#gore ment ;;

[neopronouns]

flag id: a flag with 11 stripes. the second and tenth stripes arey wavy while the rest are straight. the third and ninth stripes are largest, the first and eleventh much smaller, the fourth, fifth, seventh, and eighth smaller than those, the second and tenth smaller than those, and the sixth smallest. they are dark silver, silver, light silver, dull red, dark red, very dark red, dark red, dull red, light silver, silver, and dark silver. end id. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

ghosture: a gorture gender related to ghosts that still have the bloody, gory wounds they died from

[pt: ghosture: a gorture gender related to ghosts that still have the bloody, gory wounds they died from. end pt]

divider id: a divider made up of shades of cream with a simple stylized wing at its left and right edges, the words ‘Team Heroes’ in the center, and thin lines between the stars and words. end id.

@coinfight revenge on @losermutts!

points: 6 (5 base, +1 for revenge chain)

i used the gorture format and a few colors from the flag for blood/gore and shades of grey/silver for ghosts. the term is 'ghost' + 'ture' from 'gorture'!

tags: @radiomogai, @liom-archive, @macchiane, @genderstarbucks, @sugar-and-vice-mogai

tags cont: @prettypinknarc, @skrimbliest, @gender-mailman

dni link | coinfight divider credit

[lavendorii]

I'm going to break all of my ribs and pull out my heart and wave it around at all of my loved ones to show them that I love them. or I will smile in their direction... not sure which yet

[glambots]

Worst part of working at Fazbear Ent.? Definitely the customer service parts.

Second worst part? Having to clean up after various mysterious "workplace accidents."

[buntress]

[All IDs in alt text]

⚰️ Invicorpse ⚰️

[PT: Invicorpse]

An Inviane gender that can only be described by the following image.

[PT: An Inviane [Link] gender that can only be described by the following image. End PT]

Possible Pronouns + Titles under the cut

If you enjoy what I create, consider leaving a tip on Ko-Fi (link)! /nf

Tagging: @radiomogai @inviane-archive @gender-mailman (just think you'll like it!)

Possible Pronouns:

[REDACTED]/[REDACTED]s

Blood/Bloods

Cor/Corpse

Dae/Death

Flay/Flesh

Gore/Gores

Grave/Graves

Grim/Grims

Me/Meat

Rot/Rots

🥩/🥩s

🍖/🍖s

🫀/🫀s

🩸/🩸s

🦴/🦴s

[PT: [REDACTED]/[REDACTED]s, Blood/Bloods, Cor/Corpse, Dae/Death, Flay/Flesh, Gore/Gores, Grave/Graves, Grim/Grims, Me/Meat, Rot/Rots, 🥩/🥩s, 🍖/🍖s, 🫀/🫀s, 🩸/🩸s, 🦴/🦴s]

Possible Titles:

The Flesh

One* Who Consumes

The Creature

Ze* Who Hungers

The Starving Corpse

[PT: The Flesh, One* Who Consumes, The Creature, Ze* Who Hungers, The Starving Corpse]

*Replace this with whatever pronouns is comfiest!

[neopornouns]

flag id: a flag with 7 stripes, which are black, near-black, dark red-pink, red-pink, medium dark red, dark red, and very dark red. end id.

banner id: a 1550x200 dark pink-red banner with the words ‘minors dni + please read the rest of my dni before interacting. those on my dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. end id.

kinklustgoric: a gender related to blood on one's body, lustfulness, dark kinks, and gore

[pt: kinklustgoric: a gender related to blood on one's body, lustfulness, dark kinks, and gore. end pt]

for anon! the top two stripes represent kinks, the next two lustfulness, and the bottom three blood and gore. the term is 'kink', 'lust', 'gor' from 'gore', + 'ic'!

tags: @mogaigonewild | dni link

[the-cookie-jar-system]

Queenie from Guro Idol Company fanfic, very guro oriented but I thought Queenie was cute, @guroidolco-blog, if it’s ever active again.

[gender-mailman]

Gorturefluid!

A gender that is both Gorture and fluid, experiencing both Gorture and fluid genders in some way, such as being fluid between Gorture genders or having Gorture and fluid gender(s) at the same time.

Coined by me. Requested by no one. Tagging @hypnosiacon

[victorian-vampir]

Hey, I feel a really really strong need to remind people.

DO NOT REFERENCE REAL GORE FOR YOUR GORE ART.

