#eye horror mention tw

[reidhalstead]

Reid’s eyes flash in the dark, picturing a bloody scene of gore splayed haphazardly in the pit — a self portrait of himself as seen from a birds-eye view. A curled, foetal skeleton crumbling to ash. It puts perspective on how many times he can envision his death before he expects to wake up from a nightmare. He's still in the depths of believing a brutal scythe is coming to take his head, his heart — and his soul.

“Would they ever know?” He isn’t sure they’d even know now, in the violence of this defeat. Reid’s crumbs of lost pride don’t allow him to ask her if she’d tell them of his demise; if she’d end them too, in some pitiful little tantrum. It has his gaze clouding over, blurring Nisha out of focus.

She’s really schooling him in hunter behaviour? He’s in his head about how he wants to skitter away from her touch like she’s taken a carving blade and sliced into him. Reid wonders if he’d feel it as he bleeds, or if the bubbling of his skin would elicit a scream if the walls ripped away and left them to the daylight. He imagines his eyes boiling first; deprived for so long, thrust into the blinding light. As though resurfacing from the depths too quietly and shattering the eardrums.

“Don’t talk about my sisters like you know them.” Left out, is the rhetorical part where Reid doesn’t anymore. He's still learning — had been, figuring out who his sisters had become whilst he kept a distance. Broken, is a theme he's noticing is the Halstead curse. "I see you all the time — but we're not fucking friends, Eleazar." It hangs like a lead weight on his tongue, making him want to hack at the idea.

She's the face he's seen for months, so much that he's beginning to find it hard to pull forth anything else besides his sire. And her smile is as infuriating as it is a beautiful thing he wants to squeeze out of shape with dirtied fingers. She's cleaning him and he's accepting it because it doesn't change anything. He isn't worried; he isn't — there's nothing there to think about.

His eyes travel to the glimmer of metal in between long fingers. His arm quakes when the heaviness is dropped from around his wrist. It coils in towards his chest, to rub the rawness that knits itself over, fresh again. Reid can't do much with three other limbs shackled. So his protests die on his tongue as he shifts uncomfortably to obey. He hates that he does, but his mind is stuttering over trying to find a way to use this to his advantage.

"Will you leave it off?" His voice quietens, almost querying the idea; what can she see him doing with one not wrapped around his wrist. "The chain." It'd been months of being trapped in a small area, made to feel all that more beastly; a rat caged, running frenzied in a circle with no escape or direction. "I can't do anything to you." He's tried, he's bitten and bared teeth, and scratched and punched and yelled —

He has to play her game if he ever thinks to win. He's tried it his way; with righteous morals and dying pride; dignity eradicated. He can only beat a monster he supposes, if he becomes a worse one. There's no hatred he feels that rivals the one that consumes him about his own existence.

He resists jerking away from the touch on his back, rolling over scars and the old memories of where he's torn his skin against the cavern behind him, forced to sit or lay on the hard, jagged ground. There are verbena-marked circles healed a pinkish colour; stripes of old warfare littering the skin. But she's seen most of that before. She's seen parts of him that nobody else has for years. Hate isn't a strong enough word for what he feels for this woman.

Cutting the silence of the cloth against his skin and with Nisha's presence being so close, he could snap his head back and headbutt her— he doesn't, because he turns his head slowly to the side, glancing her behind him in his periphery: "Will I be one of your adoring ghosts at the end of this?" a beat, "Never at peace."

"Maybe." Nisha said with a shrug. "I don't think your sisters would have appreciated you dying, though." And, for once, she wasn't saying that in a way to hurt him. Or to get him to see some form of light. It was a fact. Now that he was talking to his sisters again, Nisha knew that Reid dying, by his own hand or another's, would hurt them immensely. She couldn't imagine him doing it on purpose. But not thinking things through and then going after Markus...

Well. Nisha had saved him from that potential death.

"Most do. Some don't." Nisha said as she finished with one arm and moved to the next. "Annabelle doesn't. Or didn't." She pointed out. Would most Hunter's attack? Yes. Did all? No. But that didn't mean Nisha liked them. She hated all of them. "You're not friends, and yet, you've hung out on multiple occasions?" Her eyebrows rose as her eyes shifted to meet his. He was close to her now, hissing directly into her face.

She's dead. Nisha couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her lips. She wondered if that was true or if it was just one of Reid's lies. She'd caught him in a few, over the years. Not that he knew about it. Nisha kept a constant eye on him. "One less thing to worry about, then." She said as she finished cleaning his other arm. She pulled a key from her pocket and then unclasped the shackle that was on his left wrist. She placed the key back in her pocket. "Turn around, please, so I can clean off your back."

