anger appears as lust

he viewed his own mentality as grotesque but useful, like a chair made of antlers.

[someotherdog]

i'll murder you with love!

VELOURIA: 32, SHE/HER, EST. horror- and apocalyptic-focused writing blog based on tumblr (do not ask me if i write on discord). semi-selective & sporadic activity. heavily entwined with @thewolfruns & @finclgicls ♡ not mutuals only!

the killing's in the kiss, it's in the kiss.

rules, muses, starters, opposites, wishlist, memes, more.

[someotherdog]

Backrooms anyone… Backrooms please… or zombie apoc??

[lovcrsrock]

samuel didn't pray. he couldn't remember the last time he'd kneeled for anything, let alone a make-believe god that would damn him to hell for taking what was rightfully his. ( He had forsaken the lost little things on the side of the interstate, hadn't He ? their Father had forsaken them. samuel was only picking the fruit that was ripe for the taking. ) but as he watched collie, head bowed, hands folded, he found himself mesmerized by the sight, the unquestioning dedication of this girl to a god who had abandoned her before her mother had even laid her down in her cradle.

something vicious burned in him-- hot, sharp, ugly. it took him a moment before he could place it, the feeling so foreign to him samuel could not remember the last time he'd felt anything like it. he is my refuge and my fortress.

jealousy. razor-edged, clawing at his insides. the kind of envy collie had surely read about in her bible, strong enough that samuel might have torn the Holy Spirit out of the heavens and torn Him to shreds with his bare hands. if he believed in that sort of thing.

instead, he set his jaw, hand reaching out to nudge the girl's chin with his knuckle, angling her gaze upward at him. she didn't mean to upset him. all she'd done from the moment he'd dragged her into his truck was exactly what he'd told her to do. he wasn't sure if she was capable of being any other way. " you forgot the most important part, baby. " his thumb lifted to press to the rise of her bottom lip, as if he could brush away the lingering remains of her prayer. " you forgot to give thanks for bringing you to me. "

samuel had never tried this hard to be gentle with anything, forcing his touch to be feather-light, his voice a low, reassuring hum. the doubt in her eyes hadn't been lost on him. he knew now, looking down at her, that he'd do anything to wipe it from her mind. " i know i scared you, honey-- i did give you a fright, didn't i ? " calloused fingers released her chin only to pet the top of her head again, as if collie were a frightened animal instead of a girl. " but i had to be sure-- i had to be certain that you were a good girl. that you were the kind of girl special enough to keep around. " he wondered if anyone had ever told her that before-- that she was somehow extraordinary, chosen to be different from all the others.

she certainly would be, after samuel was finished with her.

" things are going to get a lot better now, sweetheart. i'm gonna teach you so many things your mama kept from you. she wanted you to be stupid-- made you easier to control, i'm sure. but you're a smart girl-- you had the sense to run away. to come to me. " his tone was resolute despite its gentleness-- the kind that would tolerate no rebuttal the girl might come up with. " so why don't you thank the good lord ? " a beat of silence, in which he wondered just how far the girl would let him push her. " and then after you've finished, you can thank me for finding you when i did-- and for taking you in. "

[someotherdog]

nightly prayers were as routine as brushing her teeth or braiding her hair before bed. if she had been anywhere else in the world, she wouldn’t need to be reminded, but her time in the bathtub seemingly washed away her thoughts. drowned out any reason, the little of it that she ever had. if she had been a little more worldly, allowed to experience life instead of locked in the proverbial tower since childhood, she’d realize what was happening. she’d realize it was crazy to look for approval from a man that tried to drown her repeatedly, and by his own account, had done that to many people before her. 

collie didn’t realize that, though. for her whole life, she’d been bred to follow her mother blindly, to beg and bleed for her mother’s love which mercy marie had been so reluctant to give. or, rather, she gave too freely and then snatched it away again, leaving collie suspended in a void where god’s love—her mother’s love—shone down at random. she never knew it was coming, and she never knew if it would ever return once it left. this was all familiar to her, and it should’ve made her feel ashamed that she so easily slid back into the role of the dutiful, obedient damsel. truth was, it felt comfortable. it felt like home.

