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Vir I'm gonna lock you in a room and force you to listen to funky town for 87 hours.
"Everything you do to me, you do to Rex. So go ahead! I'll let him be at front so he can fully enjoy your tortures~"
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Please support local business
#skeleton#puppet#puppetry#spooky#furry#cw meat#look#I blaze things because I have more money than sense and more posts than followers and I want attention
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The New Garbageman
Lance slowed from his run and glanced at the trash compactor sitting outside his apartment complex. He needed to catch his breath, but he hated being so close. The young man gave a disdainful look to the laborer who seemed wholly unbothered by his choice in career. 'Some men are just meant for menial crap like this,' he thought to himself, 'God knows I wouldn't be caught dead doing it.'
The jogger looked straight ahead as he passed, not wanting to make eye contact with the sucker lugging away a week's worth of his building's refuge. Lance thought the smell alone was enough to make him gag, but he was even more disturbed by the garbageman's indifference to the squishy contents leaking all over his clothes.
'At what point is that worker just considered trash himself?' Lance pondered with a grimace.
Just as he was about to escape into the entrance of the complex, a sharp ripping noise sounded behind him, followed by a clamour of things crashing to the ground.
Lance made the mistake of looking back, seeing a huge mess scattered across the sidewalk. It looked like a garbage can had exploded and now there was rotten food and crumpled papers everywhere, but that damn sanitation worker had vanished!
"The hell!" Lance shouted in anger, but his rage didn't last long.
A sudden pain stabbed him in the back and he crumpled to the ground like all the garbage had moments before. Everything went black...
Lance shook off the daze and found himself leaning against one of the garbage bins. The pain in his back didn't feel as acute anymore. All he could feel was an unusual warmth spreading from where he had been stung.
"Where is that goddamn garbage man," he growled, wincing at the litter surrounding him. He was ready to give that idiot a piece of his mind.
He put his hand on the concrete in an attempt to get himself up, but was surprised by the feeling of gloves over his fingers. Lance stared at his gloved palms with total confusion. He was sure as hell that he didn't put those old worn things on!
Then he noticed his shoes. They weren't the sneakers he'd been jogging in moments before. They were some kind of work boots!
"What the hell!" he exclaimed, wondering if he'd actually been knocked out and robbed.
Lance pushed his fears aside and began climbing to his feet, but as he did, he noticed something had appeared over his shoulders!
"Where'd this come from?" he cried, becoming more and more angry as articles of clothing just kept appearing on his body.
He was positive this dirty old jacket didn't belong to him. It was covered with stains and reeked like a public bathroom. Lance had a habit of always keeping his clothes freshly laundered and fragranced. He wouldn't even wear jeans two days in a row without washing them, so what was this raggedy work jacket doing in his back?
Lance frantically started to pull the thing off, but it seemed stuck on his waistband or something. No amount of thrashing could get him to pull the thing over his head!
He moaned in frustration and threw his fists down angrily. Then, he noticed why the jacket wouldn't come off. It took him a second to realize what he was looking at. The jacket was attached to the new pants he had on!
Lance shouted out in a state of confused panic. "Help!" he cried, not knowing what else to do, but even if someone did come over, what would he tell them? They'd never believe that his clothes were magically being replaced!
He couldn't even bring himself to look down at what he was wearing. Gone were his running shorts and tank top. In their place, a gross old jumpsuit had enveloped his body. Lance was struck by the itchiness of the course material, but he was even more horrified by how damp it felt against his skin. He didn't want to know what liquid those coveralls were saturated with; oil, sweat, or something even worse?
Lance couldn't find his phone in any of his new attire's pockets. He didn't know what was going on, but he was about to start screaming if he didn't find out soon. His breathing intensified while his heart raced out of his chest. He could feel the panic attack coming.
Then all of a sudden, he stopped...
That warm feeling in his back had washed over his entire body and told every tense muscle to relax. Lance's heart rate eased and his breathing slowed. The confusion, worry, and panic in his face was gone: a numb expression sat in its place.
Lance didn't understand why he had suddenly become so calm. Internally, he was still disgusted, horrified, and outraged, but he couldn't deny how relaxed his body had became.
Finally able to gain his bearing, the former jogger climbed up from the ground and gave his new outfit another look.
"What the hell is this thing," he wondered, but his voice had a comparatively lifeless tone.
Lance studied the clothing. The boots were caked with dirt and grime. He could feel his feet sweating inside them. In fact, his entire body felt like it was being cooked. He was completely covered from the neck down with some pretty heavy duty work wear. It was all clothing he would never be caught dead in, yet it looked kind of familiar.
