#Tw: Kinda gore??
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idunno-4 · 1 month ago
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A drawing I forgot to post
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The drawing itself
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voltaical-art · 9 months ago
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do you guys ever think about how Wyll is introduced as an archetypal fantasy hero, but then it turns out he’s a warlock, who made a pact with a devil. Do you ever think about how Ansur is described as this fantastical dragon of myth, but then when you find him, he’s turned into an undead monstrosity. Do you think about how when Wyll does the right thing, he is punished to become more monstrous. Do you think about how as Wyll’s warlock powers grow, his spells get more horrific. Do you think about how Ansur was killed by his closest friend. Do think about how Wyll was cast out by the most important person in his life. do you guys ever think about Ansur and Wyll.
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fogmoo · 11 months ago
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Kabru 🗡️
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Stanley wasn't sure if he was supposed to be dead. He wasn't all too sure if he was supposed to be alive, either.
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He was... somewhere. He didn't know where exactly, but it didn't matter. Nothing really seemed to matter all that much in this strange place. Compared to the unfathomable expanse of nothingness that surrounded him, everything else practically paled in comparison. Still, Stanley felt as though this all-consuming abyss that kept him prisoner within its dark maw deserved a name; at the very least, a title. Yet, it didn't feel right to call this place anything. Death too egregious, and Life too extroadinary; either terms felt far too extreme to his liking. There was nothing particularly hideous nor amazing about where he was. He was simply somewhere in-between.
For as long as he could remember, Stanley's world was just that. This somewhere; this in-between of not quite Death and not quite Life. This empty, greedy abyss that seemed to swallow him whole, stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. There was no sky, no ground, no anything; only the daunting dakness engulfing his every senses and leaving him horribly, hopelessly blank.
That wasn't all there was to it, however. This... somewhere, it was more than just a lifeless void.
Stanley wasn't sure if he could find the right words to properly describe it. He didn't think he could ever come to fully understand the feeling himself, but. Somehow, the abyss felt... hungry. Unimaginably, insatiably, and unbearably hungry.
The hunger seemed to eat away at Stanley, tearing off pieces of him chunk by chunk, piece by piece. With every blink, another part of himself seemed to disappear into the ravenous darkness around him. The void never took much at once, only pieces; nigh imperceptible impossibly tiny crumbs of what made him- so little that they should have hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. But Stanley noticed. He noticed every particle, every atom that was taken away from him by this greedy hunger. The darkness was eating him; digesting him.
It was as though hunger was all that mattered in this somewhere, this stomach; the world itself a single immense digestive system. He could practically feel the void's biting hunger pangs reverberate through his bones. It was so hungry, so hungry.
The dark ate him slowly, ripping him apart from inside out and outside in. It took his flesh first; stealing away the muscles and fat beneath the skin, leaving behind nothing but meager skin stretched over bone. Sometimes, not even his bones were given the luxury of being spared, and he would find himself with an odd dip in his side where the abyss had taken a rib or two; or with half his face lopsidedly sagging into a limp mess with no muscles, fat, nor eye socket to properly hold up the skin of his face onto his skull.
The hunger took without mercy, without order nor preference. It ate anything, everything, as long it helped abate the forever stabbing, starving desperation that painfully twisted and tore at its non-existent stomach. It never really was satisfied.
It got worse when it started eating his memories.
Stanley despised the thought of losing more of himself than simply his physical body to this greedy void. However, what terrified him far more than the notion that this insatiable hunger could breach even his mind, was the fact that he couldn't remember which memories it took.
Stanley couldn't remember much; before the darkness; before the endless hunger. He liked to imagine, though, of what he could have been before. He'd probably had a warm home, warmer than the cold, cold abyss. He'd probably had a loving family. Probably. He couldn't remember.
Everything turned unsure when his own mind started failing on him. Stanley tried to cling to what little he knew. He had his name held tight in his iron clad grip, repeating it to himself like a mantra. He would try and keep track of time, but it was all in vain. Time didn't seem to matter in the face of hunger. Perhaps it had been years since Stanley's arrival; hundred, maybe even thousands. Or, perhaps it had only been a few days, weeks, months. Stan once had a fleeting, terrifying thought that maybe Time too was already victim to the darkness' insatiable hunger.