[constellationcrowned]

🐉 (for kariom)

Send ‘ 🐉 ’ for my muse to tell a myth / legend / folktale that they know

"A story....?" Kariom blinks, his words coming out around the bite of bread he'd just taken. This wasn't an uncommon conversation for either of them---and they were something that the half-blood enjoyed---and yet..... "......."

He takes another bite of his roll if only to buy himself more time. Wouldn't it be nicer to share a lighthearted story? Something fanciful and stupid like one of Bo's stories? Something LESS IMMEDIATE AND TRUE...? Alas, there was only one tale he could tell; the same one that was looming larger with every step the star-reader took, the same one that hadn't remained a mere story for long.

"When I was little....well, younger---" Kariom makes a vague gesture with one hand to indicate a rough height, "---Flynn TOLD ME A STORY ABOUT AN EYELESS BEAST---it was something that even immortals were wary of---and how it would take the eyes of its victims, like little kiddos who wandered around at night without supervision and cast their gaze towards things they shouldn't. Initially I thought he was just trying to ward me off from going out at night on my own, stars or not, because I had.....have....the habit of doing that but he was so insistent about it and then...." And then Tigla-Dera---his last Tigla-Dera----and then there was Milosh, Milosh with his rhyme and Flynn. Flynn....

Without realizing it Kariom's now free hands had shifted as he spoke; his right hand moving to clutch at the star theater eternally hung around his neck and then, upon mentioning Flynn and the Tigle-Dera his hand opens and hovers near the scar marring his chest. Just for a moment or two, enough but not enough, never enough, and then both hands ball themselves into fists and press against the tops of his thighs.

".....The stinking thing should've STAYED AS NOTHING BUT A MERE STORY." He didn't even know how the Crown was supposed to stop something that could harm the tsourai in such a way----let alone if it was currently possessing someone. Would the Crown hurt Flynn? Would it trap the two of them together? Or.... "...I have to do something about it, and soon. It doesn't deserve to be anything more than a dumb tale for Flynn to spin for an over-imaginative boy." He needed to do something before it took Flynn away from him....or anyone else for that matter.

[malusrecord]

@magioffire

The sounds of scuttling are all around the small yet steadily advancing entourage; with the shifting of shadows moving from corner to corner, from GUTTERING LIGHT TO PITCH BLACK HOLE, rat and human alike, all reduced to something pitiable, something obscene, something forgotten. It was something he would rage against until his dying day---and HE WAS A MAN WHO'D DIED ONCE ALREADY---until....

Suddenly the man clothed in richly colored red and black clothes stops dead in his tracks; as he turns the mutilated side of his face towards one of the many pitiable, obscene, forgettable shadows lingering at the edges of The Lanes. The man's eyes are drawn towards the other like THE GAZE OF AN OWL SPYING A DYING MOUSE and then something deeper takes hold of him, something impossible to pass by or ignore. Now his gaze whips downwards at first alighting and then widening in rare surprise over the strange puddle spreading slowly across the cracked cobblestones. Violet. Violet. Violet. Not the red of blood or the black of something older but the violet of shimmer---

"....Go and report back to Sevika. I'll return shortly." Everything about him is a command; from tone to posture, and he's silently gratified when he hears the two bodyguards he'd been walking with turn and leave without a word lest they SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES THAT CAME WITH DISOBEDIENCE. Now the man walks towards the slowly spreading puddle with that same commanding air and even sharper focus driven by an eye of muddled green on one side and a living ember surrounded by a latticework of scars on the other, with both taking in every single detail. Eventually the man kneels before the huddled shape as his nose takes in the scent of blood. No doubt they were little more than a soon to be addled scavenger---this once brother of Zaun turned pitiable, turned obscene, turned forgettable---and yet it's for this reason that Silco lingers, his eyes ever watching as his mouth twists into half grimace, half smile.

Eventually slender fingers dip into a breast pocket and pull out a vial which he then holds up, eyes shifting slowly as the scene is painted in a faintly pulsing violet light. It---their blood, his shimmer---were similar; similar enough to MAKE SUCH A MAN STOP IN HIS TRACKS AND PERSONALLY INVESTIGATE, and then the other moves. It's little more than a twitch; a lowering of their eyelids in an attempt to deflect the faint light, but it was a sign of life all the same. How intriguing....