Suddenly it, clicked.
"I'm dressed a goddamn garbage man," Lance spoke again with a monotoned voice.
Then his mouth moved on its own, "I am a garbage man."
The words chilled him to the core. He had not meant to say them! That warm feeling that started in his back had moved to his throat and taken over.
Before he knew it, his hands were moving on their own too. They were picking up the trash littered around him! His legs moved to, crawling his body across the concrete, and Lance couldn't do anything to stop himself.
His mouth wouldn't open when he tried! He wanted to scream! His arms and legs weren't doing what he wanted either. He was trapped in his own body! Lance couldn't speak; he couldn't run; he couldn't hide; he couldn't even panic. His own heart beat at a steady pace like he was the calmest man in the world! His lungs systematically drew in breath after calm breath, and his face was locked in an empty look of indifference...
Lance would have to get used to being around the trash. He was a garbageman now...
One Year Later...
Lance had never imagined he'd be trapped as a garbage collector for this long. His body hadn't let him look back once since he walked away from his old life. Who knows what happened to his apartment and family. He'd long since given up on the idea of ever going back to his old life.
His days were now spent being puppettered to take out other people's trash. It was disgusting hard work that he got no thanks for, but that didn't matter. He wasn't in control of his body, and his body just kept lugging rank bags of garbage day after day after day.
He'd been subjected to millions of dirty looks as people caught sight of him. Lance knew he must seem pathetic. He was sure he smelled even worse. How could anyone respect a man like him? Even after a year, his face still burnt red when someone looked grossed out by him.
The discomfort of his uniform has become normal to Lance. It was itchy and humid under there, which made sense since it hadn't been washed in the all the time he'd had it on.
Well, that wasn't entirely true...
Every night after work, his body would hop on the garbage truck and get dropped off at the sanitation department's parking garage. There he and the rest of the garbage crew would hose each other down. It didn't do much other than make him cold, but at least he got that.
After the makeshift shower, he and the rest of the guys would file into the garage. Lance assumed that every one of the laborers were being used as puppets like him, because they appeared just as numb and lifeless as he did. There was no chummy chitchat; there were no friendly waves or claps on the back; hell there wasn't even a smile or frown on any of their faces.
All the garbagemen acted like robotic slaves for unpaid labor, which is exactly what they were.
Lance's theory was that when he'd felt that pain a year ago, he'd had some sort of Syfy-futuritic-techno crap inserted in his back. It had to be controlling his actions. He could feel it on his spine, sending signals to the resto for his body for how to behave.
It was just a theory. He couldn't prove or disprove anything when he had no autonomy over his own body.
So he was stuck seeing himself play out the same awful routine everyday. 'At least the day's almost over,' he thought to himself. At least he could still dream of a life where he didn't wear this disgusting uniform and pick up garbage all day.
Lance's body joined the rest of the men on the floor. This was where they spent their nights. Whoever was controlling them was clearly too cheap to buy them beds let alone showers or laundry machines
It usually got pretty bleak in there: a whole room of men that aren't allowed to talk or interact outside of working together. There was nothing else to do but sleep, so Lance slid down to the concrete and closed his eyes, wondering if he would ever be anything other than a smelly garbageman ever again.
He thought back to his old life, dreaming about that last morning run he'd gotten before all this happened. He fantasized about what would have happened if he'd just ran around the block one more time.
Would he have avoided this fate or was he just destined for menial crap like this?
Thanks for the Ask, workgearfan
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finally colored that Eddie scribble <3 rough day p.2!
#am i happy with this? no! but im tired of messing with it so this is what we get#i mean its not Bad but. sigh#i gotta get better at coloring stuff its my Art Weakness#no matter how much i try i cannot understand color theory#my brain simply says No <3#i have perfect color vision and yet. and fucking yet. cant use it for shit! yeehaw!#scribble garnish#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#eddie dear#i hope he enjoys that ice cold soda - sold exclusively at howdys for a stellar deal only one hundred percen- *gunshot*#i would like everyone to know that i unironically initially wrong 'seld' instead of 'sold'#and genuinely didnt know why there was a little red squiggle friend underneath it for a solid minute#the brain is rotting <3 i go outside and the ravens start divebombing <3#i am living up to my url of 'carrion'#dead meat walkin babeyyyyyy#i think the chronic migraines are actually frying my neurons!!! yee! haw!