It is disrespectful and unethical. Most photos of gore are not ethically obtained or lack consent from parties involved. You want ethical gore ref? Horror. Look at slasher films. Look at the Saw franchise.

Most people do not know what the inside of a person looks like accurately. You do not need to be 100% anatomically accurate for something most people have never seen before.

Again.

Real gore is not an ethical reference. Use movies. Those are human beings who went through horrible things. Stop looking at their mutilation for your gore art.

[nomorelikethat]

short story im working on Hi

While the sedan strikes the deer, dawn rips through the night.

In the driver seat is Mr. Baker, with one hand on the wheel. In the back, her green eyes zeroed into long swaths of darkness, is Camila Baker: his only daughter and, to his chagrin, his only child. The passenger seat is empty. Camila likes it better that way; the space between her father and herself allowing her to breathe. She used to feel ashamed of sitting in the back. It made her feel childish, and she fought to be allowed in the front seat. When she got there, Mr. Baker’s puny eyes zeroed in on her every action. Camila, don’t recline so far back; Camila, don’t chew gum so loudly; Don’t change the radio you know I love that song; Camila, do you ever shut up? And so, she returned to the backseat. It’s where he wants her. It’s where she’s safe.

In the moments before the accident (though knowing her father, Camila isn’t sure if that’s the right word, isn’t sure if he maybe saw the deer in his periphery and kept driving), Mr. Baker is talking to himself. He’s ranting about something, but Camila isn’t sure what exactly something is. Mr. Baker starts off by talking about the grades he got when he was in high school and God, Camila, really? Two B minuses? Do you even try?, but then at one point switches to how all the students at Ivies are far too radical, so maybe it’s a blessing that you’re so… Mr. Baker trails off, but Camila is sure that the next thing he’d say is either stupid, dumb, or useless. 

As Mr. Baker goes silent, he turns around to stare at Camila. He expects to see her eyes filled with tears, maybe her lips moving in the shape of the words, why are you so cruel— but Camila has not cried over her father in years, hasn’t cried in front of him in years, either. All he sees is the back of her head. 

It is then that the bumper makes contact with the hump between the deer’s torso and legs, the tawny color of the creature unchanged for a few seconds before its coat is drenched in crimson.

They can hear the accident before they see it; maybe even before they feel the front of the car crumple like an empty beer can littered onto grass, the remnants of some beautiful, nearly mythical high school party; the kind Camila has never gone to. The deer screeches, high pitched and urgent, almost sounding like the bleat of an ewe whose lambs wandered too far, or the wail of a spoiled newborn begging for something more than milk: something that its parents cannot give it or put words to. It’s the sound of something ending.

Camila’s airbag doesn’t go off. She jerks forward into the window and can almost smell the capillaries beneath her pimply forehead breaking, leaking. Mr. Baker’s, however, does; which might unleash some jealous animal from Camila’s core, some concern over what is fair and what is not, but only if she could focus on something besides the pounding noise of blood sloshing around her skull. Mr. Baker starts to hack, the cushion hitting him in the sternum. Maybe if the deer isn’t shrieking, the two could hear the crack of his breastbone splintering.

Camila and her father are silent, save for the wheezing from Mr. Bakers throat. He bats away the airbag, watching it slowly deflate. His lungs are still reeling. Camila pulls herself away from the window and her forehead sticks to the glass like thighs on sweltering afternoons, making a small suctioning noise as they part. She fumbles with the door handle for a moment, but it swings open. She stumbles out, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

The car’s headlights are the only thing illuminating the gravelly path stretching out before them. Mr. Baker always insists on driving through backroads. Traffic brings out the worst in me, he says, but he still simmers in anger on empty roads. Camila doesn’t mind; while highways make her father furious, they make her despondent. Wide, never-ending roads filled with beaming headlights leave her yearning for a clear view of the stars.

Camila keeps her distance from the deer. Sometime between when they struck the creature and when she exited the car, it toppled over, causing even more damage for the hood. Luckily for Mr. Baker, the brunt of its weight mostly fell on the passenger’s side. For a second, Camila is grateful for her father’s nitpicking: it saved her life. 

When Mr. Baker exits the car, he staggers towards the creature, his left leg heavy. 

