#i started the drawing w the gore and went ‘yeah this is gonna be a baller piece i already know’ and i was right

[mug-of-shark]

read uh. One and a Half Benreys by LordTraco on ao3 (also here: hi @lordtraco :3) and immediately became insane over the half benrey <3

hella gore so he’s under a readmore

made a whole ass illustration out of this cuz i became. so completely motivated

shoutout for gettin me out of artblock

[burntmcnuggies]

A Hopeless Fight

Yander Levi x Reader

Warning: this story contains blood, gore, and suggestive themes such as kidnapping, murder, non-consensual touching, forced sex, and drug usage. You guys have been warned! Now all of you who wanna read! Please enjoy! :D

Prologue:

*Drip*

“W-Wait! P-Please! I-Ugh! I’ll give you anything you want! Just please don’t kill me!”

*Drip*

“PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!!”

*Drip*

“NO!! NOT AGAIN!! NO! PLEASE!!! IM SORRY!!! NO!!! SOMEONE HELP M—“

*Splat!*

His hands were once again stained with the familiar crimson liquid. The same liquid that smears the skin in red when you try and wipe it off. The same irony liquid he’s spilled countless times. The same substance he himself had within his body. Blood. Finally the soundproof walls of his basement could stop restraining against letting the screams of agony and torture slip through them to any listening ears outside. His lifeless metallic eyes glistened in satisfaction at the hefty amount of blood that covered his black elbow-length gloves and apron. He pulled down the black mask around his mouth and nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance at the mess his latest victim had made. He put the tarps there for a reason, easy disposal of blood, however his victim was so squirmy that blood had gotten onto his perfectly clean stone slab floors. His dark ebony brows furrowed, a heavy aggravated sigh escaping his throat.

“How troublesome. If you were still alive I would’ve tortured you more for getting blood on my floor before killing you.” He huffed and took his latest victim off of the hooks he had lodged into his armpits to keep him up and still. He heaved the large man up and took him towards a pristinely clean metal table, an autopsy table he had attained curtesy of a customer. He opened the drawer attached to the metal table and pulled out a large syringe, flicking the bottle twice before injecting it into his victims veins. Since he recently died and hadn’t started decomposing, it was necessary for the extremely sanitary man to drain as much blood as he could. Once he began to draw blood, he carefully watched as the crimson liquid filled the syringe with its thick content. He collected ten pints of blood from his body successfully, and refrigerated the blood packets in a large cooler he had built in himself. “Tch, this better be enough for that four-eyed bitch.” He mumbled irritably.

As if on cue, he received a call from the woman in particular. He grunted and slid one of his gloves off, pressing the button on the screen to answer. “What is it four-eyes. Couldn’t come to check this guy for yourself?” He placed the phone on speaker and carefully slid his glove back on, making sure his skin was clear and clean before he started again. The phone laid on a wooden table close to the metal one where he would skillfully be dismembering his corpse. “Ah, Levi! Great you answered! And murder isn’t really my strong suit! I don’t get off on it as much as you do! Did you get the blood?” He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue at her energetic attitude. He rinsed his gloves in the sink quickly and grabbed the file on the guy his customer had faxed him. “Yeah. Ten pints. Need any organs or anything? Better hurry before they’re unusable anymore.”

“Well, there’s a specific process in removing the organs, I would need to do that! Plus the patient would need to be brain dead and still breathing to use organs to their fullest benefit!” He clicked his tongue once again and snapped the file closed, throwing it onto the wooden desk he kept downstairs to do his research and filing. He approached another metal table, but this one was full of more sinister tools. Many of the tools littered on the wall and on the table were stained and dried with blood. Leaving no room for excuse that the man had ultimately tortured his victim until his death. Although the clean freak he was, he found it pointless to rinse the blood off when he would be continuously torturing his victim. “Tch... well I have your blood. I’ll run some tests following the strict instructions you gave me to make sure this gluttonous bastard doesn’t have a disease or some shit.” His brunette customer laughed across the other end of the phone, shuffling being done as she pulled out some files. He was about to grab his circular saw to begin dismembered his victim, when his next assignment was given to him. “You’re next target is (Y/N) (L/N). A young college student with straight A’s, a bright future, and a promising education.”

“What? Why would you want me to take her life? Sounds as if you like her.” The prestigious doctor sighed on the other end of the phone, and she looked on the file, smiling as she stared at the young girl, reluctant to fax her murderous friend the file on her. She paused, before taking in a deep breath and slapping the file closed. “She’s a sweet girl. A patient here not too long ago. After getting hit by a drunk driver she had to have stitches and a cast put on her foot. She was very kind. But she’s proven a big distraction for my hospital.” The ebony-haired man quirked his thin eyebrow up at her sudden comment. This particular future victim interested him. Probably because she annoyed the eccentric woman, and rarely anyone ever annoyed the woman. “Hmm. Done. Fax me her file and I’ll get to tracking her down right away.”

“No need to track her. I can just ask her to come into the hospital.” He was interested now. An easy catch? An annoying girl to play with and taunt? He felt his lips twitch in the slightest, tempted to stretch into a sadistic grin at the rush of adrenaline spiking through his veins. One question spiraled his brain though. “Why does a shitty brat like her annoy you so much? Tch, thought you would’ve annoyed Moblit with your stupid chatter before a kid ever dreamed of enjoying you.” His friend sighed loudly and started typing on her computer, obvious by the familiar clicking of the keyboard. The doctor finally responded to his question, stunning him into silence at the very boring and stupid answer he received. “Well, lets see... She visits my sicker patients and gives them false hope. The people need honestly rather than hope if they’re terminal. They’re gonna die without a thought in their mind that they’re really dying.” The man scoffed at the received answer and started up the circular saw, trying to drown out her pointless chatter.