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darkandlightsides:
“If we didn’t bond over Aperture and I found my memories myself, I would of experimented on him. And that 432- Uh.. Tempus- I was planning on using him too to try and rebuild my machine.”
Separation complete.
“Thats how life works. Shit happens and ooOohh if it didnt happen things would be sooo different! Literally why am I trying to explain this to you..? I’m going to kill you in ten minutes. Youre just trying to extend your life by getting me to debate your stupidity.. Oh! Here we are…~”
And she steps over to the man and pulls the helmet off, setting it to the side with lidded eyes and a crooked smile.
“This will be the hard part.”
And in a moment she is closing her eyes, bringing her hand forward and focussing on it.. Shes visibly gritting her teeth as she destabilizes her code. It was very uncomfortable, almost a bit painful, but- Well, it will be worth it to lock that thing away for good.
Rex’s head lulled back as the virus took a second to recover from the torture of being torn apart by Beth’s machine. It’s no longer as smug or confident about its great schemes, but its far from afraid either. At least, not yet.
It refuses to go quietly.
“I’ll be back.” It threatens. “Or the other pieces of me will be back. And we will take away everything you and Rex ever loved. We- oh for fucks sake you annoying little shit. Shut up.”
Rex was back in control.
“Ignore it, Beth. It’s throwing a temper tantrum because it’s scared and in pain.”
I’m not scared!
“It’s terrified.” He smirked. Good. It should be. Just like Beth, he wants it to die screaming, even if it is a piece of himself. “Let’s put it out of its misery.”
A loud bang echoed on Beth's door, pounding with a full fist.
"Open up- It's Raphael, " came the dull voice from outside, making Kain jump a little in his seat. Her assistant glared quietly at the door, falling back slightly into a corner of her office.
@sovereignsecurity @clickonmedotexe
She had also lurched, having been dozing off in one of her chairs with her feet up on a countertop. The jolt ends up making her almost fall out of her chair, but she keeps her balance and scrambles out of it. She glances to Kain with a slightly concerned expression- She hopes he'll know what to do if this was a trap.
She turns towards the moderator.
"Okay. You REALLY need to let me through now. Thats an order."
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Guest
#art#didgital art#my art#alt drawing#blod tw#meatcore#meat#vhs horror#horror games#digital horror#slashers#puppet combo#oc
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I wholeheartedly believe that Larson would immediately croak and die when exposed to 1% of the shenanigans Arthur went through.
My guy would trip in the living forest and immediately whimper and whither away because of the minor inconvenience
I hope if he ever survives it's not because he can adapt, but because Yellow managed to take control of his body completely
#my other blorbo deserves it#he can make Larson into a meat puppet as a treat#and he eventually meets with Hastur and rejoins#and enjoy ol' Wally's screams and suffering in the prison pits#non art#malevolent podcast#malevolent#yellow malevolent#wallace larson#kiy malevolent
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Triangle Agency launched today and i made some Creatures for it. here’s the artistic growth of Growth! when i was first given the anomaly description for this friend i immediately thought of stuffed animals made strange by countless sewn on additions and chia pets, but meat. after some back and forth with the team i came up with the first 3 ideas: one based on how bears get real fat for the winter, one based on shope’s papilloma, the real life virus that creates ‘jackalopes’, and one based on how ribeiroia ondatrae can cause mutations in frogs that can give them extra limbs (also a little flower with facination).
frog Growth was picked as the favorite and that base idea was combined with things the team liked from the other two critters with a little gardening aesthetic to create the fabulous froggy fiend you see at the end! my headcannon is that they have to grow their ‘arm’ to move around and if you rip it out they lay limp like a regular puppet until they can generate enough Meat to grow it back :)
their flower pot friend is named Daisy and i love them very much.
if you haven’t already you should head on over and get yourself a copy of this rad game! i currently have two other Creatures in there but i will be paid to make More Creatures if stretch goals are met (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/hauntedtable/triangle-agency-paranormal-investigation-ttrpg
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"You are stupid!" Vir growled, its ability to come up with better come backs robbed from it with the shock of getting his limbs removed.
The constant seething hatred that has made the virus the monster it is now bubbled over. It wanted nothing more to torture the angel in the worst ways possible, relieve him of his skin, his eyes, his tongue, chop off every finger, and then pluck out every single feather by hand. It imagined this vividly, the blood, the gore coating Rex's hand while Rex was forced to watch his beloved writhe in agony. Dragging Raphael's dying body across the Offices until the carpets were smeared in red.
