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@deadcollectcr
#𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐂𝐑 — indie fandomless horror-based muse. originally based off the character 𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 from ania ahlborn's novel 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣. 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 ( and personals ) 𝐃𝐍𝐈. must be 21+ to interact due to mature content. tw for mentions of death , cannibalism , torture , blood & gore , childhood trauma , etc. slow activity , highly selective , oc and multimuse friendly. 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝓿𝓮 : 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓮𝓪𝓽. tortured by nik ( she / her / 25+ ).
⁰¹⁾ info ⁰²⁾ ask ⁰³⁾ memes
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I thought I had been surviving, and yet, what I was really doing was hanging by a string, loosely holding myself from collapsing. I was always on the verge, and I could feel that friction in my soul.
Fariha Róisín, from Who Is Wellness For?: An Examination of Wellness Culture and Who It Leaves Behind
@rewindtodie asked: "you know, i really hoped i'd never see this place again."
* 400 RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS (READ MORE) ,
garrett doesn’t notice the man approaching at first. he’s too focused on the vending machine’s reflection , watching the vague outline of himself instead of choosing a drink. he's hovering in front of one of the vending machines outside his local grocery store. the evening air is cooling now that the sun is setting , street lamps are humming to life and splashes of light flicker across the dark blacktop of the parking lot. nothing unusual. nothing threatening. a voice behind him says that’s quite a scratch you’ve got there and garrett freezes. he turns only part way, enough to acknowledge the stranger's presence but not enough to truly face the man. his expression is unreadable — not embarrassed , not annoyed ; just blank in a way that makes people uneasy without knowing why.
“ oh , ” garrett says softly , “ it’s nothing. ” but nothing is starting to feel like something now that other eyes have noticed. fingers twitch at his side. he should have rolled his sleeves down before he left the house. he's regretting that now.“ it’s older than it looks ,” he adds. a lie dressed in gentleness. “ CAUGHT it on something. ” but the word has knocked loose something inside him. he can already feel the buzzing deep in his bones at the word's implication. the vending machine hums louder, or maybe that’s just the blood rushing in garrett's ears.
he tries not to react to the word. his mind pulling back to the night before : the alley , the shadowed figure of a woman passing too close , the split-second flare of instinct he hates , the way his hand brushed her arm before he caught himself and stepped back.
he remembers the sensation — fear on her face , his own reflection in her eyes , the sudden recoil that wasn’t hers but his. he remembers pushing himself backwards so fast he scraped his arm along the brick wall , a long sharp drag that burned but grounded him. that scratch stopped him ; anchored him ; pulled him back from something he refuses to name. and now a stranger is staring at it like it’s a puzzle. he forces his breathing steady. “ it was…an accident , “ he simply states. garrett turns back to the vending machine , letting the machine’s reflection hide his face again. he presses a button without looking at it. a can drops. he still doesn’t move. he can't , not with the memory gnawing at his bones , wanting him to succumb to it's pull.
GENEVIEVE FOLDS HER LEGS BENEATH HER ON THE WORN COUCH SHE OCCUPIES. She listens idly as a practiced male voice comes crackling through the dust-coated television speakers, attempting to sell some prescription or other—insisting the audience simply needs it if they wish to be well.
She can only imagine what sort of use her father would make of it.
He's the reason she's here again with Garrett instead of at the house. She doesn't bother even referring to it as 'home'. She doesn't know what having one feels like, but believes she has some ideas about it at times. Like when she's lying awake upon a stained mattress as a party rages on the other side of the door and she's left to pray that the flimsy lock on her door holds if one of her father's friends or customers decides to test the strength of it.
Were she to spend too long thinking on it, however—a place of love, warmth, and safety—she fears she'd never claw her way back out of the welcome delusion. Even if she'd be better off losing her mind to a pleasant lie than the monstrous truths hidden behind the trailer's busted-up exterior and janky front door that she's due to reluctantly walk back through in a few hours.
Anyone with a modicum of common sense would ask why she hasn't left yet. The obvious truth is that it's because someone like her—pure white trash—doesn't have a place in the world. Most of the time, she feels like a mangy stray animal, looking for someone to pick her up and claim her as their own. To finally feel wanted.
Seeing the kind of man she came from, though, she's hard-pressed to believe that'll ever happen.
