#corpse headcanon

[illwilledomen]

Hostile and Neutral Overworld creatures, excluding subsurface organisms and testificates (villagers, illagers, witches).

[reverseisekai-richie]

Aww... Pokey is getting into the weeb spirit of this blog.

[kurogoesinthedas]

*gently touches screen* my son is back

[templegate]

The shadow can only exist when there is light

[quadrantadvisor]

DP x DC, revenant!Jason Todd

Shortly after meeting, Danny and Jason have a late night conversation about what it means to come back. 1281 words

On AO3

-

Danny woke groggily, in a dark place that he didn't recognize, and took a moment to get his bearings.

He felt the warning ache in his neck that came from being propped up against an arm rest. There were two sources of dim light in the room—the glow of city street lights, muffled behind a curtain, and the green eyes of the man whose lap Danny's feet were propped on.

Right. Danny hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the revenant’s—on Jason’s—couch, but they’d been talking for so long, he must’ve dozed off.

Jason had had so many questions, about ectoplasm, about the zone, about Danny’s own experiences. Danny had done his best to clear up everything he could. A revenant may not be quite the same as he was, but still, it made Danny happy to be able to pass on his hard won knowledge and maybe save someone else a bit of the hurt and confusion that he’d gone through. It was what he’d always wished someone would do for him.

Jason was slumped into the couch, but he didn’t look relaxed. Danny examined his still profile, cast in strange shadows by its own green glow, and wondered how long it had been since he’d moved.

Danny shifted slightly, purposefully producing the fabric sounds of a body against upholstery, to make sure Jason knew he was awake. No reaction. Danny gave him one more moment, then asked, “You okay?”

Jason didn’t look at him when he answered, “You told me I’m basically possessing my own corpse, and I’m supposed to not be upset about that?”

Really, Danny should’ve predicted something like that. How long had he spent, trying to pretend that death hadn’t really touched him? It wasn’t an easy thing to accept.

“What’s the difference between a body and a corpse?” Danny asked.

Jason’s eyes snapped to Danny, their glow intensifying. “I am not dealing with riddle bullshit right now, I swear to-”

“No, I’m being serious,” Danny interrupted, pulling his feet from Jason’s lap and sitting himself up. “There’s one difference between a corpse and a living body, and that’s that someone is living in it. Jason—” he reached out, gripping one of Jason’s hands in his “—you’re alive. That’s what matters. The rest is details.”

Jason’s shoulders bent inwards, his other hand raising to rub at his chest. “You don’t get it,” he said, quiet. “People don’t just come back from what they did to me. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“However you died, it’s not-”

Jason huffed an ugly sound, a short and bitter laugh that Danny hurt to hear. “Is it crazy that that isn’t even what I was talking about? I meant after.” The motion on his chest was repetitive, like he was tracing something underneath his shirt, and Danny got the sinking feeling that he knew just what sort of scar it might be. “I was gone, okay? I was gone, and this body was still here. And they took it, and they cut it open and rummaged around inside to figure out what happened. Which is—” he cut off, sniffed, and Danny gripped his hand tighter “—which is stupid, right? It’s not like it wasn’t obvious.” His fingers twitched, and he continued, haltingly, “I mean, I’ve read the report. Pulled it off his stupid files. The smoke inhalation did me in. After everything that happened, it was the smoke.”

Jasons’ hand pulled out of Danny’s, and they both rose to cover his face, cutting off the glow while he curled in on himself even tighter. His voice was slightly muffled when he said, “And then they had to ship me home, right? So they bled me dry and pumped me full of formaldehyde, and they prettied me up so they could pretend I wasn’t just some empty thing, and Bruce held the tiniest most depressing little funeral known to man and put my ass in the ground, and I had to wake up down there.” His words and his breaths were coming too quick, and Danny didn’t know how to help. He didn’t want Jason to stop, not when it seemed like he needed to say all of this, but he could see just how badly the revenant was hurting.

“But you did wake up,” he whispered.