“Sounds as if she’s trying to help them and not let them suffer.” Silence spread around the air around the bloodied man, all except the familiar metallic ringing of his rather clean circular saw. He could perfectly tell she was considering his explanation, and was painfully reluctant to send him the assignment. However, even if she didn’t send the information, he would track her down either way. His powerful authority as a police officer gave him a hefty upper hand in tracking anyone he so desired. “Whatever, it’s a brat. Hurry up and fax me her file so I can continue with my hobby.” He mumbled, pulling the black protective mask over his nose and mouth, slipping on some protective glasses. His strong hands grasped onto the pale cold flesh of his victim, and leg the screeching metal collide with muscle, bone, and tissue.

Once his corpse was dismembered, he fired up his incinerator and slid the body into the enclosed space. He had gotten a clear document allowing him to have it in his basement. He had everyone convinced that he went through a lot of garbage, and thought it easier to have an incinerator. They reluctantly let him install it, but he paid the price of paying a fine every couple months. After the body had turned to ash, he threw the limbs in and hummed in satisfaction at a good kill. He turns towards the mess in his basement, and his satisfaction turned to disgust once he spotted the blood on his tools and his once sparkling stone slab floors. After hours of vigorous cleaning later, he replaced the tarps and made his once dirty tools sparkle and shine. Finally, he went to his desk and picked up the papers his customer had sent him.

“(Y/N) (L/N).” He grinned.

“Perfect.”

[fishsticksloser]

Pls do Zen and MC zoombie apocalypse pls (also play zoombies w me on COD)

It's the End of the World

Zen x gn!reader

Warnings: zombies, gore, swore, fluff

Who knew Zen's apartment would be such a great place to be during the zombie apocalypse? Underground, close to a few different shops, heavy doors. You had always joked about the RFA coming over to stay safe during the apocalypse, but that's because you never thought it would happen.

It finally happened. You all we huddled around in the living room eating breakfast. The walls were covered in mattresses to make the house soundproof, the windows were covered with sheets and mattresses to keep out light. And what's breakfast? Bread and water. If felt like you were living in a prison.

"We need to get more food." Jaehee finally spoke. You all were friends, but living with each other caused too much tension.

"MC & I will be heading out to get some today." Zen sighs. "Seven, has there been any news?"

"Yeah, they started a safe house at C&R." Seven responds.

"That's good news." Zen nods.

"It will close in about 2 weeks and whoever didn't make it will be stuck here." Seven continues. "They're gonna start shipping us out to places that aren't contaminated."

"That's amazing." Yoosung smiles. "We can get out of here."

"We have to get to C&R first, Yoosung." Jumin frowned.

You stood at the door with an empty backpack and duffle bag. The goal is to get as much supplies as possible. You took a deep breath and the two of you left the apartment.

"Okay." Zen stood up. "MC and I are going to get supplies. We'll head out tomorrow morning at dawn. So pack what you need. We'll try to find bags and medicine." No one said anything, they just nodded and went about their day.

❚❚ ─●─────────────── ↻

"Stay close to me." Zen whispered.

"You act like we've never done this before." You sigh. You knew the rules, you knew you aren't supposed to wander or be alone.

"I know..." Zen stops and looks at you. "I just don't want to lose you."

You continue towards the shops and step inside a corner store. You spot some snacks and some medicine and quickly shove it into your bag. Your job was medicine and food, Zen would get anything else useful.

When you finished grabbing things, you went to look for Zen. You went down an isle you thought you heard him at. He wasn't there. There was a woman, an arm with almost no skin on it, only bone showing. Her eyes looked dead, yet the focused on you. She stumbled towards you, arms outstretched, mouth foaming in hunger. You can't scream, that would draw in more zombies.

"Zen!" You whisper shout, praying he could hear you. But she was getting closer. You started backing up, only for your back to hit the counter. Your hands felt around for anything to stop her. You find what feels to be a bat. You take a swing. SMACK! The zombie falls to the ground, her head practically exploded thankfully none got on you.

"MC!?" Zen comes around the corner and sees the dead body on the floor. "Are you okay?"

You two continue on your journey, when you've hit all the stores, you head back home. You both enter the house and are rushed by the RFA.

"Yeah." You took a deep breath and instantly regret it, the body smells.

❚❚ ─●─────────────── ↻

"Are you okay?" Jumin asks. "You were gone longer than normal."

"Yeah, we're fine." Zen laughs. "I found out MC is more badass than I thought." You told them about the journey and showed them all the supplies you guys got. You guys had something other than bread for dinner that night and went to bed, ready to leave at dawn.

"I'm really proud of you." Zen murmured into you hair. You look into his eyes and smile.

"I can't wait to finally be safe and be able to actually live a life not survive." You whisper back. All he did was chuckle before pulling you closer and falling asleep. Maybe this isn't the end of the world.