This is where she belongs: buried in the desolate backwoods that're laden with kudzu and rotting deer carcasses, amongst the coyotes and buzzing cicadas. Where the stench of crank fills the humid air and dulls the senses, making things bearable, if for only a little while.
She rolls her head to the side, choosing to instead stare at the struggling window AC unit instead—tattered streamers undulating in its lukewarm breeze. “ It's okay, ” she mumbles. “ What about? ” Gen asks quietly.
Her eyes flutter closed and she settles her hands in her lap. “ Could always give you somethin' to make it stop. The thinkin', I mean. ”
It causes her mouth to feel poisonous and slick, like it's been coated by the taste of corrosive acid: making an offer to open the gates of hell so Garrett can step freely through, only to find the other side to not be a room at all, but instead a bottomless pit. One which every person she has ever known, or foolishly come to care about, has lost themselves down. But she takes after her father... More often than she'd like to admit. It's what children do, though: mimic learned behavior. And if he ain't a far better salesman than the one being broadcast on national television right before them.
She has yet to do it herself: finally give into the temptation; her birthright, with no recourse or turnaround as she hurtles toward the unstoppable destruction of herself.
Maybe it'd be better that way, though. If she's going to suffer either way, why not at least numb the pain of it while it's happening?
garret leans back , eyes unfocused , the flicker of light from the tv reflected faintly in them. for a second , the room feels smaller — as if everything around them has leaned in to listen. then the commercial ends and another one begins. and he blinks , grounding himself again , as if the sound alone pulled him back to the surface. “ sorry , ” he murmurs a moment later. he doesn’t know how long he went blank. Ttme blurs when he slips like that — elastic , pointless. the gray waits for him at the edges of his thoughts , always patient , always ready to drag him backwards into another life he never asked to live.
he folds his hands together to keep them from trembling. they always want to when he comes back too fast. he listens to the static rhythm of the world around them — a moth batting against the window , the tinny voice of the salesman promising a cure for emptiness , genevieve breathing softly beside him. he tries to match the pace of it until his pulse evens out. her words hang there ; soft , casual , but the kind of soft that hides a fracture underneath. give you somethin’ to make it stop. “ i don’t think it works that way , ” he says finally. his voice is calm , almost gentle — but there’s a distance in it , a kind of hollow steadiness that sounds like it’s been rehearsed for years. the air conditioner rattles once , then catches its rhythm again. garrett shifts forward , elbows on his knees. he doesn’t meet her eyes when he speaks next. “ sometimes it’s not the thinking that hurts , ” he says. “ it’s what comes after , when you realize you stopped for a while. you forget you’re still supposed to be here. ” the glow from the TV catches his face — one half lit , the other lost in shadow. there’s a faint tremor in his jaw, as if his muscles never learned how to unclench. “ i used to think if I could make it stop , ” he adds softly , “ everything would be quieter. but quiet isn’t the same thing as peace.” the words come out like a confession , but there’s no weight in them. just the truth that he's too tired to hide. he gives a small smile then , the kind he uses when he needs to look human but can’t quite feel it, and finally looks at her — really looks. “ thanks , ” he says quietly. the only truth he can manage.
@handspike ( reggie ) asked : you should get the hell away from me. i'm poison. i ruin people.
yellowjackets, season 2 [pt. 2]
she says it so casually he almost thinks he's misheard her. you should get the hell away from me. I’m poison. I ruin people. he doesn’t know what he was expecting her to say , but it isn’t that. they are outside , behind the laundromat , in that strip of half-dead grass and broken concrete where the dumpsters live for the cheap chinese restaurant next door. smoke from his cigarette hangs in the damp air , caught in the yellow light spilling out from above the back door. it smells like oil and old rain and something sour from the trash , but it’s quiet out here. that’s usually why he comes out here while he waits for his clothes to dry -- but this time he's not alone.
for a moment , garrett doesn’t breathe. there’s a stillness that settles in his stomach , a quiet too deliberate to be natural. he feels it crawl up into his ribs and wait. it’s strange how words can sound like a memory. he's heard that tone before , in a house that doesn’t exist anymore , in voices that taught him the language of pain before he knew what it meant. he looks down. except for the smoke from his cigarette snaking around them , his hands are steady ( they’re always steady when they shouldn’t be ). he thinks about what he could say — that she’s wrong , that she’s just scared , that no one ruins people on purpose. but it’s all the same lie in different clothing. the truth is simpler : garrett has never been the one who saves anyone. “ I used to think that too , ” he finally says. the sound of his voice doesn’t comfort him ( it’s too calm -- too familiar -- like someone else learned how to wear it ). silence answers back. it stretches , patient and heavy , until he forgets what he was trying to fix.
