos on the internet, when that was of interest, showed it difficult.  where your body would never stop aching, your ankles would throb and whine as they were bent to near breaking.  but that’s not the point.  refusal of gabriel’s abilities is like a fire to loose gunpowder.  sometimes gabriel can control the explosion and agree, other times he gives a rise.  looks offended, almost insulted, arms crossed and arguing for the life he hasn’t – and will likely never – lived.  sure.  he has the attitude for performing.  but not the one that would keep him out of breaking the law.

seyoon methodically wipes most of the blood from their hands.  not enough wipe for their face, already wet and dripping pink, alcoholic scented fluid that makes their nose curl.  bad.  almost enough that they miss the smug raise of gabriel’s lips.  one that speaks of i knew it and just begs for an answer.

without control, seyoon throws the wet wipe at him, and settles down as though such a thing had never touched their body at all.  

     “sure.  numbers.”  seyoon says, a half sarcastic motion of hand following the request.  

like it matters.  as if grades matter with the lives they live, gabriel an illusion that his town barely remembers as more than a story to warn children about strangers.  the twins may have never existed beyond an abandoned apartment with moth eaten fabric and broken furniture across every inch.  

still.  they like offering.  like the idea of telling off the people that made gabriel’s life hell in their own little ways.  

a slow shrug of shoulders.  rocking to stand after a moment, seyoon pads towards the aisle for cleaning.  ironic to be splashed with blood, almost to the bottle of bleach that they pick up and bring back over.  pausing for a display of ziplocs.  quart.  big enough for that organ waiting in a pile of gore.  seyoon tears it open not seconds later, freeing a single bag from the cardboard and working it open.  

      “you’re like…. a mom.”  seyoon settles on.  “like you should have these on you in a pocket.  gabriel ramos, purse full of knives.  money.  condoms.  wet wipes.  right.”

“okay. that’s fair. i’m not that good. and also, i’m not a fucking gymnast in my spare time or anything. i’m sure i could manage something, though.”

          gabriel’s biggest talent is not his flexibility. he’s fairly flexible, enough to pull some pretty scary shit in a fight, but that’s dependent more on how fast he is than anything else. he would be a terrible cirque performer. but it’s the drama that counts, of course. the hyperbole. he’s trying to look fake convinced of himself, but it’s not really working. it’s just a fucking joke at this point. gabriel likes stupid hypothetical arguments over things he would never ever know, do, or be involved in in his whole life.

          then the wet wipe hurtles at him, distracting him from his train of thought. gabriel ducks out of the way and the wet wipe hits the side of the counter with a particularly horrible slap. 

“it’s not just numbers, babe. you’re going to make some college student who sunk their whole high school career into thirty ap classes and a perfect gpa burst into fucking tears, throwing shit like that around.”

          gabriel puts a hand to his heart and makes his best effort to look absolutely crushed about it. he’s not. he was the exact opposite of that kid. pretty much everyone back in irvington, new york would remember gabriel as the opposite of that kid, if they remembered anything outside of the tragedy. that was one of the things that really pissed him off about living there after the cabin. he wasn’t a person - even a person that used to get shitty looks from waitresses for being loud. he was just that poor boy with the dead friends, and the trauma, and everything else.

          some of that bitterness still lives in him.

          he lets seyoon head off to the cleaning aisle and gather appropriate supplies. he’s never liked the smell of bleach, but it’s effective for what they need it for. he’ll probably take the box of ziploc bags with them. no reason to leave them. there’s always something useful with them - sometimes even kyara stores some witchy things in bags.

“i’m not - i’m not like a mom, fuck you. i didn’t even bring those wet wipes. the rest, yeah, guilty as charged, but you and ky are the reason i even need to bring condoms places. you fucker.”

[svsurrus]

                       A RESOURCE & ASSISTANCE BLOG                  FOR INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC & SOUNDS.

[monsteredboy]

neonnoise:

seyoon hums – because truly, they can’t say anything to that.  it’s a fair judgment.  words are a weapon, using them for anything but laceration of others, self mutilation, that’s an uncertain known that makes their stomach knot even now.  not much.  not enough to stop them, the way that they slowly toss a leg over his, hook closer, like a spear through flesh.  they feel… softer.  like that was a weight seyoon felt but could never name, buried so deep in them that it took the unexpected to pry it free.  pus from a wound, seyoon thinks.  squeezing gabriel’s hand as they revel in the soft of his shirt beneath their cheek, lines not squeezed together, but little space between both bodies.