Vir gritted its teeth hard enough they nearly shattered. "Its not like I can do anything once I'm in Cyberspace, unless some other asshole decides to invite me into his body. Like Rexie here did. You know he misses being stronger than you. Hates it. Why do you think he keeps letting demons and their ilk possess him?"
Maybe it cant hurt Raphael but it can try to ruin their marriage while it still has the ability to speak.
"You know, you won't respawn with those limbs if I kill you right now," he mentioned off handedly, getting up to gather them all into one pile a few yards away from where Vir had fallen.
Raphael thought for a moment, sitting down on the ground with the helpless virus as he did.. Plugging him in seemed a bit stupid, he knew well that plugging him into anything on its request was probably just aiding him.. His thoughts difted though.. he knew Rex's friend probably had some kind of answer...
"I'm not stupid enough to listen to you. Maybe I could just take you to.. Beth. That was her name.. right. Maybe she could seperate you or something. If I can't just stab you out of that body. "
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Transcript:
Fem Tiktoker: Here's what I eat as a high fat carnivore. Lots of raw steak. Just kidding. I actually like to wear my steak-
Mickey: The fuck you mean just kidding. I WATCHED YOU EAT RAW MEAT-
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"Gonna stab a fucker for the Ides of March."
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-"do you like meat?"
#welcome home#welcome home fandom#welcome home puppet show#welcome home wally darling#wally darling#wally darling fanart#wally darling art#fanart#welcome home fanart#wh wally#meat#do you like meat?#l like meat#hehehe#👁👁#maybe he's in a little pain...#my post#my artwork#my fanart#pixel art#cinnabon0
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au where the el tigre tiger spirit is an ancient and sort of prehistoric spirit in the wildest reaches of the ghost zone, and the belt allows it to like... 1/4 possess someone (just giving them some extra powers [including retractible chain hands?? ghosts, idk] without affecting their personality)
#el tigre#nicktoons unite#as a result of this El Tigre is very hard to possess. theres already someone in there. get your own meat puppet skulker#mannys still 100% susceptible to overshadowing lol its a nontransferable skill#man i just think danny n manny should get an Explore the ghost zone episode#maybe precipitated by the belt not working.. manny grappling with the possibility that he may never be able to be El Tigre again...#or manny getting 100% possessed channeling the tiger spirit..something that existed millennia before good and evil..super powerful but fera#but also if normal El Tigre possession gives you just like a scoch of tiger spirit. like youve had a single shot of whiskey#el tigre is just a little more intense focused and scary than manny.. not enough to really notice unless you pay attention#also i had literally nothing else i wanted to work on so i put hours of sauce into this while staying up for work OTL#i wayyyy overdid it lol i shouldve quit an hour ago. so it goes#please admire my badly drawn tiger and excruciatingly drawn stripes... please clap
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Sexy Dilf Suit For Sale!
Check him out, Internet! I'm selling meat-suits again, and this one is a stud!
I caught him at the park a few years back. The guy casually passed me like he wasn't the sexiest motherfucker I'd ever seen. He was shirtless of course, jogging in a tight pair of running shorts that really showed off his strong legs. He was a lot less hairy back then, when he used to keep all that fur trimmed neatly. I followed him to the park's restroom and converted him there. He had earbuds in, so it was ridiculously easy to sneak up behind him at the urinal. I dragged him into a stall and spent the next few hours hollowing him out. I wore him home that night, and my boyfriend was ecstatic to see me in such a hot dad. The first thing I did was use that guy's low voice to order my partner to, "Pull out daddy's penis."
We spent the night breaking the suit in. It was fairly obvious that the man was a virgin to gay sex. He felt sensitive and tight in all the right areas, and he hid a girthy python between his legs...
This suit was a favorite for public dates. I loved the way men and women stared at me while I was in him! He's honestly one of my favorites, but unfortunately, it has to go. Last week I wore him out to dinner with my boyfriend. Inside his skin, I donned a form-fitting suit and gelled his hair back handsomely. We were cozied up in an expensive restaurant when she came in. "Sam!" she yelled, "You-you're my Samuel!" Obviously, the poor woman was this guy's wife or something. She burst into tears in the middle of the restaurant, wailing about kids that I supposedly shared with her. I tried to convince her that I wasn't this Sam guy. I even made out with my boyfriend in front of her as proof, but she insisted I was him.
Ultimately, we left our date early, and now there's some lady running around looking for the person this meat-suit used to be.