her eyes were shut tight, unaware of samuel moving next to her until his hand was underneath her chin. she jumped slightly, eyes snapping open and immediately finding his stern gaze. his thumb brushed her bottom lip. it made her shudder for reasons she didn’t quite understand. kneeling there, samuel looked like a giant towering over her, backlit from the bedside table lamp that glowed behind like a halo. no, he looked like an angel. her mouth went slack with wonder, irises twinkling with leftover tears.

you forgot the most important part, baby. you forgot to give thanks for bringing you to me.

collie gasped once again. gosh, she was being so rude. she had to thank god that samuel was there to correct her. it had been her punishment for disobeying her mother, but god forgave. god gave second chances. every word samuel said burrowed deep inside her brain, nesting there, taking root. she didn’t even realize it—the voice inside her head started to sound less like her mother, and more like samuel. his hand moved from her chin to her hair, petting her like a dog. collie leaned into his palm, nodding solemnly. samuel had done more than scare her, but it was almost like that was a distant memory now. it was more like a scene from a movie, something she might’ve seen as a little girl and could sort of remember what happened, but ultimately happened to someone else. some other girl, dumb enough to get picked up off the side of the road.

special. that was all she had ever wanted to be. ever since she was a child, reading fairytales alone in her room, she dreamt of exactly that: the princess locked in the tower by her evil mother, saved by a true love’s kiss. all she had ever wanted was to be saved. to be special. she wanted to be taught, too. she wanted to know—it was the whole reason she was even there, wasn’t it? the desire to learn something that everyone else knew, to know what it was like in the world outside the small universe she was chained to within the winesap mansion. her only world for twenty-four years. samuel was to be her teacher, to educate her on everything her mother wouldn’t let her learn.

he was saying all the right things. lighting her up from the inside, making her eager to show him just how good she was, how smart she was. special. “i’m sorry, sir.” collie apologized, meaning every word of it. her face was an open expression of eagerness, of gratefulness. right now, there was nothing she wanted more in the world than to thank the lord for bringing her to samuel. to her salvation. collie turned back to the bed, eyes closing. “thank you, lord, for delivering me from wickedness. thank you for delivering me into the strong hands of mister samuel, who will teach me to be better and teach me all the things my mother wouldn’t let me learn. i am but your humble servant, lord, and i will do your bidding here on earth.” her eyes opened again and she looked to samuel, eyes wide and hopeful. “did i do good?”

[someotherdog]

And if I said possibly… I was setting stage for a comeback…

[ahrigifs]

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[someotherdog]

Dakota Johnson owes me financial compensation for how much times I’ve gone to get a haircut and tried to get her bangs and it just never fucking works

also hi I’m staging a comeback soon I prommy

[someotherdog]

The conditions are literally perfect at work to write bc I have five arrivals and very little tasks to do but my gm and the district manager are calculating how many rooms have been cleaned in the last week and idk when they’re gonna leave like excuse me hello I want to be on the internet all night please

[snowbairdd]

BRITTANY SNOW via Instagram

[someotherdog]

Okay just saw the running man and I’m sufficiently Glen Powell-pilled so if anyone wants to write with Dally lmk

[someotherdog]

I’m happy to get my nails done tomorrow and see The Running Man but I’m sad that I can’t play around on my computer all night since I have to go to bed early 😭😭😭