[queenbvadva]

Day:6 AU

Mirror Verse by http://synapticfirefly.tumblr.com

Some mirror verse art by: http://sleepyeule.tumblr.com/

(Warning blood and gore)

Eric hated the normal in this town. It was cruel, hardcore and he was sure if he didn’t have Kyle to care for him he would have died long ago. Eric only wanted to spread some Christmas cheer this year and hopefully get a bit more than $10 worth of donations this year. Yes, this year he was determined! He had Kyle’s Christmas present wrapped and packed away ‘Kyle’ messily scribbled on the wrapping paper. He had it hidden under his countless ‘ugly’ sweaters he owned. Today he decided to go with his Rudolf one for the extra warmth. Today was going to be a good day! He could just feel it! Even if later tonight was purge night he could make the most of the day! He got his iconic blue scarf that he had gotten from Kyle and wraps it around his neck carefully. He sat on his bed slipping his feet into his snow boots before getting up grabbing his bag full of medical supplies. He checks to make sure he had everything before heading out of his room to the front door.

“Ma I’m heading out!” He didn’t hear a response so he assumed she was busy doing something. He shrugs and heads out the door, locking it behind himself.  Today was going to be great! It snowed last night so there was a layer of snow that covered the sidewalk and street. There was something satisfying about the crunch of snow under his boots and he smiled softly inhaling the sweet smell of pine. It was a comforting smell, a homely, safe smell. Though his moment of peace was ruined by the sounds of a car screeching down the road. Eric watched helplessly as he someone walking down the opposite sidewalk gets crushed against the truck and a lamp post screaming in agony. He covered his mouth with a shaky hand staring bewildered as he watched the girl flail under the truck trying to shove it off. An arm wraps around his shoulder forcing him to walk down his stairs and down to the sidewalk. He glances up at the arm seeing none other than Kyle Broflovski with a slightly annoyed sneer on his face. Eric glances down at his watch seeing that he was in deed late.

    “I-I’m sorry Kyle… It’s just… I was…” Before he could even manage to stutter out some sort of reasonable excuse Kyle cut him off.

    “Don't.” Kyle’s words were firm and harsh making Eric let out a submissive whimper but nods anyway. The two walked for a while and Eric tried to focus on the sound of the snow instead of the girl’s screams. Kyle seemed to be in a bad mood already today so he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. The two approached the High School, Kyle was nice enough to escort the shaky Eric to his locker as the first bell rang.

“You’ll be ok?” Kyle mumbles under his breath and Eric looks up to see a gentle look on Kyle’s face. That was a rare sight especially how paranoid Kyle normally was in school. Eric nods softly a gentle smile creeping on his face at the sight. Kyle felt safe with him, safe enough to smile in public.

“Yeah… Yeah… The first bell rang, you should hurry and get to class.” Kyle nods his expression going back to it’s normal stone cold appearance before he head to his class, sneering at a few classmates who looked at them funny. Eric smiles opening his locker and grabbing his notebooks and books he would need for class. He took a breath and nods smiling, he said today was going to be a good day! He could still turn this day around. He’d go through class, get good notes, hang out with Kyle then get donations! He set out to his class with a hopeful mentality, though that didn’t get him far. He whimpers in pain and surprise when he was shoved against the lockers.

“Look at this gay little fag!” Some unknown guy chuckles as a crowd starts forming. He was wearing a North Park sweater, this couldn’t be good… If Kyle found out... Eric quickly turns trying to walk away.

“Excuse me…” he says politely crowd only laughing at him. The guy only grabs Eric once more slamming him against the locker harder this time holding him there making tears brim his eyes from the pain.

“Aw what’s the baby gonna do? Cry?” Eric tried his best to hold his tears back as the crowd laughs mocking him once more. He scanned the crowd for any signs of help. Kenny was only watching his arms crossed curiously, he wouldn’t be getting any help from his ‘friend’ today. A painful punch to the eye brought him back to reality, he could feel the swelling happening already but the guy punched him once more. Eric grit his teeth trying his best to bear through the pain. He braces for another punch but instead he was dropped to the ground his scarf leaving his shoulders. Eric goes wide eyed, or the best he could with his black eye at his attacker seeing his beloved blue scarf in his hands.

“N-No wait!” He calls pathetically trying to grasp the scarf. The guy only laughed evilly pulling it away.

“What? Did your mama make it for you?” With that the male cruelly ripped his scarf in half. Eric felt his heart drop to his stomach. He watched helplessly as the guy lifted the scarf victoriously to the crowd. Eric stumbled to his feet tears now dripping from his face. That scarf, that was so dear to him. That Kyle had trusted to him was now torn in half.

“Aw look at the baby cry!” The guy laughed in Eric’s face. Before Eric even realized what he did his fist slammed full force into the guys throat making him fall back onto the ground choking. When the realization hit he goes wide eyed stumbling back in surprise at his own actions. He quickly gathers his scarf that the male dropped scanning the crowd seeing none other than Kyle burst through looking at the male and then Eric.

There was something he had never seen on Kyle’s face in that moment. W-Was Kyle scared of him? Eric gripped his scarf parts pathetically bursting through the other side of the crowd shaking badly and sprinting as far as his legs would carry him. He was running surprisingly fast, faster than he had ever run in his life. He didn’t care where he would end up he just couldn’t face Kyle. Finally out of breath Eric took the time to look around at where he ended up. He was on Main Street by Photo Dojo. He took a soft breath, he was smart enough to not stay on Main Street for long. Eric made his way to the playground whipping a bench clear of the snow. He sits down and looks at his scarf sadly opening his bag looking for a sewing kit. He had sewn enough of Kyle’s wounds and old stuffed animals that Kyle had torn that he should be able to fix it. The day faded before he even realized it. He sighs contently lifting his scarf up checking his sew work. It wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t bad either. The sun was starting to go down so he checked his phone. His mom must be worried sick. His phone was blown up with messages. Kenny saying something about how ‘awesome’ what he did was. Most of the text being threats from Kyle for what would happen if he didn’t answer. He scrolled through a good four pages of text before he came across some messages from his mom. He at least deserved to explain to Kyle what happened. He pulls his knees onto the bench hugging them from the cold calling Kyle. The phone only got to one ring before Kyle picked up right away.