“Woke up in my own mutilated corpse!” Jason snarled. “Everything I’ve forgotten, and that memory is still crystal fucking clear! It stank in there, like death and vinegar and mud, and it was so small, and I couldn’t even try to scream for help because they sewed my fucking mouth shut—!” He broke off into a sob, and Danny couldn’t stand it anymore, had to lean into Jason’s side and wrap an arm around him as he shook with all the emotion he couldn’t reign in.

“Okay,” Danny said. Not you’re okay, just okay. “Okay, so that’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard, and I regularly hang out with a guy who wants to skin me.”

Jason sniffed. “What?”

“Nevermind. It’s just-”

“No, I think we should go back to the skinning thing-”

“I just don’t want you to let it define you,” Danny interrupted. “I did that. I got into my head about it, the whole ‘being dead’ thing, feeling like I was…” Danny gave himself a second, swallowed, “like some sort of freak. A thing that didn’t belong anywhere. But I’m still alive, and you’re alive, and even if we weren’t, it wouldn’t matter, because we’re still here, and as long as you’re here you can find something that’s worth staying for.” Danny rubbed what he hoped was a soothing pattern into Jason’s admittedly impressive bicep.

Jason let out a sigh. “I must really be pathetic if you’ve gotta pep talk me like that, huh?” he said, and Danny pretended not to see him wiping at his eyes. “Sorry,” he added, “about all this. I’ve got some shit I haven’t dealt with, and this ‘revenant’ stuff brought it up pretty bad.”

“I get it,” Danny said, and hoped Jason could tell how much he meant it.

Jason sighed again, heavy, like he was trying to release something else with his breath, and said, “It still doesn’t make any sense. Logically, I can’t be alive. Where did my blood come from?”

Danny shrugged. “Do you have blood?”

“I definitely have blood. I’ve seen a lot of it.”

That gave Danny pause. “Just like, around?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jason said, deadpan. “I’ve got a surplus, so I like to leave some here and there, make sure everyone gets a chance to appreciate it.”

“I have no idea how much you’re joking and it frightens me,” Danny told him.

“Weak,” Jason replied.

“Anyways, you gotta not think about it too much. The interdimensional goop is already logic-defying, and you’re mixing magic with it with your special soul willpower or something. Your brain will explode if you try to make it make sense.”

Jason huffed a little laugh, bouncing Danny on his shoulder, and this time it made him feel lighter. “Can I just say that I hate that I’m full of interdimensional goop?”

“Valid,” Danny said.

Even without looking at Jason, Danny could tell that he just rolled his eyes by the way the soft green light moved.

Danny had his ear pressed to Jason’s shoulder, feeling his warmth, and if he focused, he could just make out the revenant’s pulse. Personally, Danny thought it was pretty cool to be full of magic and goop and blood. Much cooler than Danny, who was way more science goop than magic goop. They’d have to compare notes on that sometime.

Maybe Jason would come around to it.

[indepthpokemonheadcanons]

Yveltal is sparsely written about in the historical record. The limited accounts that do exist describe it as an inherently hostile legendary - suffused with the overwhelming scent of decomposition and emanating an aura of terror that induces catatonia in bystanders. One eyewitmess account, believed to have been written by a Kalosian solider 3000 years prior, recounts being 'stricken by fear (...) akin to drowning. I did not breathe nor speak. I felt that I were already dead; I could only be still, as a corpse would be.'

Artistic depictions of yveltal vary far more widely than depictions of Xerneas and Zygarde, despite it being similarly ancient. While its avian appearance prevails in contemporary depictions, older artwork sees it portrayed in numerous other ways: as a griffin, a feline, a wolf, a black pall. Some historians believe that all depictions of yveltal are born of guesswork, and that humans may never have looked upon it.

