#animal gore tw

[whumpinthepot]

@febuwhump 2024, Day 9. Bees

Oc Saunix (The fairy)

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

There’s this swedish short story about a little girl and a cat going on a trip, and ALL I EVER REMEMBER FROM IT is the fact that the cat eats until he bursted

It’s so surreal

[deadsquidstudios]

And in case anyone was curious…I made this video for that DHMIS cat AU of mine, so…yeah the story is going to get incredibly fucked up.

[sammydem0n64]

I know I’m struggling to fit the role

Isn’t there anything to make me whole?

And I can stomach it, or so I’m told.

BUT PROMISE ME YOU’LL HOLD ME SO I’LL LIVE THROUGH THE NIGHT!

[constellationcrowned]

~Hey, hey Kariom! You need to wake up!" (say Miche and the Traveler are dealing with Kariom having another one of his nightmares ;;; )

They were little more than brief flashes of white---fur, fangs, eyes, all of them bone white---in the darkness but it's enough to make the star-reader draw back, his entire body tensing as he tries to maintain the LIFE SAVING INDISTINCTION GRANTED BY DISTANCE. Seeing the creature up close---seeing that fur, those fangs, those eyes---would be....

"S--stay back...! I said stay back you----" Kariom doesn't get a chance to finish as the wolf suddenly lunges at him; eyes flaring like dying stars as its mouth opens and then keeps opening until it's literally TEARING OPEN AT THE SEAMS. Fur falls away as the ink underneath snaps like over fraught tendons as the wound that had begun at the corners of the beast's maw spreads down to the wolf's haunches with alarming and grotesque speed, as if said seam is being mercilessly pulled by some unseen hand eager for the horrendous unraveling that would ensue. The contents of the wolf's now eviscerated belly drop into the dirt between its pounding limbs---STRANGE, INK-SOAKED MASSES THAT SQUIRMED AND WRITHED as they too, continued the chase---as it continues to run forward, forward, forward, gaining a momentum that was impossible to escape from but Kariom tries to run regardless.

He tries to run even as the beast's claws and fangs tear through his clothes and then pierce through his flesh. He tries to run even as the weight of his pursuer at first presses into his back and then crushes him down into the dirt. He tries and tries and tries; running shifting into a frantic crawling, panting breaths lengthening into a scream as the blinding whiteness of the thing overtakes him as those fangs BITE AT HIS FACE AND THROAT AND----

"---KARIOM---!"

That pressure is still there---the half-blood can feel his body being pinned down against the floor no matter how much he writhed and squirmed---but as his eyes snap open and his breath catches harshly in his throat the horrible, unrelenting fangs and claws of the creature that had been bearing down on him changes into the press of hands; a pair on his still heaving chest and another pair on the star-reader's arms and eventually the forms of both the Traveler and Miche appear above him in the darkness, their own frantic, heated voices reaching his ears one after the other.

"You gotta stop kiddo, settle down!"

"It's okay Kariom, it's okay---! You're safe---"

Safe? Safe? Safe? What were they saying---?! He wasn't---!!!

Wait, wait......

"Kh..." His eyes open a bit more as he comes to little by little, and while his eyes still stung and he was saturated with sweat he felt himself struggling against his two companions less and less. Safe...? Was he really...?

"Everything's okay, Kariom, I promise...." The Traveler tries to speak in a hushed voice as she bends over him a little more, "YOU HAD ANOTHER NIGHTMARE, that's all." As if Kariom suddenly screaming and then bolting up from his previously prone position on the manor's small couch hadn't scared the shit out of both the Traveler and Miche, to say nothing of the brief struggle that ensued. "Just breathe, okay? Just focus on breathing and slow down...." One of the woman's hands leaves their strained position on his chest only to gently swipe across his sweat soaked forehead with an undeniable tenderness. "We're here for you Kariom, so just relax...."

[themeeplord]

The dog.

----

I made this animation a year ago but I'm still very happy with it so I'm gonna give it some new life! I'd love to remake this sometime, but that's gonna be a far away future project I think.

[papanowo]

GUESS WHAT I WATCHEDDD

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Part 2/2

By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.

In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.

So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.

When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.

He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.

The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.

The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.

It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.

And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.

However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.

Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:

Children.

Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.

Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.

They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.

It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.

When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:

Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.

Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.

"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.

Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.

He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.

Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.

He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.

Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.

He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.

He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.

"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.

He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.

All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?

[asmodeauxx]

little eldritch animation test gif ver:

also bonus:

[diaphorotes]

Scolopendra

[artsarasp]

"Shang Qinghua frowns. He runs his tongue over his teeth, and grimaces for real at the tacky feeling that coats them. Not even going to mention the taste."

@vodkassassin SEE, I DREW THE SCENE! >:D

[dumplingprincessextraordinaire]

❤️❤️❤️🥩🥩🥩🦴🦴🦴

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 3

Things are gonna get a bit darker than they have been in the second half of this moon. Be warned and check the tags! Happy Spooky Season!

The sun is ever-present in the summer sky. It sits vigil alongside the clan. Soon after the bodies arrive at camp a patrol sets out to track the rogues, but finding that they have already crossed Shadedclan's territory, it is decided that the opportunity for revenge has passed. They'll double patrols and wait to see if the murders try to cross the territory on their way home. Many are upset, but few argue. As the sky begins to lose it's duskiness, the vigil is ended, the bodies buried, and the clan cats left to filter back into camp at their own pace. Wildfirecry excuses himself to clear his head, while Dancepaw attempts to bridge the gap with the only brother he has left.

Seeing Rosehiptree will be left alone in the burial place, Songpaw decides to stay for a while.

It takes Wildfirecry three days to find the farm cats.

There are Forestclan traditions that were never passed on to Loudclan. Rites that were deemed too dark to touch the newborn clan and thus were cast aside. But here, miles past the valley territories, they live on.

Wildfirecry returns to Loudclan's camp a week after the vigil having lost two lives. No one questions where he has been. The scent of rancid dried blood still lingers despite a fresh coat of oil, and his wounds, while closed, are unmistakably fresh. The clan returns to an uneasy normalcy.

[Whoo! I did it! This moon was INCREDIBLY hard for me. The first part relies so much on my dialogue skills, which, is the part of comic-making that comes least easily to me, and the second part is super experimental, which was so much fun, but also mentally tiring. (On that note please let me know if it's like impossible to see. I meant for it to be a bit difficult to make out, but it's hard to gage between my ipad and my laptop whether it will be readable for all of you. I can fiddle with the color grading tomorrow if necessary.) And finally, Rosehip's experience here is really, really close to my heart. That means that her scenes here are ones that I really wanted to write, but also that I had to take a couple of breaks to make sure that I wasn't wearing myself down too much, so sorry that it took longer than I thought and I haven't been able to answer as many asks as I had hoped to. Anyway, despite early difficulty I had a GREAT time finishing this moon up and I'm happy with how it turned out! Songpaw and Rosehiptree are keeping the trauma dump to best friends pipeline alive and I love them for it. Erminekit is kinda being a brat but he really just wants to be there for his best friend and everyone is getting in the way! He doesn't really get the concept of "giving someone space". As far as Moon 30 I have a science class that I'd like to get finished by the end of the month, so it will probably be a minute. Hope you guys enjoy!]

First Moon

Next Moon

[animationsource]

Scavengers Reign season 2 teaser

[regal-bones]

Open Heart 🫀👑

You can support me on Patreon for £1 and help me keep making art

[unsanctitude]

bonus art of my filthy hag 🙂 she has a name now