However, as much as Stan could forget his past, his identity, and life, perhaps the most tragic loss to him greater than anything else was the memory of Him.
He was important to Stanley. He couldn't remember why, but he was. There was nothing of Him left in his memories. No face, no name; not even why He mattered to him in the first place. All he knew was that the loss of Him had struck him with such profound heartache and sorrow that it had left him weeping helplessly for so long, unable to move and rooted in one spot for days, weeks, years. He couldn't remember how long.
Stan was only snapped out of his comatose stupor by His hand.
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It was all that was left of Him, other than the knowledge of His past existence. It was warm, a glowing red hand that pulsed almost reassuringly within Stanley's own, its long six digits curled tightly and firmly around his hand, never once faltering in its grip. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't have it. He's had it clutched within his own cold, rough palms like a lifeline since forever; every step he took and every move he made done hand in hand with Him.
Desperately, frantically, he held onto His hand, never once letting it go. Losing the hand meant losing Him for good, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to cope with the consequences of that all alone.
However, ocasionally, even the the comforting presence of His hand was unable to keep his mind anchroed for too long, and Stanley would lose track of his memories. Plagued by odd laspes of utter emptiness, Stanley would suddenly forget. His own name, his face, everything he knew and remembered would slip withut warning between his fingers like sand; streaming down, down, down and getting lost in the gaping mouth of the void below him. He would wander aimlessly with no real destination in mind, simply roaming somwhere, anywhere.
He would come across all sorts of sights during these odd episodes of his. He'd crossed paths with hundreds upon thousands of partically decomposed remnants of once living, breathing organisms; All of them endeniably, for the lack of better words: dead. He'd walked past entire forests; enormous clusters of tall pine trees completely uprooted and floating in a massive mass of rotting leaves and half digested bark. He'd walked past countless animals, big and small, all in various stages of digestion. Animals always seemed to rot away faster than anything else, and Stanley wasn't so sure what that meant for him.
Once, Stan had somehow even found his way before the destroyed remains of a universe.
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It was dead. There was no other way to describe the state it was in. He hadn't even known it was possible for entire universes to simply... die. Stolen away from its rightful place in the starry night sky.
The scene was everything he'd thought impossible to take place in this all-consuming abyss. It was extroadinary. A veritable bursting cacophany of light and heat. It was as though the universe's explosion had been paused at just the right moment, frozen in time at the very moment of its heat death. Its particles flickered, undulating softly and shifting ever so slightly like looking through a warped window. If Stanley stood still enough, and listened closely, he thought he could even hear the softest sound of the shattered screams of the broken remains of the universe ringing silently in the air. It was as ethereal as it was haunting.
The thought of the unimaginable power required to be able annihilate entire universes just like that... It scared Stan.
Stanley may not be sure of anything anymore, but as he watched the debris swirl gently in the blinding epicenter of the shattered universe from afar, he knew with a certainty that he didn't think he possessed anymore, that he did not belong here.
Part 1/2
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sweetmctart · 1 month ago
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when you choke on the mouthwash or something
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oroontheheels · 1 month ago
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Just found out there was a game before Mouthwashing and it has Cury in it.
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bunnieswithknives · 2 months ago
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How much can you fit under your skin?
For @warning-heckboop's AU :3
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maskofnova · 10 months ago
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If sega were cooler and let them get more injured, I imagine the freakout Surge would have about what she is would be next level.