"Do you still live, boy?" Silco's words, while low, are punctuated by him moving the vial closer despite the inherent danger---because his status within the Lanes, to say nothing of the concoction currently held between his fingers---was reason enough to attack him outright and yet he continues unafraid. Now he can see more of them; the cringing, hunched frame, the blood smeared on their face and hands, the blood still dripping down only to pool between their legs with the flow only interrupted by the cracks in the street and the tips of Silco's shoes. It was him---it was Silco, his face mutilated and his eye burning---both before and after his first death at the hands of one of the people he'd trusted the most in the whole world and the thought brings teeth to bear as his smile widens.

"....DO YOU WISH TO LIVE OR DIE OUT HERE IN THE GUTTER? I know you can hear me so make your choice."

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My left eye started to decay at work because I didn’t eat enough strawberries. I screamed that I needed to get medical attention but everyone called me overdramatic.

[rouge-raccoon]

Reposting my sprunki stuff (which are mostly of Simon but ! He’s my favorite imma doodle the others soon XD )

[100frogsinatrenchcoat]

If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off.

Version without text below the cut

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price - The Bribe (1948)

[zerotwoooo]

Gooey, wrap your tongue around her legs and lift her up and slam her to the ground a couple times. Don't worry, human children are very durable

THUD!

"...Why did that work."

"Maybe that ice dragon was all she had?"

"....."

"Is something wrong-!"

"Shi-"

"YOU DIDN'T THINK IT'D BE THAT EASY. DID YOU?"

[off-the-rails-raccoon]

I love idea of ghostbur just looking terrifying.

Not like scary looking like cdrm but somewhat in the way uncanny valley is

YESSS!!! I've always been obsessed with the idea that ghostbur looks uncanny and odd in a way that people generally find hard to place but they know for sure something isn't right. I usually try to make this effect appear by playing up the whole ghost/corpse thing, and just basing his appearance off of how I think cWil would look as he was being buried. For example: The sword wound still looks fresh and new but there's flakes of dried blood around it, his skin is disturbingly pale and chalky, his eyes are slightly sunk in, and they seem to have dulled and appear glassy. Plus, I also like to think that being a ghost in the overworld has slightly warped his body, so minor differences have occurred that most people would miss but those close to him.

[bluu3berry]

Cw: Blood, Derealization

Maybe I shouldn't have looked back that day....

ANYWAYS THIS is a new OC I'm calling Ripped! They have literally no lore just like all my other liminal ocs, well except the eyeball one..

@anon-coke @borisboring @scramble-eg @the-second-season

[moonfromearth]

My Top 24(-ish) Screenshots of 2024!!

Thank you so much for the tag @salemssimblr!! I thought I wouldn't even find 24 screenshots to post but turns out I had more than I thought 😅

January

Me Before Looking Through Archive: I haven't been playing or posting that much so nothing really changed in 2024.

Me After Looking Through Archive: What do you mean Thunder was still a foal in January?? 😨

So this is about when I realized that I had done more during the year than I thought 😆 This tag was actually really good because I've felt bad about how little I did but looking back we actually made a lot of stuff and now I'm happy! 🥰

February

February was a slower month (and about when I started stalling on a big HR edit that didn't get posted until the end of the year 😆😅).

However, I did finished these sims to submit to @bunnithechubs and @butteredfrogs and I still think they're adorable.

March

I was so sad because I thought I didn't do anything with Corey this year but I forgot about the trading cards I can't believe that was just in 2024!! 🤩🤩

Credits to @squea and @butteredfrogs for the challenge and template it was a highlight of my year. So much fun to see everyone's cards and I learned some new editing tricks making them that helped me later in the year 😉

April

I made up the entire cast of the book I was writing that month (to procrastinate working on said book) and I'm so proud of how each of them turned out! Originally I had all of them in here but I ran out of image space so I had to narrow it down 😢

Anyway, the two on the left are the main characters and they look exactly like they do in my head which is so cool. Also the other character on the right turned out awesome. This year I downloaded a lot of wrinkle details to make better adult/elder sims and they look so good I'm so happy with them now and I've even gotten better at using them throughout the year than even here (sorry that was long lol).

May

Thank you again @havenroyals for putting together the simblr MET gala because it produced some of my best screenshots of the year!! 🤩 It was my first time experimenting with deco sims which was fun and I had an amazing time dressing my sims to theme. And giving them after party looks was the best.