“Where the fuck are you?!” He hisses angrily. Eric couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his face. Kyle was worried about him.

“I… I’m at the playground… I… Kyle I’m sorry… B-Because I… I-If I didn’t fight then… you would still..” a few tears slip down his face not helping with the fact he was cold at all, he let out a pathetic laugh.

“I’m sorry that I worried you… I-I just couldn’t face you after I…” The silence from Kyle was killing him. Did Kyle hate him now? What if he didn’t trust him anymore? The tears started to stream down his face now at all the possibilities.

“Eric.” A breathy voice says drawing his attention away from his phone to his left. At the gate stood a very tired Kyle his face warped in a confusion of anger and worry. Eric could only stare helplessly as Kyle marched up to him. He couldn’t even care if Kyle killed him, he didn’t deserve to look at Kyle so his eyes went to the ground.

“I’m sorry Kyle…” He whispers watching his tears splash onto the snow. Instead of meeting the cold end of a blade he was pulled into a warm hug, Kyle sitting next to him now.

“I was so worried…” Kyle whispered. If Eric even breathed he would have missed it. Kyle’s attempt to comfort Eric went much better than he expected as Eric now sobbed onto his shoulder ruining his jacket with a mess of snot and tears. Kyle rubs Eric’s back trying to comfort him. He calmed him for almost thirty minutes before Eric passed out from pure exhaustion on his shoulder.

“Geez… You’re too trusting Eric…” he mumbles softly gently wrapping the scarf safely around Eric’s neck once more. Kyle lifts Eric bridal style into his arms carrying him back home. Eric was cold, even freezing. Eric’s nose was now a runny red and his face a bit more pale than normal. Ms.Cartman gladly let Kyle in, knowing well that he was one of the main, if not the main reason Eric was alive. Kyle carried Eric up to his bed laying him gently on the bed pulling the blankets over him. A soft rare smile crossed Kyle’s face at how soundly Eric slept. Like nothing was ever wrong in the world. Kyle places a soft gentle kiss to Eric’s head.

“Sleep well.” he mumbles into Eric’s lovely brown hair. Kyle pulls back going back downstairs explaining to miss. Cartman about his plan for tonight. The last thing he needed was for miss. Cartman to freak out and try and shoot his men. Miss. Cartman as expected was enthusiastic about getting extra protection for Eric. Even if Kyle’s security system was top notch. Kyle headed out with a soft sigh getting ready for a long night. Kyle and some of his other men stayed guard at Eric’s house in case any North Park members decided to get their revenge. He couldn’t take the chance of losing Eric. At about 1am Kyle’s phone goes off and he quickly picks up without hesitation.

“What?” he hisses coldly through the phone. There was silence for a few seconds before Eric’s sweet voice came across the line.

“are you outside…?” Kyle smiles softly and let out a soft hum.

“No, it must be some demon.” Eric whines unhappily through the line.

“Kyle that’s not funny!” Kyle let out a short laugh before going quiet at the sound of rustling his eyes landing on a rabbit. He relaxes once more hearing Eric sneeze through the line. It wasn’t a surprise he got sick.

“Get some sleep Shayn.” Kyle muses through the line.

“I will… Be safe… Promise?” Eric whispers softly the words melting Kyle’s heart. There was nothing quite like the feeling of knowing someone was waiting at home worried for you.

“I will… Now sleep.” with that Kyle hung up first looking up at the night sky as snow started to drift down. Today wasn’t too bad of a day.

Eric woke up the next morning with an ice pack to his eye, his mother probably placing it there to try and help with the swelling. Eric smiles softly at the thought of Kyle carrying him home. It was a sweet action, probably more than he’ll get through the next year. So he dedicates the thought to memory storing it in the back of his mind in case he’d ever need it. Wait a minute… The realization hit him. Kyle was in his room. Where Kyle’s present was hidden away. He quickly got out of bed flinging the covers off and stammers over to check if it was still there, sighing in relief at the present. It wasn’t anything too fancy but Eric had spent almost all his money on it. Underneath that wrapping was a silver watch that Eric noticed Kyle had his eye on. Knowing that it was safe he closes the drawer.

@kymanweek

[moth208]

nate @rk8con is a pedophile and just in general an absolute fucking creep

he was also @/martymxfly @/lawyermorty @/dysbelief @/g-engy  @/dokteur and @/bigbrosquid

yeah im remaking this callout post because i have alot more to add from the old one and just updating it wouldnt do it justice. before i start i wanna say that the person im actually in contact with would like to stay unnamed so nate dosent find him. he was 12-14 when nate was his ‘friend’. nate was 17-19. currently nate is ~20

there were several other children between the ages of 12 and 14 who hes been in contact and rped with but i dont know how far he went with them. if anyone would like to share with me their story ill add it to this post, either with or without your name.

i encourage you to reblog this. nate has removed himself from the situation and even when “taking responsibility” turned the blame on unnamed person, who was 13 and the time and is 15 currently, instead. i want him driven off this fucking website.

tw for pedophilia, incest, child death, slurs, and gore/torture/noncon porn.

in case anyone doubts the validity in  any of this, because yes i am aware we dont have as much as we COULD, and most of it is his rp drawings, im litterally goign to start with him admitting that yes. he did roleplay smut (gore and torture smut at that) with a 13 year old as an adult, even though he knew unnamed person was 13.