[someotherdog]

for / @falling-for-a-fantasy participants / vikram & the muse of your choice! story / a year or so into the apocalypse, vikram has joined a survivor group run out of a small town library. sometime before he arrived, the library group and your muse's group used to be one before a death happened that split the group into two. the library group blames the other group, the other group blames the library group, so on and so forth. vikram is a medic for the group and doesn't often leave camp, but of course a horde stumbles across vikram's scavenging party and he runs off into the unknown, only to run into your muse. now they're hiding together in a cave. it's up to you if they know each other beforehand or if it's a first meeting. setting / a small cave in the woods, likely the midwest or pacific northwest

vikram didn’t really subscribe to the whole camp rivalry bullshit. the rift between the two groups happened before he even arrived in town, and as far as he was concerned, everyone sucked ass. the only reason he even tried to look like he gave a shit about the rivalry was so that his group didn’t kick him out. working as a medic, he was considered important, though no one really cared for him and his dour bedside manner. he usually didn’t venture out of the camp often, but of course on one of the rare days he did, he got separated from the rest of the group and found himself holed up in a cave with one of them: a member of the rival camp. it was actually pretty lucky that they found the cave in the woods; though there was no door to close them in, it provided enough shelter that the horde following them lost their trail. vikram’s chest heaved with heavy breaths, greedily sucking in air as he leaned against a stone wall. he looked over at his new companion and pushed the sweaty curls out of his face, “you alright?” vikram asked, mostly out of habit as a medic, though he did somewhat care.

[someotherdog]

for / @cozypines participants / lisa & the muse of your choice! story / a few months into the apocalypse, lisa and your muse are traveling together towards california. they recently saw some people on the side of the road that tried to wave them down, but your muse kept driving. lisa's having a hard time with the whole survival thing. setting / in a car on the road towards the west coast

lisa was on the verge of tears, but when wasn’t she? “this isn’t…” she faltered, voice full of heartache. “we should’ve helped them. we shouldn’t have just drove past them.” part of her brain knew that helping others put them in danger, but the other part still held onto morals and righteousness. she hadn’t been able to let that go just yet. “maybe we should go back around and see if they’re still there?”

[someotherdog]

for / @cozypines participants / heidi & the muse of your choice! story / a few months after the start of the outbreak, heidi has joined your muse's survivor group, though she seems to still have some trouble accepting reality. she's been assigned a task (i'll let you decide) to earn her keep, but she thinks it's beneath her bc she's insufferable lol. setting / a survivor camp, maybe run out of a costco or hospital? up to you!

“don’t you know who i am?” heidi’s tone was bordering on shrill and full on offended. yes, maybe the world has ended, but she was a minor celebrity as the local television meteorologist. didn’t that count for anything? she’d been on tv. if everything had been normal, she was sure she’d be recognized. “i shouldn’t have to do this.” her head shook fervently, utterly opposed to the very notion of having to do a chore. she had been on fucking tv! “can’t you do it?” she asked, eyelashes batting.

[someotherdog]

for / @boogievice participants / alice & the muse of your choice! story / a few months to a year into the apocalypse, alice is the leader of a camp that's run out of a rodeway inn motel, though she's not very good at it. after an accident that claims the life of a group member, alice retreats to her room to have a nice cry. your muse has come by to either comfort her or confront her, whatever fits best! setting / alice's room in the motel camp

alice sighed, full of sorrow and grief. she was failing, and she knew it. she had only really been made leader of the camp due to her age, not out of a true desire to shepherd the group. the very little faith people had in her was waning, and after a security maneuver went wrong and ended with the death of one of their own, alice was sure her position was going to be taken from her. a half-blessing, half-curse. she didn’t want the job, but she didn’t want to let anyone down, either. she sure as hell didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death. sitting on her bed, back facing the door, she let the tears fall freely down her face until there was a sudden knock. sniffing noisily, alice wiped her cheeks clean of tears, but the splotchy redness that came to her face any time she cried remained evident. “comin’!” she shouted softly before rounding the bed and opening the door slowly. she peeked one eye out and frowned, “hey, how are you?” alice asked, as if she hadn’t just been sobbing herself silly a second earlier.