Seeing everyone's sims attending the event was just such a good time and a great moment in the community this year 🥰

June

I almost forgot about the music tag that went around this month and these have to be some of my best of the year 😆 It's some of the most editing I've done and I love how they turned out!! These two especially were the best because they translated from concept to actuality so perfect and I can't wait to actually post the stories they're from 🥰🥰

(there are too many good screenshots from this month I didn't even get to the Edgewave submission!! 😭)

July

July I had several sim submissions I did, but this sim for @thebramblewood is my favorite! I finally got to use some of the historical cc that I download once in a while, plus her cane and personality were so clear and I love her (also the post she featured in was amazing thanks again bramblewood!!).

August - September

I moved during August and apparently forgot how to post because it took me forever to get back into it (and I'm still working on consistently posting but that's a problem for 2025 😆).

October

October is my favorite month for posts because of my beloved Slashed challenge by @folkling. I'm too much of a baby to even watch slasher films but these are some of my favorite characters and I have so many scenes with them that I will finally make one day!!

Unfortunately I couldn't fit all of their 2024 makeovers here, so just a few favorites. Carrie our final girl is iconic as always. Her design has been so consistent since I made her the first time with only a few upgrades in skin/blood details. Also Keaton the hunter got a major glow up from his first edition, which I liked the concept of but wasn't in love with the execution of. And Alicia is still one of my favorites she's so cool 😆

Also included is my experiment with my Rose gen sim from the Not So Berry Challenge in a move that re-inspired me to work on the challenge again (coming some time in 2025 😉). I literally went into cas just to put her in these two cc outfits and got totally invested in going back to the challenge 🤣

November

I finally decided to make myself finish the screenshot retakes I'd been putting off since January and I'm so happy with how they came out. So much had to get done for those scenes, from building the competition grounds from scratch, to retaking the screenshots three times, to editing this article about our favorite mysterious benefactor (who I can't wait to write more of)!!

Even though there's some things I'm still not totally happy with, I'm so glad I finally posted it, and proud of the skills I've learned over the year that made it possible (like the trading cards, which taught me new editing tricks that I used in this and some future websites and articles that you'll see next year 😉😉).

December

Aaaaand theres's nothing except this for December (oops 😅).

This reflection actually turned a bit into a gratitude post because I tagged so many people who used my sims or who's challenges I loved (sorry hopefully that wasn't annoying!!). Given how little I worked on my actually gameplay/story this year, it was the challenges made by other talented people here that really kept me involved with the community, and who made all of the creative screenshots I took this year possible. So, thank you to the simblr community for another amazing year (I'd list you all individually but I'd run out of space 😆).

Anyway, a final thank you to anyone who read this, which turned out way longer than it was supposed to be, and turned into a vent about how happy I am that I had more screenshots than I thought (seriously thought I'd only have two months filled in I posted so much more than I expected 😭).

Happy holidays to anyone celebrating and see you next year! ❤️

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Hi, do you still take x reader requests?? If you do, I was wanting a Phantom x reader/Y/N (she/they pronouns) and maybe Y/N got kidnapped by a rival being and he shows up rescue Y/N? Possessive Phantom is one of my favorite ideas, and he’s barely, just barely by a thread holding back from going full on eldritch being on the kidnappers + the rival. Maybe Phantom comforts Y/N afterwards too?

Call me Cos :D (for anon, I’ll be space anon if that isn’t taken)

Well, I do so love my body horror, so I'll admit that I kinda went further than that "just barely by a thread" part. . .

(This is based on a set of headcanons I posted a while ago; go here if you'd like to see them.)

Sorry this took so long, but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy it!

(Trigger Warnings: violence, body horror, eyes, teeth, mentions of snakes, mentions of insects, implied kidnapping, implied illegal business, talk of death/dying, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.) 

___

“I’m really not sure what you’re hoping to gain from this,” you announced, resting your cheek against one hand as you looked out at the world through the bars of the cage. 

Your captor—an admittedly stunning woman with a halo of crystals orbiting around the golden points of a crown protruding from her silvery hair—hummed thoughtfully.

“Not too much, if I’m being honest,” she answered with a dismissive shrug.

You quirked a brow, straightening your back a little. It was difficult to look her in the eyes; they glowed with undeniable power. The most piercing, dangerous, otherworldly shade of blue you’d ever seen. 

Your brain was begging you to focus on something else. Anything else, really. The room outside your cage was extravagant, boasting marble floors and looming pillars and filigree carvings on the walls. Everything was inlaid with blue gemstones in some way. Even your cage, nestled in the corner, was polished and decorated to perfection.  

But you still made a valiant attempt to keep eye-contact. You couldn’t just let her think you were some shrinking violet. 

“Then why did you bring me here in the first place? Why did you bother to just wait in my mirror until I finally got home?”