[thedyingwriter]

ok so buck and tommy were both basically working the same shifts right?

buck obviously had to go to the hospital mid shift and eddie stayed back with him hence both of them were missing their shift.

tommy came as soon as his shift ended and then accompanied his boyfriend (I'm still giddy over it) buck to his loft and stayed the night to take care of him.

next day both of them were at the apartment when eddie came to treat buck and then probably left around the same time for their shifts and probably got off around the same time too which is why tommy was with buck and the 118 at the hospital waiting for denny.

then next day they went to the cemetery together for the billy boils funeral, all of this goes to show that buck and tommy try to take the same shifts or atleast as close as possible so they both can have their days off together and then spend it with each other :)))))))))

I'm so delusional and in love with them that I'll make any theory lmao

also tommy def won't fit into buck's clothes so either they went to his house to pick clothes or he keeps extra clothes at buck's place or maybe caries an overnight bag.

i just love these bratty and sassy boyfriends.

tommy is so whipped he attended a 200 yr old cowboy's funeral who cursed his beautiful boyfriend's face.

also I'm convinced that when the next day buck's face clears up it's because of what tommy said to the grave lmao

also the last scene was definitely foreshadowing. the way buck said that while looking at tommy.

also also eddie tommy friendship is so precious to me. they are our next Michael and bobby.

loved the episode so much.

[vaguely-concerned]

fucking crying real tears of laughter at the idea of lucanis letting out a sigh of relief at finally leaving the endless wind-whipped halls of the grand necropolis behind only to find that rook has brought the cursed giant skeleton statues back home with them. and turning to look directly into the camera as only a man who has slept six hours altogether in the last week and is animated only by coffee and spite at this point could. the nevarran lighthouse decor my beloved.

[tbgkaru-woh]

Don't fuck with the new leader of Qinghe Nie

[lussiane333]

Haiiii I fucking love ur fics and I was so happy when I found out u wrote for Otis Driftwood and I was wondering if you could write smut hcs for him :3

Hello! So sorry for the long wait, but here it is!

Otis Driftwood headcanons:

Warnings: NSFW, gore, mentions of killing, and more.

He loves blood, especially the one from his, maybe y'alls victims, but he also wouldn't hesitate to make you bleed.

He just loves to get messy.

Carving symbols into you, his initials, licking the blood after.

This fucker won't take it easy with you...

You would always, a l w a y s, have his mark on you. Whether it would be bite marks, bruises, or some other wounds.

Now, he definitely is a performer, and would love to ...demonstrate with you, for others.

Imagine him putting on the skinned face of someone, and fucking you from behind, in front of the relatives, friends or a partner of the victim, while you're holding eye contact with them.

He would taunt you, murmuring filth into your ear, asking, if you're enjoying this more now, degrade you. Oh what a slut you are.

He enjoys witnessing the fright and dread in others, particularly when he is responsible for it.

And now that he has you, he wants from you to get used to it.

He'd be really into it, if you were even more messed up than he is.

Give. Him. Ideas!

But, you're being mouthy with him? Oh you want to argue?

Mhm, he makes sure to use that mouth to a good use.

Slapping his dick on your face, choking you on it the next minute.

Talk now, if you can...

Angry fucking with him is a must.

He loves it. Loves to destroy you, especially after an argument or a fight..

Someone makes him angry? Better prepare yourself for a hard, nasty session.

Now, he is a brute. But god forbid someone else harming you.

Definitely would decapitate them, and use the head as a decoration.

If not worse...

Isn't it wild how the twisted things ends up being what you crave the most?

[atearyamallari]

I've been rewatching the 2003 TMNT series for the first time in almost 20 years and it kills me to see people complaining about Leo not getting a cool weapon from the spirit forge like his brothers did. Personally I would have cried if he had gotten a new weapon because guys.

GUYS.

This was his spirit forge.

For those who don't remember, the Foot ninjas not only ambushed poor Leo in The Shredder Strikes Back episodes, but they took his katanas. Leo's injuries were severe enough to send him into a coma and although he woke up from it in Tales of Leo, his recovery was not complete until the episode Monster Hunter. This episode mostly focused on Donnie and Mikey getting into trouble at the Jones' farm, but the subplot is centered around Leo's continued recovery.