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bamsara · 4 months ago
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Holds a tiny microphone up to you
What show and or movie do you think has the best food
GOLDEN KAMUY!!!! GOLDEN KAMUY
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This manga has everything: violence, comedy, tragedy, canonically transfem character, in-deph analyzation of PTSD from war and how it affects people in different ways, civilian and soldier, main character who's this dude that is so goofy but also so hell bent on protecting the people he cares about that he's nicknamed 'Sugimoto the Immortal' because dude goes Sicko mode that not even a bullet or knife to the head can stop him, found family between him and the main young girl, another male character who the author when everytime someone asks him to sexualize one of the female characters the author makes his pecs bigger instead, a whole lotta homosexuality happening, a look into the Ainu indigenous people of Japan's culture, and more
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and also the food
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Sorry I just took this ask as an excuse to talk about Golden Kamuy lmao
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ochiody · 1 month ago
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skilltober: pain threshold
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fraternum-momentum · 26 days ago
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TRICK OR TREATTTTT
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TRICK !!!! NOW GIVE ME UR HEART !!!!!!
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drathe · 1 year ago
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The Dark Urge
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Goretober Day 10: Horns
Content Warning: alcohol
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WHAT DO YOU MEAN FLUFF DOESNT COUNT FOR GORETOBER.
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genesisvirus · 2 months ago
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don't you love it when you and your buddies get horrifically disfigured
just wanted to draw these guys. these lineups aren't nessesarily ship pairings (except oren and pinki since they're canon lmaoo..) i just wanted to pair up some characters. i think they're neat idk
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starry-bi-sky · 8 months ago
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my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out
and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.
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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 
Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.
He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 
Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 
Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  
He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 
Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 
He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 
He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  
He has no mouth, but he must scream. 
Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 
Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 
Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 
Scrappy is just not enough. 
He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 
Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 
But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 
Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 
He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 
Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.
Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 
Being dead is agony. 
Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 
His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 
In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 
Being dead hurts. 
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affectionatecorpse · 5 months ago
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Okay so I see some people are debating what the monster from Still Wakes the Deep is. I'm inspired by the support from my Death Angel post, so I'm gonna try giving an analysis. Now science is not my strong suit, I'm much better at zoology, but here we go.
Of course, spoilers ahead!
So, the entity comes to light in act one. While Caz is being yelled at by his power drunk boss, Rennick, a worker going by the name Gibbo calls up to say there's an issue with the drill, something highlighted earlier by another worker. Rennick orders the drilling anyway, and thus begins the nightmare, as the drill seems to unearth and awaken a destructive parasite out for revenge. But I don't think that's as deep as it goes, pun intended.
Let's say, the creature is a parasite. A form of near sentient bacteria, though take that description with a grain of salt, I'm no scientist. Parasites simply cannot live on their own. That's an objective fact. They need a host. They exist within another for survival and breeding purposes, and multiply and spread through the body of another.
Parasites, bacteria and even fungi can live underground for years, and have been discovered to do so. Ancient lifeforms have been discovered just under the surface of earth, let alone deep underneath the ground and in the bottom of our oceans, one of the most complex and diverse biomes that our current science has barely scratched the surface of. It's highly likely this creature is a self replicating bacteria or parasite that was unearthed by the drill, and took up new hosts to survive in this change of environment.
But not every host worked. You can see half transformed, mutilated bodies everywhere, and some that haven't even changed at all. These bodies could not support the parasite and shortly died.
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However, a few select hosts DID end up surviving; Gibbo, Muir, Rennick, Addair and Trots. It's unclear what sets these people apart from the others, and I don't know enough about this topic to claim an answer. But I certainly do think these folks died soon into the transformation, and are not fully conscious in the body. They frequently repeat terms and phrases, and never say anything you might expect from an entity possessing them, implying it's borrowing words and sentences that have been said by the host before, in other circumstances.
The entity plays with Caz's memories and definitely the others' too, though not all of them good. It wouldn't be a surprise to realise that's where it's getting information about it's host, as it reads the memories inside the brain to learn faces, names, and even the host's personality. Which makes me wonder, does it even realise what it looks like? Does the creature itself actually realise it's a parasite? Or does it completely and fully believe it is the person it's connected itself to? It almost downloads their personality and tries to pretend like everything is completely normal.