The Multiverse Monarch took a few steps closer to further scrutinize you. 

“Why does anyone do anything?” She responded. “Why do you mortals insist on making sacrifices, traveling to places you’ve never seen before, crossing bridges that don’t even exist yet?”

“Because we’ll eventually get paid for it,” you replied. “Or, we all hope to, at least.” 

Monarch blinked, a small snicker forcing its way through her teeth. She quickly shook her head, engaging in the rolling-your-eyes-with-your-whole-body gesture. 

“Because it’s there,” she stated in the most matter-of-fact tone you’d ever heard. “Because it’s just something to do. Something to temporarily keep your little lives from continuing to be mundane as fuck.”

You hummed at the explanation. There was definitely some truth to it, but you thrived on sarcasm. You couldn’t help that; it was a survival mechanism. “I feel like doing any kind of business with Phantom already pretty far from ‘mundane as fuck.’ I almost ended up being one of his contractors when we first met, and now look where I stand with him.”  

Monarch tilted her head to the side, folding her arms across her chest. “That kind of thing happens with a lot of dealmakers and potential clients. Much more frequently than you’d think. Don’t feel special.”

“I never said I felt special,” you argued. And now it was your turn to smirk, since it was so obvious that you and Monarch were now thinking the same thing. 

Phantom was many, many things. And one of them was, so simply, shady as they came. However, he could also be honest when the mood suited him. 

When the two of you had first met, he’d seen you as just another soul with enough potential and enough need of supernatural assistance to be considered for his collection. You, on the other hand, had long-since honed your instincts to sense ulterior motives. And at that point in time, you’d been, for lack of a better word, tired. 

Before that point, you’d been stepped on and laughed at and criticized so. Many. Damn. Times. 

You’d gotten tired of that. 

You’d gotten tired of trying so hard and putting out so much and only getting a few breadcrumbs here and there to show for it. 

You’d gotten so tired that it was miracle you’d even bothered to read Phantom’s contract in its entirety. 

And even with the potential consequences literally written down right in front of you. . .you’d been tired enough to not care.

So what if your soul became the property of an eldritch abomination?

At least you’d get some time to finally enjoy a few things before that. 

You’re not sure what Phantom saw in your tiredness. Hell, you’d flat-out asked him before, and he hadn’t been able to give you a clear answer himself. But that was just it: he’d seen something that he wanted to keep. Not just for his collection, but. . .

Well, Phantom had been quiet for most of that particular meeting, mainly relying on his elevator pitch for small talk as you read through the requirements and expectations. When you took hold on his feather quill, he went silent. He’d stayed silent as you hesitated. You’d felt his eyes boring holes through your skull. And just as you were about to sign your name on the dotted line, Phantom had yanked the contract away, insisting that he needed to make a few updates to it. 

The rest, as they say, is history.

“Plus,” you added. “I’ve heard all about the spats the two of you have gotten into. And when you combine those with the business angle of things. . .I mean, I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s still not mundane at all. Isn’t that enough?”

“You’ve only heard about those spats from his perspective,” Monarch snarked. Insanity glinted in her eyes. A buzzing, humming, keening music suddenly stabbed its way into your ears, and you finally had to look away from her, ducking your head and kneading at your temples. 

More footsteps clicked closer, and a cold hand was suddenly grasping your chin, slowly forcing you to look back up. 

Her eyes. . .they looked even less human than before. Now they were compound, seeming to shudder in their sockets as that frightening blue light glowed brighter and brighter. 

A pair of long, sinuous antennae now protruded from her forehead, covered in a network of crystalline veins. They reached down to lightly tap against your scalp, making that unearthly music reverberate in your skull. 

“And enough is ภєשєг єภ๏ยﻮђ,” she concluded, allowing you to catch a glimpse of something shuffling about between the rows of her teeth. “ภєשєг ђคร ๒єєภ, ภєשєг ฬเɭɭ ๒є.”

“MONARCH!” A familiar voice suddenly shouted from somewhere outside of the throne room. . .or, it had to be outside the throne room, at least. But then, that voice shouldn’t have been echoing and bouncing around the corners with such violence. “I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!”

Not if it was a human’s voice, that is. 

And that’s why you immediately recognized it. You’d been hearing it almost every day for a good couple years now, after all.

You’d been waiting to hear it today.

“I know you know,” Monarch called back, only slightly raising her own tone as a smirk played at her lips. She released her grip on your chin, strolling away from your cage to settle down onto her throne. “That’s what makes this kind of stuff so fun.”