“ i ruin things too,” he adds , quieter. “ just slower. ” it’s not confession or apology -- just a fact. “ doesn’t mean i stopped trying not to. ” the silence stretches — grows thicker, filling the space where people usually say something kind. instead , he flicks the ash from his cigarette. he doesn't bring it to his lips.
he takes a breath ( but it doesn’t reach all the way down ) and closes his eyes for a second , letting the world press in. that's when his brain does a stupid thing : it lines them up side by side : her , saying she ruins people. him , knowing he comes from people who ate them. suddenly garrett feels like he's standing on the edge of a sinkhole. the ground is solid but he doesn’t trust it. eyes flutter open before he can slip. his eyes catch hers for a brief moment before dropping to his nearly gone but nearly used cigarette. “ If anyone’s poison here , ” he finally says , “ it’s not you. ”
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❛ ━━ 𝐎𝐎𝐂 !
i know i said this account was slow with replies but man. . .life really said HOLD MY BEER. i won't go into too much detail, but i've been sick, my partner has been sick, work has been extremely understaffed & stressful lately, etc. etc. basically this is just me saying i'm still here and SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING ON EVERYONE !! ( i will get to replies and respond to everyone i left hanging soon. )
❝ 𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥 hated chasing down the ones who managed to break away, hated how he extinguished the flash of dogged optimism that sparked in their eyes. he couldn’t stand the way they looked at him, as though he’d walked in on a private moment. he despised the way their eyes grew to twice their original size and their mouths worked the air, as though chewing invisible food. he ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ it better when they died in the yard, where all he had to deal with was an unblinking stare and a slashed throat. 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. ❞
@demuresdoe asked : ❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜
&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
the words land softly as they ripple through garrett — like a small stone dropped in still water. he blinks and the world comes back in pieces : the leg of a chair , the static hum of a tv , copper hair.
" yeah , " he says. the lie feels practiced , worn smooth from use. " just thinking. " and then there is a pause , a moment that feels like they are waiting for him to say something — maybe to explain , or to simply continue the conversation. but garrett is drawing a blank ( he's still shaking the remaining fog from his brain ). he knows he should say something harmless. talk about the weather. work. something with edges that don't cut.
but his mind is still half-stuck in the quiet place it drifts to — the gray between memory and absence. garrett can’t tell them that sometimes he forgets he's sitting there at all , that his body feels like a coat he borrowed from someone else.
he gives a small smile instead , the kind that never quite reaches the eyes ( the kind that reassures without promising anything ). there's no further elaboration on what he has been thinking about and garrett lets the background sounds of ordinary life fold around them for a moment. the gray is still at the edge of his vision , wanting and waiting to pull him back under. and for a moment , he allows it to creep back as a thought flickers — the briefest pulse of another world , a place somewhere else ( a house that wasn't a home ) , the smell of iron and pine , his brother’s voice telling him to look closer. but garrett blinks and it’s gone.
he never knows how long he's gone for when moments like this happen , but judging by how everything still looks and feels the same , garrett assumes it hasn't hasn't been too long. still feeling like the world is spinning from the slip , he folds his hands together to keep them still. the pulse of life around them fills the air like a breath — soft , constant , faintly alive. he listens without meaning to , matching its rhythm until he feels his pulse slow to meet it.
he again thinks about saying something — anything— to bring himself fully back to the surface. all he can manage is a " sorry , " with another one of his smiles that never seem to reach his eyes anymore but at least this time he meets her gaze.
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❛ ━━ 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 !
hey all ! just thought i’d throw one of these up to see if anyone would like to plot something out for our muses. LIKE this post and i’ll come to you!