And guess who was there to help him through it all?

Raph, who is considered to have a very combative relationship with Leo, was the one to stick by his side and help him forge his katanas. Those swords are not only symbols of Leo's resilience, but of the bonds of brotherhood. The scene where they forge the katanas together in silence is truly one of the most tender moments in the entire series.

And sure, Leo eventually used Gunshin after Karanji gave it to him and said that it truly belonged to him, but you know what? I think he was lying. I think that he trusted Leo enough to let him wield his weapon from the spirit forge and knew that Leo wouldn't take Gunshin from him otherwise. And maybe there was some pity there too, since Karanji was the last person to draw a weapon from the spirit forge before Leo's failed attempt. And sure, Leo wasn't gonna get a weapon from the spirit forge because how else were the writers going to continue the themes of Leo overcoming adversity and rejection?

But I personally like to believe that the spirit forge went out on its own because it couldn't offer any weapon more precious than the one he made with his brother.

[illwilledomen]

Undead pt 1

This one is a redraw of an older piece from October.

[isaacz]

Zombie clover concept idea based on the headcanon that the humans revive after Pacifist

[music4-ls]

I don't know if someone did it.. 🕸️

;; IF NOT.

... Zaklepuje. ¦🕸️

{i want to make something like this, damn i might fuck my first oneshot idea and i would do this instead.}

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

🕸️ 🕸️

Beetlejuice being your corpse groom? Hell yes.

I mean, it just fits him so much

You two met like Victor and Emily

You got nervous during your special day, and couldn't take it - after all, marrying a man you don't know thing about?

Meeting in the woods was something else.

More creepy if you ask me

Beetlejuice would be happy to have someone by his side, young, beautiful, innocent.

He would take you to the Netherworld

Calling you "Darling" "my love" and anything else..

Meeting everyone he knew

Being called "his wife"

Oh man, this would be a great fanfic.

[buckingham-ashtray]

john and sherlock bickering over the head of a very dead corpse might just be the most ridiculous thing in the entire show

[senior-mourn-watcher]

I had another thought.

I was thinking about Corpse Whispering while writing a fic that may or may not see the light of day—trying to discern and analyze what makes it happen to make it believable (as one does...)

I think the term "corpse whisperer" isn't altogether accurate to how it works and what it does, but only how it's used among Mortalitasi. Emmrich is able to understand and hear spirits more than another necromancer can, impressions/echoes of death, emotions/feelings inside the corpse, as well as communicate to spirits in ways a normal Mortalitasi doesn't seem to be able to.

Any death mage could raise the dead, and spirits would understand them easily, what was desired. I'd imagine any necromancer could put a stronger spirit into any corpse and have the corpse talk—But the spirit would be conveying themselves not the deceased. I think what sets a corpse whisperer apart here is that only they can see and summon minor spirits, ones that can mine a corpse for the memories, and only they can communicate in an empathic way to the lessor spirit.

And we see that with Manfred, too. While we (even as a necromancer) can only hear hisses and such, Emmrich understands Manfred on a level we cannot. I don't think Manfred uses words like "maudlin" or states "the order's knowledge will see us through," but I think he communicated through impulses which Emmrich translates for us.

So... It occurred to me that corpse whispering is an empathic ability at its roots, but it may not stop at undead and spirits.

It's the reason Emmrich sees the good in some people, it's the reason he hurts seeing Johanna, it's the reason he feels almost physical pain when he witnesses the terror of dying from so many deceased at the manor and inside the gloaming lantern... Why he understands people at their core and gives them a chance even when they seemingly have no redeeming qualities to show (*coughs, Johanna, coughs coughs*). Why he falls in love so deeply and quickly with genuine Rook despite their clumsy and awkward flirts.

—On that note, by the way, I figure Emmrich being an empath knows the difference between Rook's genuine flirts and the likely similarly worded flirts he's gotten before from people trying to use him as a leg-up in a social system.