What sounded like a Category 5 earthquake slammed against the towering side-by-side doors that waited across the room. The thunderous sound was followed by a cacophony of screeching, like razor-sharp claws being dragged across ornate wood and stone.

“Well, if we’re going with that logic,” Phantom seethed from wherever he was, “then you also know that if you don’t bring [Y/N] out here right now, I swear I’ll 𐍂𐍊Ƥ 𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐌴𐌰ζ𐌷 𐍈𐍆 𐌸𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐐎𐍊𐍀𐌾Ⲋ 𐍈𐍀𐌴-𐌱𐌸-𐍈𐍀𐌴!"

Phantom’s pitch seemed to warp like metal, now twisting and rattling in the air. It gave the impression of a hissing, growling, churning well; like he was speaking through multiple people—or multiple monsters, really—at once.

“And I’ll just grow replacements for them,” Monarch replied, examining her fingernails, looking extremely cool and collected someone who was facing promises of dismemberment. “If you’re gonna threaten me, then maybe aim for something that’ll be more difficult to recover.” 

Another shockwave pounded against the doors from the other side. The entire room shook; you could feel the floor vibrating through your shoes for a long moment. 

Phantom’s voice hummed, shifting from ferocious anger to vicious mockery in a heartbeat. “Like those clones of yours?”

You craned your neck to glance at Monarch through the cage’s bars. You had to bite down a chuckle at the way she stiffened; if there was one thing you and Phantom had bonded over, it was the art of schadenfreude. 

“My clones are scattered across the multiverse,” Monarch contended. “It would take you at least six-thousand-nine-hundred years for you to find all of them!”

She let out an icy snicker that made your spine want to crawl its way out of your back and go somewhere a little more quiet. “ץ๏ย’гє คɭгєค๔ץ ђคɭŦ-รєภเɭє; รђ๏ยɭ๔ภ’Շ ๒є Շ๏๏ ɭ๏ภﻮ ๒єŦ๏гє ץ๏ย’гє คɭɭ Շђє ฬคץ Շђєгє.” 

“Oh, now you’re in for it,” you murmured. Though the speculation was mainly to yourself, you had no doubts that your captor could hear you.

An animalistic roar echoed through the walls, and the doors shook in their frame yet again. This time, the boom was accentuated by the undeniable call of something shattering. 

“𐍊 ꡕ𐌰𐌸 𐌱𐌴 𐐎𐌴ࠋࠋ-𐍈ⱱ𐌴𐍂 𐌰 𐨠𐌷𐍈𐍁Ⲋ𐌰𐍀Ɗ, 𐌱𐍁𐨠 𐍊 𐌰ꡕ 𐍀𐍈𐨠 Ⲋ𐌴𐍀𐍊ࠋ𐌴!”

The latest tremor lingered, not just fading away like the last two strikes. You subconsciously held onto the bars in a white-knuckled grip.

Phantom knew you were here; he wouldn’t make Monarch’s entire palace collapse if it meant the risk of you getting crushed in the rubble. Despite your trust in him, your instincts were on still fire now, screaming that the floor was absolutely going to cave in beneath you at any second.

Phantom spoke up again, dripping with surreal danger. “What about all the souls you’ve gathered? What if I set my sights on those, Moth? They aren’t exactly easy to replace. We both now that better than anyone.”

Monarch stood on her throne, her movement too fluid and quick to be natural. The entire lower-half of her face seemed to have eroded away. Smooth, human-esquse flesh had been replaced by the mandibles you’d seen earlier. They shuddered and snapped, making an odd, almost musical chittering noise.

And right above them. . .her eyes. . .

Her eyes had grown disturbingly wide, rolling around in her head as each of the hexagonal units adorning either of them reflected everything around her. You could see yourself in the corner of them. She was still watching you as much as she was watching Phantom through the doors. 

Her antennae now almost resembled crooked swords, twitching so violently that it was a wonder how her crown stayed in place. 

The lights of the room flickered, growing dark and insidious. The temperature automatically dropped through several degrees; goosebumps prickled over every square-inch of your skin. Your senses were so shocked by the change that you almost didn’t notice the awful chorus of stretching and tearing that coiled through the room. 

By the time you finally looked back at Monarch, you choked on air. 

Her fair skin and silvery locks had just finished practically ripping themselves apart to make way for. . .not bones, perse. An exoskeleton: a shining, jagged, horrific carapace that looked like it was molded from liquefied diamonds. 

The woman was gone.

An enormous insectoid monster stood in her place. 