KYLE GALLNER as Reed Garrett | CSI: New York | Season 3
how not to drown...
dialogue prompts from how not to drown in a glass of water by angie cruz.
you think there's hope for me?
things are bad. more bad than bad.
maybe you're too young to remember.
you look like a teenager.
do you have a sister?
we are two apartments, but one house.
in the beginning, we were happy.
it was only one time.
i did it because i wanted to change my life.
that's what we do: we step in the shit on purpose, so we have to buy new shoes.
don't worry. i'm okay.
a job that doesn't destroy me would be nice.
you are so serious today.
it's my responsibility to keep you safe.
you didn't think of the consequences.
i keep my commitments.
i can't remember where i live.
of course i'll be okay. what other choice do i have?
fall for the men who love you more than you love them.
i prefer to be alone than in bad company.
maybe you can trick everybody else, but not me.
do you go to therapy?
capricorns are solid, like a tree.
we were never children.
in this life, if we are not careful, people take advantage of us.
eventually, everybody has to come home.
when you need each other to survive, you forgive. that's the way it is.
i've been looking for you. i was so worried.
i can't believe you didn't trust me.
you have no idea what's happening to me.
i was afraid to tell you.
women know even the things we do not see.
there is never rest for the poor.
nothing good comes from calling the police.
what kind of life is this?
it's better to have faith in something than nothing.
i was sure we were all going to die.
i haven't been with anyone since ____.
you can tell me anything, and it's secure with me.
the less you say, the more the people listen.
like i told you, mercury is in retrograde.
i don't want to hear that things will get better.
in this life, you have to be lucky.
if something happened to you, i would die.
your ____ must be really proud of you.
people will get the wrong idea.
so many things can go wrong.
people say it's not possible to change, but i changed.
we must talk, or else we will get sick.
if we don't talk about something, it goes away.
when it rains, it pours.
every little thing is a big thing with you.
you have to learn another way to love.
you could start by apologizing and meaning it.
we must not wait to live the life we want.
you must find a way to be present with the people you love.
freedom is being able to live your truth and not needing to apologize about it.
in this world, all you need is for people to give you a chance.
yellowjackets, season 2 [pt. 2].
dialogue prompts from the second season of showtime's yellowjackets.
trust me. i've been where you are.
i thought you'd be more excited to see me.
you should get the hell away from me. i'm poison. i ruin people.
i killed my best friend. the only person i loved. the only person who knew me.
that 'something' that was in ___ is in me.
why didn't you wake me up?
is there a chance it could be us? you and me?
i gotta take care of myself, too, okay?
if you're done crying, i can tell you some stories.
where are you? we need you here.
you are so close to being on the other side.
aren't you the last person who should be giving me legal advice?
i'd rather keep the past in the past.
are you even trying to be happy?
i know you're too evolved for online dating.
i just want to know that you haven't given up on love.
you should be responsible for something other than yourself.
you know i don't deserve your friendship, right?
we're all like this. aren't we?
i never even wanted to be a mom.
life doesn't tend to turn out like you think it will.
it was all really complicated. i'll tell you all about it someday.
it's you and me against the whole world.
we thought we lost you.
i just think it's time we woke up.
i would be dead without you.
i need to know why the fuck i'm still here.
all my rational instincts are just kind of screaming.
you aren't welcome here anymore.
shouldn't you be in therapy?
i really need you right now.
when you look at yourself, what do you see?
the truth is all around you, but you refuse to see it.
i'm sorry. i should never have pushed you away like that.
i'd never ask you to wait for me.
does a hunt that has no violence feed anyone?
how much do you remember?
i love this song.
i know there's a lot of pain right now, but let it out.
you're lying to me, and i want to know why.
you hear it, too?
we all need things we can't have.
you're a good person. i'm sorry for ever making you feel otherwise.
you are nothing if not proactive.
i can't get rid of it. it's a part of me.
i thought you loved all of me, like i love all of you.
it's gonna be okay. we're gonna be okay.
i can't imagine being here without you.
you're not going to solve shit with talking.
this isn't something that therapies can fix.
you're gonna have to look me in the eye.
it's no secret we're all a little fucked up.
what exactly are you suggesting?
our lives are not that bad.
i did it for the good of the group.
i knew i wasn't the only one who felt this way.
didn't we swear we would protect each other?
do you google yourself a lot?
disappearing is not as easy as they make it look on tv.
i need you to leave while you still can.
you don't have to be one of those people.
i appreciate you trying to teach me forgiveness. it's a nice idea.
it was supposed to be me.
you're a good person. you really don't belong in this place.
i'm not ashamed. i'm glad i'm alive.
you're like, an honest-to-god detective?
i know this is a lot. but i'm a friend. and everything is gonna be fine.
is this what you wanted to happen?
it's called a narrative. try to 'yes, and' a little.
what about a story you haven't heard before?
i never wanted to be in charge.
you were always the favorite.
there's nothing to be afraid of, you know?
i'm not supposed to be here.
how could it not have been me?
go ahead. i'm right behind you.