(fullview)

(fullview)

now im gonna go out on a limb here and say hes a lying bastard when he said “i thought he was 16″ because thats such bullshit. 1) nate was STILL an adult when this happened and rping smut with a 16 year old is still not good??? 2) nate had known unnamed for over a year when this happened

this (very victim blamey, lol) ask he recieved was 10 months ago, when we made the first callout.

this imgur album is from 2 years ago, and was made from an rp with unnamed person. unnamed person was 13 at the time. there are MANY more imgur albums that include unnamed persons art, but ill get to that in a sec.

this imgur album includes an oc unnamed person made when he was 12 (the green haired one) and an oc of nates (the blue haired one), who was unnamed persons ocs father.

“jsyk

the green kid was my oc and Nate saw him as me and he drew that

literally after I had to convince him not to off himself ig

and I don’t have proof of it bc I deleted the screenshot but he drew the blue guy fucking the green kid

and the blu guy is his dad So”

“the keroro (light gren hair) was by the person who he had a crush on and she was a girl btw so this is extra creepy

its “vent art” but its really fucking creepy vent art”

hmmm...yeah you think (click for imgur album)

more creepy shit with these characters

heres him using racial slurs he cant reclaim (hes filipino/white)

(this screenshot was taken with the waybackmachine of his old nsfw blog which was FULL OF INCEST AND NONCON btw)

and this...which is fairly recent (link to the actual post)

and now for the wierd shit from all of nates fuckin imgur albums. nsfw incoming.

(imgur album) i think tihs is pretty self explanatory

(imgur album) now while theres nothing...inherently wrong with drawing gore or porn or whatever im posting these specifically because this guy was roleplaying with children 4 and 5 years younger than him. nate was an adult. 

also these dog things were drawn by unnamed person.

(album)

“me: u drew thi?

unnamed person: yea

unnamed person: mostly as a joke”

“and then he made a huge arc in storyline ig of sans killing them

ALSO yea

in the other one that’s art by a person named OD and someone named ram

ram is shit but they aren’t callout worthy

but they went along w a lot of nates freaky shit rps

(inb4 keep in mind that the babies were supposed to be kids or like... pets or something idk but he’s into child endangerment which is fucked up)”

uh... (album)

(album)

these two pics were from rps with unnamed person and nate. this album was posted in january 2016. (album)

and, of course, we have archives of his old nsfw blog, which sported a plethora of noncon and incest porn

you can look at it yourself here if youd like :)

yes some of the images dont load because he changed his url but you can see from the tags.

these are from his current fucking blog. i mean. come the fuck on dude.

(post 1) (post 2)

EDIT: the first pic in post 2 was drawn with unnamed person

(context of this was i had sent several screenshots and asked unnamed person to identify the artists)

bonus asks of him being a victim blaming dick after the first callout:

annnd of course theres this:

now i also have truscum/transmedicalist receipts. im not sure if hes still truscum, these posts are from over a year ago and i wouldnt put being truscum on the same level as being a pedophile, but its worth mentioning in this post anyway.

annnd this shitty response to the pre-callout post unnamed person ORIGINALLY made. unnamed person anonymously sent this to a callout blog because he was too scared to actually callout nate until later.

also about his response

“However, I didn’t do the rest of that other shit. During the time I was roleplaying with said 13 year old, I was also a minor. I didn’t know any better. I’ve learned to ask first and be assertive about my rp partners telling the truth. Let it be known that said RPs were taking place on a website that required you to be 16 years of age to sign up to. Not that this changes the fact that they were a minor, but there was some deceit on the other end.“

thats such a weak argument. youre a piece of shit and a pedophile. you exchanged PHONE NUMBERS with unnamed person. “i was also a minor” you were 17 at the youngest. unnamed person was 12 when you were 17 do not pull that shit you goddamn liar. you also knew unnamed person for 2 fuckin years, there is absolutely no goddamn way you did not know he was 12-14.

“The worst part is, I know who’s sending this. I won’t say who, since they submitted this anonymously to some random tumblr callout blog and I suppose they don’t want to be called out for lying about me but, basically this is the person that started bullying and emotionally harrassing a friend of mine for being a “friend stealer” because my fandom interests moved elsewhere. We had this discussion privately, but you’re still sending these things about me. Alright.“

nice victim blaming. you were 18 or 19 fucking years old when you wrote this. unnamed person was 13 when he sent this message to this callout blog. the worst part about his response? he admitted to this in a skype chat later on (screenshots of skype chat earlier up in this post). 

and he never admitted that he LIED about unnamed person lying PUBLICALLY. he NEVER publically apologized or admitted that he fucking LIED. he knew this was true and he still turned the blame on a fucking 13 year old.

“Clearly you don’t understand the definition of a pedophile, either, dear callout blog. If a character is of age, they are not a child. Pedophiles don’t wish for children to be older. That’s what makes them a pedophile. What the fuck.”

lol?