It was like nothing you’d ever seen before (which was saying something, since you’d seen quite a lot thanks to your relationship with Phantom). 

As though you were looking at the impossible result of a mythical threesome between a primordial praying mantis, spider, and butterfly.  

Far, far too many long, spindly, dagger-like legs and clutching, serrated claws to count. 

At the center of them all was a glowing abdomen that trembled with every breath Monarch took. It ended in a glittering stinger that would make even the world’s sharpest harpoon look like a toothpick. 

Her mandibles were now large enough to easily decapitate you with one bite. Each time they moved, an otherworldly chittering rhythm leaked out.

Four billowing wings as vast and blue as a trench in the ocean, covered in organized lines of piercing eye-spots.

No. . .those weren’t spots. 

Honest-to-fucking-goodness eyes.

And they were still keeping some focus on you. 

Monarch snarled. Against all odds, her voice remained soft. When it mixed with that chittering, however, the sound felt like needles. “ץ๏ย ๔๏ภ'Շ ђคשє Շђє ภєгשє.”

And with that, the doors finally buckled, flying off their hinges to embed themselves in the walls. 

A haze of heat and terrifying energy swept into the room, followed an instant later by another abomination. 

Despite the anxiety prying at your ribs, you still managed to smile. You even felt butterflies in your stomach.

Phantom was here. He’d come to take you back home.

At first, he seemed to be a sentient, slow-moving tornado of smoke. With your personal experience, you knew that he was simply wearing that fog sort of like a cloak. 

As more and more of his true form rippled into the throne room, as all the smoke sliced around him, you could easily see the shapes of bones that all fit together to form a colossal serpentine skeleton. 

A vast array of organs writhed further inside the seemingly endless ribcage, glowing similarly to the embers at the bottom of a firepit. 

That glow had absolutely nothing on Phantom’s eyes, however. 

Then again, you weren’t sure if you could really call them eyes. 

The sockets in his triangle-shaped head emitted spiraling plumes of fire. Beneath them, a maw filled to the brim with serrated fangs; the largest ones dripped with luminescent venom that sizzled as it hit the marble floors. A long, forked black tongue flicked in and out between all those teeth like a party favor. 

So, in short: the richest, purest form of nightmare fuel for anyone with ophidiophobia. . .well, almost. Two arms (only two at the moment. You knew more could be summoned and then retracted at a second’s notice) jutted out from his sides, each ending in a clutch of five talons.

And there was something peculiar pinched between two of those talons. 

“𐨠𐍂𐌸 ꡕ𐌴,” Phantom hissed as he raised his arm to show it off. 

It was spherical in shape, almost looking like one of those pretty glass marbles that always seemed to be in antique stores for whatever reason. 

But you knew better. 

The longer you started at it, the more it seemed to bounce—no, to pulse in the air. It gleamed with a soft, warm, colorful light. A living light. 

That was someone’s soul. 

You’d seen Phantom handling souls before, but those all had been his (technically) legal property, having been signed over to him by his clients. 

Judging by the way Monarch screamed as Phantom tossed it for his other talons to catch, this one had to be part of her collection. 

“𐍊𐨠'Ⲋ 𐍂𐌴𐌰ࠋࠋ𐌸 Ⲋ𐍊ꡕƤࠋ𐌴, ꡕ𐍈𐨠𐌷. . .” Phantom put a little more pressure on the soul in his grasp. It responded via turning a darker shade, almost partially deflating like a smoker’s lung. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ ꡕ𐌴, 𐌰𐍀Ɗ 𐍊 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ 𐌸𐍈𐍁.”

Monarch bristled. For a brief, horrible moment, you worried that she would reach over and clamp the cage to crush it around you like a soda can. 

You’d heard stories of her power. As far as you knew, she was one of few beings strong enough to have a stalemate with Phantom. 

The two of them stared at one another for what felt like hours. 

“คภ๔ ץ๏ย คɭฬคץร รคץ ՇђคՇ ๏Շђєг קє๏קɭє ςคภ'Շ Շคкє ן๏кєร,” Monarch accused, clicking her mandibles. She then let out an acidic sigh. “Ŧเภє. ﻮเשє ՇђคՇ ๏ภє ๒คςк Շ๏ ๓є, คภ๔ ץ๏ย ςคภ ђคשє ץ๏ยгร.”

“𐍀𐍈,” Phantom snapped. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐌾𐍊ⱱ𐌴 𐨠𐌷𐌴ꡕ 𐌱𐌰ζ𐌺 𐍆𐍊𐍂Ⲋ𐨠.”