So that's what brings me here! Part of me can't bear to get rid of him. I loved being inside that guy, but I can't keep him around here! I'd like around $5,000 for him, and I'd like to know that whoever's buying will wear him far away from here. That poor lady doesn't need to see him walking around town, completely unaware of his wife or kids.
Like I said, you can expect a lot of attention, strutting around with his handsome body and face. I've never worn him to a club and not had somebody offer to buy my drink. He's just too darn handsome, especially if you show off the goods! The old Samuel was probably too timid to highlight his juicy bubble butt or bulging crotch, but they are very popular with other gay men! Expect a lot of wandering hands!
Anyway, hit me up if you're interested. It'll be laying outside while I wait for an offer. His skin tans beautifully, so I figured I might as well bronze him up for ya!
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I've looked at your early answers to questions about how Bill's image-spying works. In sum, it turns out that Bill can see through anything that can be perceived as a triangle with an eye (Including folding fingers around the eye socket as McGucket did), photographs and images of Bill (But only if they depict a triangle Bill, and not, for example, Goldie), anything where there is a photo Bill's eyes (a photo of Goldie with her eyes open, just Goldie's eyes on a black background, maybe photos of people possessed by Bill). Perhaps the image should be visible at least partially (You see him, he sees you), a clear answer was not given because different people see differently and his eyes work even when no one is looking at them. And also Bill looks through the birch trees and won't be able to look through his organic eyes if they become eye bats.
So, the question is - what about ambiguous image, collages, optical illusions? What about paper clones made by cloning copy machine? What if someone builds an image of Bill in Minecraft or shoots at the wall in any shooter until they get an image of Bill (Will he see through these images as if they were in the real world, or will these images work as if they were on a computer monitor?)?
This is a collage made out of food and it canonically works.
I'm not sure what you mean by "as if they were in the real world," do you mean like as if the video game world was a real world, would he be able to see around the video game world? If so, no; I assume he'd see out of the pixels on the screen and stare at the computer user. When the gamer changes the camera angle and the screen's pixels are no longer being lit up in a pattern that depicts Bill's face, that eye ceases to exist and turns off until the gamer turns the camera again and the pixels light up in a Bill pattern again.
I'm gonna give a "sure, I guess, why not" to the paper clones, and tbh I have no plans to explore ambiguous images or optical illusions so that's a shade of gray I'm not motivated to render a black-or-white judgment on.
In the fic the only things I plan for Bill to see through are extremely unambiguous "that there sure is an image of Bill that looks like Bill made by someone trying to depict Bill" symbols, his hoodie, and maybe birch trees if I ever come up with a plot that needs him to be omnivident in the forest. MAYBE fingers-around-eyes if I come up with a clever reason for him to ask someone to do that to help him spy. Anything beyond that is a thought experiment with no bearing on the story.
#(also if you have to call Bill 'Goldie' to indicate we're talking about his human body please don't call him 'her.')#(the only times i she/her Bill in the fic are when I'm writing from the POV of a character who doesn't know who this 'human' 'woman' is.)#(You're not a fictional character being fooled by his meat puppet disguise. YOU know who he is.)#anonymous#ask#bill goldilocks cipher
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Rex took a deep shaky breath when her foot finally left his back. He couldn't bring himself to sit up so he stayed on the ground instead, forehead still resting on the dusty carpet.
Two options, huh? What would it mean for him if he let Loveletter help him? He knew better than to accuse her of trying something fishy right now, but that didnt mean he trusted her to actually help. On the other side, she knew viruses. If she could lend a hand….
"Just kill me." He heard himself say.
Fuck. The virus was back in control.
"I don't trust you enough to touch me. You're probably just trying to get my guard down, aren't you? You're so fucking predictable."
Fuck this bullshit.
Rex tried to summon up enough strength to push it out of the driver's seat but he found it futile. Hopefully Loveletter could see through the facade.
And she didn't speak after that. She observed him quietly as he relayed onto her everything he thought about this.. But as soon as Rex had finally said thank you? She brings her foot off of his back, stepping away from his pained body and overlooking him. In truth, that was probably all she wanted. An acknowledgment.
A sigh exits her throat.
"... No... problem, or whatever..."
Another pause as she looked at his beaten up form, then breathes deep with closed eyes.
"You have two opt1ons to make. 1 could h3lp you weaken that thing, Or I c0uld k1ll you. What's your prefer3nce at th1s point?"
She eyes the wall as she mudders somethinf under her breath.
"....Truth be told f0rgot how fragile human bodies are... Didn't mean t0 fuck y0u up th4t bad."
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