“Two of those posts are taken completely out of context. 1) ���tumblr says people like me dont deserve love” was in regards to the fact that i look and sound 12 years old. You dont understand the kind of struggle i literally go through every day because people think im 12. cops harrass me for skipping school (TRUE FUCKING STORY) im constantly offered kids menus, and i know, by god, that no one my age will ever find me attractive because of how young i look. its devastating. these are just the facts of my damn life. I hate it.“

what that fuck does that even mean bro. (TRUE FUCKING STORY) like get a fuckin life

also i appreciate that he tagged the post #sjw . classy.

lastly. nate if youre reading this. if you think to yourself “what do you people WANT from me” its so so so fucking simple. he wants a genuine apology. he wants you to realize how fucked up what you did was. not what you gave me in that skype chat, and failed to mention publically. not any kind of “but he did _____” not any “i didnt know!!!” he wants a GENUINE, REAL PUBLIC apology, not one you can hide behind the bushes. and if you, as an adult, cannot deliver that i hope you get driven off this fucking site and this follows you wherever you go. you have been given MULTIPLE chances to apologize, you have been given MULTIPLE chances to take responsibility, but you refused to every goddamn time. “sharing the blame” is not an apology. in no circumstance is a 13 year old more responsible for themself than an 18 year old roleplaying smut (INCEST SMUT AT THAT). there is litterally no argument for this. end of discussion. 

and once again, if anyone else who was in contact with him has anything to add onto this, pm me. if you wish to remain anonymous as well all you have to do is tell me.

UPDATE 6/12/2018:

https://sta.sh/013gb1q6agtl

this happened before/during the time unnamed person was in contact with nate and is not recent but hoo boy does it shed some light on....everything. irl foreshadowing.

[uniformbravo]

time for... a story

back in 9th grade art class i had this painting assignment & i decided to do fanart for a fic i was obsessed w/ at the time and this painting was coming out so good i was literally so proud of it, i didn’t finish it in time for the due date but i took it home to finish it on my own bc i just loved it that much

my room was incredibly messy at the time, i would have these giant piles of papers & notebooks n shit all over my bed and the floor surrounding, and that’s where this painting went. which was completely fine with me because i’m an “organized mess” kind of person (i literally still remember years later exactly where the painting was in that particular mess) but my mom is distinctly the opposite so she made me clean the whole disaster eventually, and i somehow lost track of the painting

several months and multiple fruitless searches later i resigned myself to the fact that i’d probably accidentally thrown it out in my big cleanup and would never see it again (though i was still intensely confused about how i managed to lose it because i literally just had no memory of moving it, it just. straight up disappeared)

years have passed since then and every now and again i remember that painting and feel regretfully wistful (and still very confused) and wonder what happened to it and wish i could see it just one more time, because at this point i only really have a vague recollection of what was on it- a composition divided into quadrants illustrating different parts of the fic i was basing it on, a torn piece of lined paper in the center (because the fic’s title was “lined paper”), and in the top right corner this tree that i was super proud of, i remember thinking it was the best tree i’d drawn in my entire life

so honestly whenever i remember this painting i mostly think of that tree and my strong feelings towards it and that’s the main thing i’m curious about, wanting to see that damn tree again to find out what was so special about it, because like. i’m a better artist now, i’ve improved so much, if i saw it again it probably wouldn’t even be that good, right? but i think this tree in particular was the first one that i was like “hell yeah” about and influenced the way i’ve drawn trees ever since then, so like it’s a big deal right. i really miss this tree

the last time i thought about it (before right now, i mean) was actually earlier this week, on my way home from my painting class? usually painting in general reminds me of this painting because the last time i actually painted with, like, acrylics was in high school for this class, so i just have that strong association built in, so when i think of painting i think of the painting so i was thinking about that on my way home from class and feeling the regret that comes with it like man if only i could just see it again, what even happened to it, etc. etc.

anyway, my sister is working on a drawing right now, she says she suddenly got struck with inspiration and wants to hold onto it for as long as possible to finish this piece she’s working on (which is honestly very pretty, it’s a sunset scene and the colors are so soft and vibrant)

she started it the other day, and she wanted to work with colored pencils, but she couldn’t find the big box of colored pencils that we keep around for people to use, so instead she went and got out this, like... one of those big ol’ art boxes that have a myriad of random supplies like colored pencils & oil pastels & shit like that?? we’ve had this one literally forever and it’s just kind of been sitting around for most of that time, but it’s finally gotten some use because our colored pencil shoebox happens to be mia atm

this morning i noticed a notebook on the floor by the couch (my sister’s workspace) with some, like, papers sticking out? and on top of the notebook is some mail addressed to my sister, and i don’t recognize this sketchbook at all, so obviously it’s hers. from what i’ve seen in the past, her art style is is pretty... eccentric? is that the right word? lemme google this

ok that sounds meaner than i meant ghhdg uhh idk, the best way i can think of to explain it is that her people look like they’d work really well as illustrations for scary stories? there’s something almost creepy or unsettling about them, but in a good way, like i’m pretty sure she’s doing it on purpose

anyway, i bring it up because there’s this drawing sticking out of the notebook and it looks like her style because there’s this creepy-lookin dude that totally matches her types of drawings so im like “cool” and go back to what im doing

then, later, i happen to look at it again, and fuckin..... it’s the top of the page that’s sticking out. and there’s this..... tree. in the top right corner. and im like

Huh

so i pull out the drawing, which actually turns out to be a half-finished painting, and sure e-fuckin-nough it is The painting

needless to say i was losing my shit on this fine sunday morning like goddamn i haven’t seen this thing in like 7 years i thought it was gone forever and that i’d never see it again i mourned this painting so many times and here it is, literally holding it in my hands, back from the fucking dead like a zombie (which is thematically appropriate because “lined paper” was a horror story)

like, that’s why i thought it was my sister’s drawing? because it was creepy-lookin? i didn’t even recognize my own style smh. on the back there’s a little color key and i had forgotten about this but the reason it was divided into four sections was because the assignment was color harmonies! we were supposed to paint a single image but in each quadrant use different colors for different harmonies, like complementary, triadic, cool, and some other shit that im too lazy to look at but u get the picture

so after i got over being reunited with my fuckin long-lost painting i had to wonder why my sister had it, right. back in the day she used to steal our stuff, like all the time? she doesn’t do it anymore so we’re cool lol dw but like since this was so long ago i wondered if maybe she had taken it back then & just forgotten about it?