[someotherdog]

for / @boogievice participants / barbie & the muse of your choice! story / it's a few years into the apocalypse and barbie's a member of a camp run out of an airport. barbie and your muse don't get along very well (at least not on barbie's part), but they've been paired up to scavenge for supplies. while out scavenging in a nearby hospital, shenanigans ensue and now they're stuck in a storage room with no other options but to wait for someone else from camp to realize they're missing. setting / a hospital storage room filled with old filing cabinets and cleaning supplies

“it’s not gonna open.” barbie called out, arms crossed as she sat on an overturned milkcrate. the pair had been stuck in the storage room of the old hospital for over forty minutes now, and barbie had all but given up on trying to escape. well, not entirely—she had hoped that maybe someone would find them, or an idea would spring to mind that would save the day and barbie would be able to pride herself on being the hero (for once in her effing life). she just didn’t want them to save the day. barbie cut off her nose to spite her own face daily, even when her survival hung in the balance, so she couldn’t stop herself from prodding. “if you had just listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t be stuck in here.” she taunted, brows lifting haughtily.

[someotherdog]

for / @bitelove participants / benny & the muse of your choice! story / a year or two into the apocalypse, final boy benny is surviving all by himself. he's mostly kept away from society due to past and current trauma, but one day while running away from the undead, he sees something that stops him dead in his tracks. could it be your muse? could it be some fucked up shit, or maybe some mutant zombie à la the rat king from tlou? up to you!! setting / the woods, probably somewhere in the northwestern united states

his lungs hurt. his lungs always hurt, but having to run made it so much worse. he tried to make it a point to never have to run, but sometimes, it couldn’t be helped. what could be helped was not getting distracted. survival was all that mattered; he had done it before, even turning his back on his friend in order not to die by a madman’s knife, and life felt it fit to keep throwing shit at him like it was desperate to break him for good. he tried to stick by a strict code of rules in order to go on living, though he didn’t really understand why he wanted to keep on surviving. it wasn’t as if life was going to get any better, only worse. it would probably be so much easier to give up, but some animalistic part of his brain refused. benny didn’t think of himself as a cockroach, but maybe it was apt. especially these days. he survived because there was nothing else to do. stopping in the middle of his escape from a horde was not conducive to survival, however. benny skidded to a complete stop, almost slipping on wet leaves on the forest ground. his head cocked to the side, eyes widening to a comical degree. “what the…” benny whispered to no one, scared out of his mind.

[someotherdog]

for / @bitelove participants / collie & the muse of your choice! story / despite the outbreak a few months ago, collie's life is much the same as before. in fact, the winesaps only somewhat believe that zombies are real at all, due to the fact they've never seen one. on a random night, your muse wanders onto their property and collie has to save them before her mama sees. does your muse have nefarious intent, or do they genuinely need help/a place to sleep? either way, collie's going try to sneak them into the mansion without her mother's knowledge. setting / the winesap manor, located in a southern louisiana bayou

her eyes blew wide at the sight of a figure in the distance. her nose was pressed up to the glass, hands splayed open and framing her face. it had been months since she had seen anyone come across their property. the television went dark almost immediately, so she hadn’t managed to see more than two or three news reports at the beginning. the dead walking the earth. it seemed like such a fantastical concept, something she’d read in a book. no one ever came by the winesap mansion before the outbreak; rumors swirled all around town that the winesaps were witches, and anyone that approached their home was swiftly met with a shotgun pointed at their face, courtesy of mama. though neither collie or her mother were completely convinced that the world had ended, mercy marie would greet strangers with her shotgun, alive or undead. that meant collie had to work fast. hurriedly but quietly slipping out of the house onto the front porch, she held her hands out in hopes the stranger would stop approaching. “wait! you can’t come here!” collie was half between a whisper and a yell, afraid they wouldn’t hear her but that her mother would. “it’s not safe for you here.” it wasn’t safe for anyone, and it had nothing to do with the apocalypse.