[neopronouns]

flag id: a flag with 7 stripes, which are dark purple, medium dark faded green, faded green-yellow, dull light yellow, red-pink, red, and dark faded red. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

oddexperitgirl/oddexperitwoman: a gender in which one is a girl/woman and that is related to being nonhuman/nonhumanity, weird things, experimental and avant-garde music, blood and gore, being weird/an oddball, experimental/weird art, unreality, and it/its pronouns

[pt: oddexperitgirl/oddexperitwoman: a gender in which one is a girl/woman and that is related to being nonhuman/nonhumanity, weird things, experimental and avant-garde music, blood and gore, being weird/an oddball, experimental/weird art, unreality, and it/its pronouns. end pt]

for anon! the top stripe represents it/its pronouns; the first and second represent nonhumanity; the top four represent weird things, experimental art/music, being weird, and unreality; the fifth represents being a girl/woman; and the bottom two represent blood and gore. the term is 'odd', 'experi' from 'experimental', 'it', + 'girl'/'woman'!

tags: @radiomogai, @liom-archive, @fem-mogai, @narcette, @genderstarbucks, @kiruliom, @sugar-and-vice-mogai | dni link

[blue-phoria]

Shamura, browsing AO3: Yuck… All those disgusting people, I would never make stories like that!!! Kallamar: I found a stash of dead dove stories under your bed. Leshy: I found a stash of actual dead doves in your fridge. Shamura: …those were confiscated.

[formalmess]

i'm curious now. what is the darkest fic you have written

hmm.... well, only issue there is that i've compiled a list of 22+ fics i've written that could compete for the title, so i can't tell you one for certain. and of course, that answer might change depending on what element of darkness/horror scares you the most.

(INCOMING: long musings and thoughts abt darkness and horror in fics below, plus references and direct dialogue from GRAPHIC, unhappy, angsty stories. if reading about mario characters in distress makes you sad, please don't read. please, oh please, proceed with caution if you keep reading...)

i think something about horror that is so interesting is how differently some people approach it.

does gore squick you out the most? how about manipulation? psychological torment? jumpscares? horrifying implications? betrayal? alien lifeforms? body horror? there are so many facets to horror, and something one person might find fascinating, another might find appalling, and vice versa.

it's also what i think makes horror so compelling to explore in a fictional setting: emphasizing our inherent human fears into something fantastical and horrific, something to make us squirm in our seats.

for example, in everyday life, we might feel betrayed if a friend talks behind our back, but what happens if we amplify those feelings tenfold? as such, i've written a sum of stories that primarily center around manipulation, psychological torment, and the aftermath of betrayal. for me, i've always found those stories the scariest, whether in my writing or in popular media.

"How could you let this happen?" Luigi's words came first upon the realization, screaming as though someone else were in control of his voice. Hot tears streamed down his face, the anguished man wailing and sobbing, feeling nothing but the overwhelming need to hurt someone: to somehow find a way to make someone pay and avenge the mistake that had been made. "ANSWER ME!" --2020

You tried to block it all out. It would be over soon, it would be over soon, so please, please stop screaming, please, please, please, you didn’t want to do this-! --2020

there's also horrifying implications. i love to mess around with universes and worlds where things are uncanny, or plain wrong. perhaps a rift in the universe has left everything out of sorts?

or, more specifically, someone has been trying to create clones of you after murdering you in an act of desperate passion, but they keep falling and all of the clones resent their misguided creator... hahaaa..

He wanted to make another right then and there, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He wanted to tear his hands off and banish his dreaded ability of creation. He wished he couldn’t do this anymore. He sat there, alone, drowning in guilt as he sobbed loudly. Any bastardized copy wouldn’t suffice, no matter what he tried.

He jumped a bit, nearly slipping on the mystery residue at his feet. As soon as his vision got adjusted with the darkness, he fought the urge to scream in terror. If it weren’t for the fact that the other person across from him were upside down, and that their jaw was lopsided from their face, he would have sworn he was looking into a mirror. He was gazing right into a pair of dead, soulless eyes. And they were his own. --2020 [same fic as above]

manipulation? torment? why not.

"Now… you don't want your dearest brother to get hurt, now do you? You wouldn't do anything at all to jeopardize his safety." A smile. "Isn't that right, Mario?" --2021

and, based on people's impressions to FYE, at least, angst always lends itself well to horror, doesn't it? regret? grief? people being scared and sad together? it's a most deadly combination.