so i asked her abt it when she got home (i had to wait a few hours but honestly?? whats a few hours to several years) and she said the notebook was fuckin.... in the art box. just like. in there. this entire time it was in this goddamn shitty art supply box that nobody ever uses bc we have better art supplies around and the only reason it got pulled out of its cobweb-ridden corner of the house was because said superior art supplies were missing. so if my sister had been able to find the colored pencils i never would have found this fucking painting, we probably would have just eventually donated the box w/o checking inside & someone somewhere out there would’ve gotten this extra half-finished creepy fuckin painting w/ my name written in huge letters across the back in their new box of art supplies oh god

anyway i wasn’t gonna do this but i’d feel bad if i didn’t include a picture of the damn thing at this point so here it is

warnings for blood, gore, implied suicide imagery, & general spooky horror story type stuff

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i drew this 7 yrs ago dont judge ok

the fic itself has long since been deleted from ffn (rip) but from what i remember: it was a south park fic & focused on slenderman? i was completely new to horror & had never heard of slenderman before so the story rly spooked me lol he would like show up through any reflective surface so i was scared of mirrors for a while

i wish i could remember the significance of all the shit i included here lol i mean we got slendy in there a couple times, that much is obvious... i don’t even know what the tree is supposed to mean it’s just some random tree at this point

im p sure that’s stan & kyle in the bottom right, and that’s probably stan again in the top left? he’s like bleeding kenny’s initials tho idk why that’s happening (those are kenny’s initials right. kenneth james or smth). that’s gotta be tweek in the mirror at top middle just look at his shirt, and as for bottom left uhhh i think that’s craig?? i actually specifically remember that chapter, something about a baseball game & craig was pissed off and went off to the bathroom alone & then black tentacles happened, so that’s what’s happening in the drawing

anyway. aaanyway. that’s a fuckin mystery solved now, right. i cant believe it was in that dumbass case the whole time i stg??? thank u for listening 2 my story i spent too long on it & now it’s 2:45 am bye

[asouthernvampire]

7 Vignettes of Anthony’s Life

Yeah there’s some backstory here. Also violence. Some fucked up shit. Typical lunatic vampire stuff yeah.

1864

TW: Slavery, mention mostly but still

When Anthony had first joined the fight he had fully believe in the cause. How could he not? He was a proud southern boy, born and raised to believe in states rights. In his own rights that had his family served by slaves. The President called for the emancipation of slaves, which would also mean the destruction of the future that Anthony expected for himself, for his own family. A young man, it filled Anthony with fury. When the call went out to enlist, Anthony was one of the first of his county to sign up. “They ain’t gonna get away with this insult!” He would tell everyone would listen, and even those that didn’t particularly want to.

So a young, naive young man went off to fight, having no idea about the realities of war. Anthony watched good men die around him. He saw supplies dwindling and soldiers struggling to keep hold of enough supplies. Some of the men ended up shoeless and their feet froze. It was all Anthony could do to make sure he managed to keep his own shoes, just as much of an effort as just being able to avoid being shot. Anthony was managing, even if he knew he was losing weight and it was only a matter of time before he caught something too.

But before that could happen, the foolish general he served under stumbled into Gettysburg. Before Anthony knew it, he was fighting in the bloodiest battle of them all. Not a one of the friends he knew survived, and he himself felt something heavy hit his side. Anthony collapsed on the ground, sure that this moment might be it. He had nothing to help himself, the medics were beyond reach. Gradually the sounds of intense fighting started to peter out, the moaning and groaning becoming a disturbing stillness.

It was the reason that he heard it at all, something that sounded like slurping, as if someone was sucking on something, or sucking something up. Anthony managed to turn his head to the side, squinting in the darkness to see some dark figure hovering over one of the men he’d fought with. “W-What are you doin’?” Anthony blurted, grimacing at himself for drawing attention. But it was strange. He even thought he saw a strange glint of light as the person’s head jerked over. “Oh that’s interesting. Still alive are you?”

The strange man made his way over to Anthony, and upon his approach Anthony could see that there was blood on his lips, a wicked smile on his face. “Y-Yeah. What the hell are you doin’? Desecratin’ the bodies?” He questioned, the blood loss and all clearly leaving him with less sense than he ought to have. But if Anthony was going to die on this battlefield, he was going to learn what he could before he did. The stranger managed to look amused. “I am simply taking what is made available to me so easily. It is not as if they need it anymore.” Still, the man moved closer, kneeling next to Anthony. “You know I ought to let you die here. But the fact that you are still around is rather impressive. I think you might make an interesting one.”

Dazed as he was, Anthony could only watch as the stranger bit into his own wrist before holding it out to Anthony. “Wha-” “Just drink it. I am showing you a mercy. At least this way you only die for a moment.” Eventually he just shoved his wrist in Anthony’s mouth, smiling as the man finally latched onto the wrist and sucked himself. “That is much better. Soon this tragedy will all far behind you.”

1900

TW: violence? Is it gore? Not really it’s not detailed

Anthony wandered for what seemed like decades, feeding where he could but never settling properly until he found his way to Italy. While there was decent violence in other countries and cities, he found himself drawn toward Sicily. As Anthony made his way into the city, he started to plot his method of connecting himself with the mob. See he refused to be someone dependent on the organization, so he mapped out the place and then waited until the perfect opportunity struck. And so it did when an inept younger member of the group accidentally murdered a man he was questioning.