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Let's talk about arguably the best monster (in my opinion), Muir. Muir moves about the area he frequently worked as what I assume was an engineer. He roams the familiar ground, almost unsure of why he's by himself. He often calls out to his coworkers, wondering out loud why they're treating him like he's different. Sure, this could be the real Muir's consciousness slipping in and out of the seams, but it's highly unlikely he would still be alive. Much like the zombie fungus, as it's often called, the host is not alive when the fungus is controlling it, and is merely a puppet. If the spiders it was corrupting could talk, I daresay, they'd be acting like them. Taking their place in the world, even if they don't realise it.
But every animal needs to eat. And eventually, that body is going to run out of tasty, tasty neurons. Like I said earlier, a parasite needs to spread. It'll breed, then spread to another to keep it's species alive. By infiltrating a 'pack' of animals, it will take anything to spread to the others. Which is exactly what the parasite does whenever it sees another human. Either that, or it will consume them, theoretically to feed the host so it stays alive, while keeping those tasty, tasty neurons for itself. You can almost see this process with Innes, as the elevator ascends without him, and you just faintly see Muir doing something in the distance. Likely consuming him for nutrients, as he was not connected to the parasite yet.
Next, there's Addair.
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Addair, much like Muir, patrols familiar ground. Even though Addair himself wasn't even in that area when the drill struck. Now Muir was actively in that familiar space in the beginning, and it's safe to assume that's his place of transformation. But Addair was eating in the cafeteria when the incident happened, not deep down in the engine. Did he go down when the impact happened, while Caz was unconscious? Maybe. But the lights were fine then, and the engine wasn't the problem, so he didn't need a reason to. Plus, he doesn't seem like the type to be work dedicated, more inconvenience dedicated. Considering what I said about the parasite (badly) taking their place in society, did it go to his place of work after detecting that as his 'natural environment', per se?
Plus, unlike Muir, who greets the situation with quotes of confusion, fear and anxiety, Addair is instantly aggressive. Even an asshole like Addair is likely to panic if conscious in this situation, so the nervousness was Gibbo and Muir exclusive. But Addair and Rennick become immediately angry upon seeing Caz, as they actively disliked him in life, and so the parasite processes him as a foe to it's host. I thought that was neat.
Now another take I have admittedly heard from several other people, but I thought was worth mentioning. The monsters are incredibly similar to sea creatures. Which means this underwater bacteria was possibly leaking out already, and transforming our animals, not enough to completely corrupt them, but enough to twist their bodies. Think of the appearances of deep, deep sea creatures, such as the anglerfish. Isn't it possible this parasite was responsible for their uncanny appearance, in this universe? Muir especially looks like a spider crab, or perhaps even a bigfin squid.
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Which again, is a deep sea creature. Rennick also reminds me of a blobfish once removed from the pressure of the deep sea. Addair seems very jellyfish-like, but may be something else very... tick-like. And even Trots gives me major merfolk vibes, with how untouched his torso is in comparison to his lower half.
This parasite could have been feeding off the neurons and breeding through our very ecosystem as the ground slowly gave away above it. The drill unearthing the source likely gave it a burst of control as so much energy was released at once, hence why it was so fast to literally spiral out of control.
But Scotland, by all means, is not the only place in the world connected to the ocean. Sure, they destroyed this batch, but other forms of this parasite live on elsewhere on earth. And the explosion may not have even destroyed it. It definitely would've destroyed the host bodies, yes, but certain bacterias can survive impressive damage, even heat hot enough to burn off human flesh. We'd best hope this is not one of those bacterias.
I didn't really get as far with this observation as I did with other horror studies, but I had fun nonetheless! Like I said, I'm really better with zoology (hence the sudden enthusiasm when I started on sea creatures), but I loved Still Wakes the Deep SO much that I just wanted to write down my thoughts. If you have any other theories, feel free to add them!
Also if I used your pictures/gifs and you would like me to add credit, I am so so sorry, I will absolutely add that as soon as you say so, I just got most of these off Google and couldn't find most the original sources. So yeah if you'd like me to add your name and mention, or you want me to remove it in general, feel free to just say and I'll add it, I don't bite I promise. Well... I won't bite YOU.
Sorry sorry, had to make a zombie reference--
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