He damned the jester as he sat alone in the claustrophobic space with only Peasley’s rotting corpse as his company, wishing for death as the stench of spoiling fibrous flesh filled his nose. He sniffled, beginning to sob, fidgeting ever so slightly as he thought about how if he had only been stronger, only been quicker, this could have been different. They could have escaped the clutch of the void's songbird call. And he could have saved his beloved husband's life. --2021

and of course... gore. gore is pretty self-explanatory.

With a final sickening crunch and tear, the prince's neck was sliced clean off his shoulders, rolling away from the rest of his body with an unceremonious thud. --2018

With his caught in between the descending platform and the ground, there was no stopping what came next. With a sickening crunch, it pressed down, hard. It pulverized his arm beyond dust: gore and blood pooling from the spot as he screamed in anguish. Shock made him go numb. His vision was hazy. --2020

'starland', which is on my ao3, was actually going to be far more gorey than fye. but, alas, i lost the muse for that one. maybe someday, it will be continued...

and there's been many other generally dark stories as well. to provide just an inkling of context, i've written many before and after fye about dimentio being a general awful person to luigi and others, killing and torture abound. i've written a lot about super dimentio too! they're a really fun fusion to analyze. side fun fact: if you've read 'love like you' on my ao3, i have written a 'bad end' version of that... for full angst potential, you know.

i've also written plenty other "horror movie" versions of the mario franchise too. if you see fye as the "saw" of the mario universe, then i have others for various different franchises. i also have one piranha plant gijinka i made in 2018 who is an actual menace to society. whatever page he graces, he creates a mind-bending squickfest full of viscera. i know i have made various people sick with the fics i feature him in.

but to answer your question, my personal pick for my darkest fic is one i have is called 'tender', written in late 2021 — which was a working title as some point, but now it has stuck. while not very gorey, it is very heavy on the psychological torture and torment that scares me (personally) the most. in addition, it is one i will always only keep between me and my innermost circle of trusted comrades. the reason why? well, i actually haven't really written a darkfic since then, because i thought after finishing, "i've done it. i've written the darkest fic known to man" and thought there was no way i could possibly outdo myself. and since then, i have not been able to! makes my tummy twist just thinking about it. true horror there, that one.

context for these dialogue pieces? context for the fics i've alluded to? no....... you will simply have to draw your own conclusions... mwahahahah!!!!!!

or come and chat with me, haha! i'm always happy to talk about horror, but i like to do it outside of posting publicly since i know this is certainly not everyone's cup of tea.

well, i think that's a sufficient answer. here's to even more dark fics in the future!

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

AMoW March Trope-A-Thon Day 6 - Team Dynamics (Rescue)

Hehehehe Bastian and Mariano love each other and god help you if you get between them

TWs: brief references to dehumanization, blood, guns

Whoever thought that kidnapping him was a good idea was probably going to get fired if they survived this, Bastian thought. They had guns, yeah, and knives and other weapons, and they were keeping him locked up with so much steel that he'd have to shatter himself to shift at all. Technically, they were doing everything right if they wanted to try harvesting his parts for the black market.

They had not, evidently, taken his food service manager of a roommate into account. They had not done quite enough research into Bastian to realize who he was dating. They had not realized that Mariano Cross was Mariano Ortiz, of whistle-blowing, war-criming infamy.

They were going to learn who Mariano Cross was.

Bastian heard the screams above him, silver eyes idly tracing the path that Mariano was cutting through the building. He was down a few floors in some dingy little cell-slash-closet. Mariano knew exactly where he was, and had been sprinting in a direct line to the nearest staircase that would take him to his dragon since he arrived and was discovered.

A few pops sounded off above. Another scream. Really, Bastian was just astounded about the mileage that Mariano got out of one ten-inch hunting knife. Sure, it was meant to be used as a focus, but he'd felt the heat that radiated off of it when Mariano casted.

He wondered how Mariano fit this sort of thing into his head. Of course, he was definitely being shot at up there, and they'd definitely attempted to tase or beat Mariano throughout the rescue, and yeah Bastian had been kidnapped and sort-of tortured for black market purposes, but...was he okay doing this? Was he going to wake up and be still and silent some night that week and not come to Bastian's room?

Maybe it was the fact that it was a rescue that made it slot into place for him. Bastian had a feeling that even if it hadn't been nice, Mariano probably had asked to get him back. He was funny like that.

More pops, more screams, both closer this time. Just down the hall. If he looked at the crack between the door and carpet, he could see the brilliant light moving as Mariano swung his knife and launched blasts of magic.

