DUSTY (hiatus)

@genocii-blog / genocii-blog.tumblr.com

ind. fallen child
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Ask My Muse About Death

Send my muse one or a few of these questions (all of them related to death, life after death, etc. so please read with that warning in mind)

  1. Have you ever come close to dying?
  2. What do you think is the worst possible way to die?
  3. Do you think there’s life after death?
  4. If you were reborn as someone/something new, who or what would you want to be?
  5. If you do believe in the afterlife, what kind of afterlife do you think awaits you?
  6. Have you ever taken someone’s life?
  7. Are you afraid of dying?
  8. Do you ever wish you were immortal?
  9. If you are immortal, do you ever wish you were mortal instead?
  10. Name one (or a few) people in your life whose death would ruin you.
  11. Who do you think would miss you most if you were gone?
  12. Name one person you’d protect even if it meant sacrificing yourself.
  13. If you had to choose a way to die, what would you choose?
  14. Have you ever seen someone die (but you didn’t cause it)?
  15. Has someone ever tried to severely hurt you?
  16. Could you kill someone if it meant protecting yourself or someone else?
  17. If you could meet someone who has died, who would it be?
  18. Do you believe the dead ever come back to walk the earth?
  19. Have you ever seen a ghost/spirit?
  20. If you’ve ever had a near-death experience, describe what happened and what you saw/experienced.

BONUS: FOR UNDEAD/SPOOKY MUSES

  1. How did you die?
  2. What’s the last thing you remember before death?
  3. Is the afterlife/undeath exactly as you pictured it to be?
  4. What do you consider yourself (ghost, zombie, spirit, etc.)?
  5. Do you wish you were alive and mortal again?
  6. Was death frightening to you?
  7. What have you learned since your death?
  8. When you meet living people, are they afraid of you?
  9. If you could be brought back to life, would you accept?
  10. Did you return for a reason?
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⠀ The clock´s third hand had gotten caught on a breath ( long overdue, rattling and exhausted) a good while ago ━━ hence, he couldn´t be entirely certain, but it must have been aroundtwo am when the first twitch extended along the lines of their sleeping frame.
They look peaceful, he had thought. Almost. They´d been restless, not disturbed, and he´d always been quick to adjust the blanket. Toriel´s warnings ever-present, yet it had seemedexceedingly reasonable to attribute the pacing darkness to corridors much less vibrant than the ones she´s familiar with ( the ones she strides through assuming she knows them, never ceases to attempt to lead through, so grotesquely oblivious to the parallels her paws are brushing ) instead ━━ always. Almost.
⠀ A hand jolts where it rests on the couch´s worn cushions, lightly scraping the tattered fabric. Their breath hitches, once, they exhale a quivering sigh of distress, insinuated by a word that gets stuck shortly before it´s said. It freezes, right there, where it´s cowering, small and insecure. The movement echoes in its brevity, rousing a delicate infirmity bleeding across their furrowed brows. Gaster takes a deep breath, takes off his glasses, carefully places them atop a layer of notes; pinches the back of a non-existant nose and briefly collects himself before rising, making his way over to the couch.
He carefully places himself atop its edge, reaches out to give their shoulder a gentle shake.
👍☟✌☼✌📬
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           THE CHILD STIRS , regaining consciousness as a gentle grip rests upon their shoulder. the air they inhale over parted lips is cold and their heavy head and HEART beat in unison. eyes open hesitantly and for a second they hold their breath as if they’re afraid of what will meet their gaze. only darkness coats the room, soaking furniture with shadows. every nook seems just slightly unfamiliar, though they quickly recognise the cordial frame of the skeleton beside them and breathe out. HERE. in the underground, where they belong.  

      slowly they use the support of the couch to sit up. small hands reach up to cover their face but are met with tears chara doesn’t know they had cried. their fingers IMMEDIATELY recoil as if they had been BURNT. 

      when they realise they’re awake they realise they had been dreaming. their body feels dense and burdensome, eyebrows are furrowed in despair and sweat have collected in the nape of their neck. THE FIRST STARES AT THE GROUND. their mind is clouded. they don’t want to remember what’s shrouded in a haze, but they know that they will. they do. everything fades in comparison to vivid dreamscapes too similar memories chara doesn’t want to remember. they place their head in their hands. sometimes they just want to be a kid.

     ❛      yeah, i’m sorry, i had... uh.         ❛      --- i dreamt about the surface. ABOUT HUMANS.

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                                                o GOD !! can  I  not  grasp                                                 them with  a  tighter  clasp ??                                                 o  god  !!  can  I  not  save                                                 one from the pitiless wave ??
written by&& susa
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🎼 for @genocii // god, who’d wanna be such an asshole?

 ———  listen here.

rolling rolling, tumbling around / kikou // lonely ghost / jack conte // hello, my treacherous friends / ok go // bukowski / modest mouse // we dug a hole / ok go // you are a useless child / kikou // lion / tune-yards // artificial heart / jonathan coulton // vague hope - cold rain / nier automata ost

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genocii-blog

semi-hiatus notice!

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activity level will probably be very low, but you can reach me privately through ims. 
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