* 400 RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS (READ MORE) ,
"i never noticed your eyes were this pretty."
"i'll stay in tonight, thanks."
"i can't even trust myself anymore."
"anything to eat around here?"
"i hope to repay your kindness someday."
"you're a terrible flirt you know."
"the only time you talk to me is when you need something."
"how did you find me?"
"how can i possibly trust you? after all you've done."
"i take orders from your father, not you."
"you're not a very convincing liar."
"i thought i'd never see you again."
"why can't i come with you?"
"it was my fault. it was all my fault."
"all this anger and hate, it's not good for you."
"this is the part where you apologize."
"is being drunk an excuse?"
"let me out of here! let me go!"
"aren't we in a good mood today?"
"i was making sure you weren't dead, since you never called."
"there's nothing left for me here."
"i know i lied to you. you can hate me and it's all right."
"i've been waiting for you for a long time."
"what happened? i heard a crash."
"was it you? did you do all this?"
"don't come any closer!"
"looking for something?"
"you're too scared to do it, aren't you?"
"i thought you'd like this."
"you came back!"
"i like seeing you smile."
"i must warn you, i won't go easy on you this time."
"it's better to expect disappointment."
"sorry to put you through that. i guess i owe you one now."
"no way, i'm not doing that."
"it's you! you came for me."
"could you be happy here with me?"
"let me buy you another drink."
"why should i trust you?"
"he's only mostly dead."
"knowledge is power."
"i screwed up. i know."
"we're going to have to stay here tonight."
"help me choose something to wear?"
"i do care."
"i'm sorry, i'm not what you think i am."
"how many more people need to die before you're satisfied?"
"you scared me."
"just try to hang on."
"i risked my life for you!"
"two years later and you haven't changed."
"we're not so different after all."
"i need you to trust me."
"why are you being so stubborn?"
"you don't scare me."
"i'm scared of what you're becoming."
"you look like you just saw a ghost."
"that's quite a scratch you've got there."
"i've always hated it."
"this is the part where you leave."
"don't treat me like a child."
"you were talking in your sleep."
"what are you doing out here by yourself?"
"wait. i've heard that sound before."
"would it be alright if i borrowed this?"
"i think i have a bit more experience with this thing than you do."
"it's not stealing if it was mine to begin with."
"it's nothing personal."
"you were going to leave without saying goodbye?"
"i'll still be here when you wake up."
"don't you fucking dare!"
"you're lucky you're cute."
"it's too dark, i can't see anything."
"i swear it wasn't me."
"that is not an appropriate question to ask a lady you've just met."
"i've got your back, okay?"
"how long have i been asleep?"
"just who do you think you are?"
"i think i might've broken something..."
"i wish you'd take better care of yourself."
"is this what you wanted?"
"what do you want in exchange for it?"
"did you miss me?"
"i'm trying my best and it's not good enough."
"it's not safe for people to see us together."
"don't lie to me."
"i see a lot of myself in you."
"take a seat, we're gonna be here a while."
"i won't hate you. i know you think that's what you deserve but it's not."
"who do you fight for?"
"it's rare to see your kind around here."
"walk with me?"
"i know you better than you think."
"why did you bring me here?"
"what did you want to tell me?"
"you don't even know my name."
"it's nothing, i'm just tired."
"of course i care. you're my family."
"i didn't tell you because i was afraid... of losing you."
"where is my candy, you son of a bitch?"
"you want me to punch him in the face?"
"please... say something."
"who the hell invited you?"
"we need to be careful."
"i just wanted to say i'm sorry."
"we're locked in!"
"don't be naked. i'm coming in."
"do you ever get afraid?"
"you wouldn't understand."
"promise you'll say something if you need help?"
"where have you been?"
"there was blood everywhere."
"i just need to step away for a bit, get some fresh air."
"we're safe, aren't we?"
"how about a little midnight snack?"
"how many people have you killed? how many?"
"whatever you're going to ask, the answer is no."
"you look... amazing."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
❛ ━━ 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 !
hey all ! just thought i’d throw one of these up to see if anyone would like to plot something out for our muses. LIKE this post and i’ll come to you!