      “huh.”

or until there are words for the things they do know, words and the will, the comfort between bodies to speak them aloud.  

a small shift.  stopping their chin from burrowing hard into his shoulder, softening the blow of sorts.  kissing soft there instead.  seyoon doesn’t get lonely – but it sometimes makes their belly blister, to be besides him after time without.  maybe it’s love.  one of those funny, unexplained wounds that it opens in your organs and refuses to close.  

or maybe it’s gabe, with his bad jokes and conversations and shitty, dumb drama.  that smile that they sort of want to cover with one hand.  sort of want to revel in.

     “so they all want to murder people.”  they say, dry and soft.  “and lie to everyone they meet.  gemini.”

          gabriel takes a moment to let himself be moved closer by the way seyoon’s leg hooks over his. they end up like this a lot - practically intertwined, moving constantly closer together. gabriel reaches over to casually braid some of seyoon’s hair together. keeping his hands busy. it’s something to do, to be honest. so he takes a few minutes more and keeps pulling seyoon’s hair neatly together, gathering up some more of the loose strands. he can braid seyoon’s hair just fine but he sure as hell can’t brush his own, apparently. even right now, it’s got a whole artful mess look going.

“you’ll get used to it. it gets easier.”

          it was something gabriel himself had to learn. but for him it was easy. communication, especially verbal, has always been something gabriel’s got a natural ease with. he rolls his eyes at the description of geminis according to gabriel’s personality traits. on one hand, true. on the other hand, c’mon. exaggeration, like everything else.

          not that gabriel himself exaggerates all the time constantly or anything.

“i mean, maybe not the murdering part but gemini’s the twins, right? two-faced as fuck. talkative. but at least i’m fun about it.”

          he’s also fun about the bit with the murder. he finishes most of a long braid but lets it fall apart in his hands after a moment.

[monsteredboy]

neonnoise:

@monsteredboy

healed, not healed.  twisted cartilage of the nose, matted hair pastel turning dark, red, crusty holding place on every jolting twitch of bones broken, rebroken.  healed wounds are scabs to be picked open ( or bashed, bashed wide and raw with the gore of your own moving cadaver ) to heal again in that painful drag, a body that wants and does not want.  paradoxical enough to make skin crawl and stomach knot as bubbles of snot, blood, blister in whistling breaths.  a static sound to the slammed shut door.  

to the critical attention they can feel from the living room, where tongue drags to a halt on a tooth too loose to keep in place.  pushed left.  swinging back, right.  a loose molar that makes their entire jaw ache all the more.  seyoon follows the motion of it for five seconds, ten.  enough that what time there was to turn and leave has fled already.

and where could they go, but here?  in the end, he’s it.  gabriel has been it for awhile.  maybe they just didn’t want to admit it.  

maybe now there’s no questioning anymore.  only that odd, warm calm in their belly, and the awareness that they don’t want him to have to ask.  no room for his guesses, not here and now.  this time, the conversation begins to them.

       “i paid gwynn.”  seyoon says, mouth wet and red and dripping from the corner of their split lips.  “to do this.  it’s fine.  i’m fine.”

          it’s not often gabriel sees seyoon fully hurt like this. and it’s not the worst he’s seen - he remembers that time in seoul, of course. both of them were fucked up bad after that fight. the blood is what alerts gabriel that something is up. the smell of it is familiar and thick in the air. gabriel looks up from the couch and watches silently. not judging. not really. just trying to put two and two together. he comes back from a full moon once per month absolutely destroyed, so he really can’t judge in the way that he would like to. so he sits quietly. the evening news goes on in the background - weather, and car crashes, and all the trappings of a normal world. 

          he exhales. he doesn’t ask. seyoon’s going to have to start the conversation here. after a moment gabriel tugs off his glasses and sets them and his sketchbook on the table by the end of the couch. silence stretches onwards for a while. gabriel turns his attention back to the television for a moment in order to reach for the remote.

          he actually gets an immediate explanation. the words, and the fact that he got that to begin with, are a surprise.

          gabriel blinks. he reaches for the glass of water he has and takes a sip in order to keep himself busy for a few moments.

“you paid gwynn to beat the shit out of you.”

          just to clarify.

[monsteredboy]

i gave up and hastily did it. everyone be proud/ashamed of me