Monarch hissed, leaning back, tensing up.

“How about you both move at the same time?” You called out, having finally reclaimed your voice. 

Both of the crimes against nature swiveled their heads in your direction. One part of you instinctually wanted to curl into a ball. The other part stood firm. 

No matter how terrifying Phantom was, no matter how much of a psychological hurdle it always was for you to see him in his true form like this. . .you still knew that he cared about you. He just wanted to keep you safe, to have you stay by his side. Once you were with him again, everything would be fine. 

He and Monarch side-eyed each other. 

One of Monarch’s legs reached over, clutching at the door to the cage. Simultaneously, Phantom pushed his talons, the soul still in his grasp, toward his rival. 

Then, less than a second later, they moved in tandem. 

As Phantom passed that unfortunate soul back to its owner, there was suddenly a gaping hole in the middle of the bars. You sprinted out and across the throne room, just barely managing to not trip over that long blue carpet. 

Phantom met you halfway, one clutch of talons hovering behind you, gently pushing you to stand closer to him. He lowered his skull, angling it to keep his fangs away as you leaned against him, stretching your arms in an awkward attempt to hug him.

“Շђєгє, รєє? ՇђคՇ ฬครภ'Շ ร๏ ђคг๔,” Monarch piped back up. You didn’t look at her, but you could guess at the snide grin slowly-but-surely spreading over her mandibles. Was this part of the adrenaline rush, or. . .whatever she’d been after? “คɭฬคץร ฬเՇђ Շђє ๔гค๓คՇเςร.” 

“𐌸𐍈𐍁'𐍂𐌴 𐍈𐍀𐌴 𐨠𐍈 𐍆𐍁ζ𐌺𐍊𐍀𐌾  𐨠𐌰ࠋ𐌺,” Phantom growled, holding you closer. You could see his horrific excuse for a heart thrashing and shifting through various colors unlike any you’d ever seen on Earth. “𐍊'ꡕ 𐌾𐍈𐍀𐍀𐌰 𐍂𐌴ꡕ𐌴ꡕ𐌱𐌴𐍂 𐨠𐌷𐍊Ⲋ 𐐎𐌷𐌴𐍀 𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐍀𐌴𑀌𐨠 ꡕ𐌴𐌴𐨠𐍊𐍀𐌾 ζ𐍈ꡕ𐌴Ⲋ 𐌰𐍂𐍈𐍁𐍀Ɗ. ʝ𐍁Ⲋ𐨠  𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌺 𐌰𐌱𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐨠𐌷𐌰𐨠."

[aphidclan-clangen]

FINALLY I CAN TLAK ABOUT MY DREAM

Okay so. it was before the recent pages, back when Gravel just brought Firebeetle back to the camp. except Firebeetle looked very weird, like pure white with only the light blue markings and tail having colors, but they were all neon and wrong colors. and where was blood, there was static and it kept changing like in real time. then you uploaded next pages, but those were just neon white glitched Firebeetle in like pure white background, glitching the hell out, bleeding static that was in fact moving/leaking despite it not being a gif and mutating? like each panel had him look off in different ways, like more eyes, eyes in wrong places, more limbs, bizarre limbs. and i think the pov was me looking at it throught my phone, and it was making my head hurt, it was like making static and buzzing in real life. and then you had to delete it and posted an announcement that someone apparently died?? due to radiation poisoning??? from looking at the new pages????? my dream head hurt so bad that i woke up soon after.

That is the sickest dream I’ve ever heard. First of all it’s an honor to have made an impact on people enough to invade their dreams, please do tell me if you ever have Aphidclan dreams again, but also second of all- i. I would do that, I would so totally do that, like as a horror artist lololol. If Aphidclan were more of a horror genre webcomic, that’s pretty damn similar to what I would literally do, that sounds like it’d be SO cool lol. Obviously no one would die from it if it were real, but I am loving this creepypasta-style, sorta analog horror, Lavender Town-esque image in my head

That’s cool as hell man, I love that

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I tried on some bright green contact lenses that unfortunately slipped into the back of my eye socket.

[landfilloftrash]

*incomprehensible* —hohohoho! Silly meee~ Let me fix this up and leave you be~ See you soon, mon capitaine~

[synthstruck]

Goretober prompt list; Days 1 and 2

Yes I’m late to this and I’m rushing my prompt drawings/making them sketches or very quick paintings until I catch up don’t even worry about it

Prompt 1: Mouth

Prompt 2: Eyes (EYESTRAIN + EYE CLUSTER TW)

Also here’s the prompt list I’m using;