When it all fell silent and a shadow cut through the light that crept in, Bastian relaxed. Just past this steel door was his mage. The tip of a glowing knife forced its way between the door and door frame, lighting up the closet-cell like the midday sun was streaming in. Slowly, methodically, Mariano brought the blade down, melting through the latch that kept the door closed.

Finally, when it swung open, a gore-splattered Mariano fell to his knees in front of Bastian. Relief swept over his usually-flat expression, and warm, dark hands cupped Bastian's face. Behind the metal muzzle that kept his jaws locked together, Bastian smiled.

"Bastian, I'll have you out of there in just a moment. We shouldn't be bothered." He said, sliding one gloved hand under the metal that bound Bastian's hands together. Carefully, as though he were slicing into a delicate dessert, Mariano cut through the chains towards his own fingers.

Bastian watched him pull his hand away unscathed, shaking it to dissipate the heat before repeating the process on the next set of restraints. Over and over, like he could do it in his sleep, he guarded Bastian's skin from the heated blade and metal. How many times had he done this without the casting gloves that Bastian had insisted on buying? How many of those little burn scars layered onto his fingers were from doing this very maneuver?

The feeling of the muzzle being fully sliced away brought Bastian out of his thoughts. "Can you stand?" Mariano asked, lifting it away from Bastian's face. "Did they hurt you?" He offered Bastian a hand up, as though he wouldn't just be tugged to the ground.

"Nah." Bastian said, taking Mariano's hand and bracing himself against the wall with the other. "They didn't have a chance to do anything but argue."

"Good, good." Mariano said, sliding his hands over Bastian's shoulders and down his arms. It was like he couldn't quite believe that Bastian had hardly been touched. Carefully, like he might break his dragon if he was too rough, Mariano stood on his tip-toes and pressed a delicate kiss to Bastian's lips. "Come, let's, let's get out of here. I don't want to know if they had a chance to call any friends. My shoulder is going to be sore enough tomorrow as-is."

[neopornouns]

flag id: a flag with 11 stripes. the second and tenth stripes arey wavy while the rest are straight. the third and ninth stripes are largest, the first and eleventh much smaller, the fourth, fifth, seventh, and eighth smaller than those, the second and tenth smaller than those, and the sixth smallest. they are near-black, very dark pinkish-red, extremely dark silver, dark pinkish-red, medium dark pinkish-red, bright pinkish-red, medium dark pinkish-red, dark pinkish-red, extremely dark silver, very dark pinkish-red, and near-black. end id.

banner id: a 1550x200 dark pink-red banner with the words ‘minors dni + please read the rest of my dni before interacting. those on my dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. end id.

gorotic: an erotic gorture gender

[pt: gorotic: an erotic gorture gender. end pt]

for anon! flag uses the gorture flag's format and colors i associate with eroticism, and the term is 'gor' from 'gorture' + 'rotic ' from 'erotic'!

tags: @mogaigonewild, @lewdmail-gender | dni link

[oceanic-recollection]

ok so EA was trying to detach aer puppet and ended up kinda rushing. While doing that, hae messed up and ended up pulling the puppet off the arm, which unfortunately is what all the puppets organs were attached to. And so most of the puppet came off but the organs. Did not

<TSF> ...

<TSF> i think

<TSF> im gonna be sick

[you--cant--run]

X:\Users\@galaxofmuses\STARTERCALL.txt

Skyler has found himself within yet another Red Ring Zone. This one... seems pretty standard, from what he's likely encountered. Shoddy blood and miscellaneous bits of carcass litter what remains of Green Hill, the once beautiful, clear water has all run stark red like blood, etcetera. You get the drill.

But there's something odd, still. That being: how light he feels... like he's in a dream. But this isn't one, right? He must know by now it's more like a nightmare come true.

Furthermore, he isn't there long before he can just... sense something shift in the air around him; like a shiver up his spine.

Something is behind him.

[HELLO, S0NIC THE HEDGEHOG.] A voice practically screams into his ear, aiming to get him to jump. It giggles regardless of how he reacts, and floats back a ways above him, trembling fists rising to its cheeks in excitement, grin adorning them growing wider, and wider, tearing the flesh. It rests there.

[HAHA! OH MAN, I THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER SHOW UP. WEREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE THE FASTEST TH1NG ALIVE...?] It manages to taunt, despite actually being a little anxious. This is its hero. It's totally fangirling out right now.