It was too easy really. Anthony slunk his way in, a sly smile on his face. “Well now. That certainly wasn’t your best move boy. Do you even have a clue ‘bout what you’re gonna do with that body?” The boy was so stunned he hardly seemed to move, other than a quick headshake. “Yeah that’s about what I thought. Okay. I’ll make it easier for you. Turn around.” While Anthony wasn’t particularly affected by what he was about to do, the kid didn’t seem to be quite ready for the gory method he intended to use to be rid of the evidence. But he could utilize the extra strength he had been given, carefully ripping the corpse apart, limb from limb, carefully bundling the pieces up and setting them into a trash can close by.

“Alright...now this is the part I’m sure you can handle. Got a match?” The boy hesitated for a moment and then fumbled in his pockets, finally pulling out a little box. “I’m sure you don’ need me tellin’ you what to do with that.” He smirked, tapping his foot impatiently as the kid struggled with the match, striking it against the pack once, twice, and then finally getting the flame and tossing it into the trash. “Good. Let’s have you do a couple more of those before we get outta here.” Eventually the whole thing was ablaze, and Anthony and his new companion properly freshened up went off to meet with the mobsters of Sicily.

1915

Anthony was starting to lose interest in the mafia. The crime organization did plenty of terrible things, but even that was not quite enough to satisfy his thirst. Having spent 15 years with smaller meals to try to blend in a bit better with them left a dissatisfaction and restlessness that wasn’t easily solved. Until an Archduke from Austria got murdered. It was like a powder keg ignited. Country after country started militarizing, and Anthony decided he had to be in on the action. As the Great War started, Anthony found a way to falsify his papers, enlisting as an Englishman so that he could be involved as soon as possible.

Soon the vampire found himself in France, dirt and mud caked all over him. He seized the opportunity. And he utterly lost himself in his vampirism. Where the humans largely hid in their trenches, Anthony would find a way between each one, looking for any sign of humans that were already losing the battle with life and draining them. And at first that was more than satisfying. But as the war continued on, Anthony stopped having qualms about those on death’s door and those with lighter wounds.

It became impossible for Anthony to distinguish those things. Anthony fed on anyone bleeding. If it came to a point where he thought someone might notice, he would wander off to another trench. It was a feast as far as the eye could see. He grew reckless with the total ease at which he could eat at night. As he wandered through no man’s land, he nearly had his head blown off a few times. He was nearly spotted by one of the german soldiers as he feasted on an indistinguishable body out there.

And just as he forgot all about who he was, an older vampire named Wolfgang came upon him. “Now then. You are playing a dangerous game to be sure.” Anthony snarled, nearly lunging forward to snap at him and try to defend the latest feast he’d found. “Now now. That will not do either of us any good. You fool. You could expose us all.” The stranger seemed to study Anthony, watching as the younger vampire started readying himself to lunge again and then abruptly jerked forward and knocked Anthony back. “I will have none of that. Come. You will return home with me and get your senses back.”

1944

For the second time in our lifetime, we are now at war.

The radio announcement came through as Anthony and Wolfgang were exploring Paris. Since they had met on the battlefield, the two had spent a great deal of time together: first bringing Anthony’s sense back, and then informing the younger on some of the more interesting aspects of vampire society that Anthony had never learned. They had a wonderful peaceful time, but the call for another war reached out to that same dark pull that the two had been combating since 1915.

Wolfgang gave the man a look. “Surely you are not considering it. You know what will happen.” Anthony licked his lips, closing his eyes as he thought back to the sheer bliss and sated feeling that he had only ever had during that war. It had been glorious. It was glorious. “Surely it’s the morally right thing to do or whatever. So say my people. Though I guess you couldn’t get that as yours-” “Now I know you are not so ignorant. I am Austrian, not German. And we both know you do not care about what is morally right. Irrelevant really. I shall remain in Paris. And if Paris is overrun, I will visit your states. You should stay with me.”

Anthony snorted, looking Wolfgang up and down. “As charmin’ as it has been to live with you, I need it. Now I know what I’m like...I’ll control it better this time. But I want that feeling again. I need that feeling.” The two men stared at each other for a long time before Wolfgang finally sighed and shook his head. “You will get yourself killed for real at this rate. I do hope you take care.”

The younger vampire smiled, stepping forward and gently stroking a thumb over his cheek. “You care for me, I know. But don’t you worry. I can handle myself. I’m sure I’ll see you again sometime after this war ends.” With that, Anthony left Paris and joined British troops on the western front, feasting as recklessly and carelessly as he had once before.

1963

The isolation of Anthony’s life was starting to get to him. He hadn’t really had much of a close connection since he’d left Wolfgang in 1944 and it was starting to drive him crazier than usual. Post war he’d finally opted to return to the states, first settling in Georgia and then making his way to New York when he realized there were a few too many officers around for him to feed comfortably. But New York was lively, and it provided a wonderful hub for entertainment and food. It was here that he found Mary.

Mary was a struggling artist, and Anthony took an interest when she asked to do a good portrait of him. As he hadn’t one of those done since the 1860s, he decided to do it. The girl had a nice laugh, and before Anthony knew it he was compelling her to spend time with him. Then he was compelling her to care for him more, and soon he had her on some infatuation that wasn’t real. They married within the year, and he thought she was just the right choice for a longer lifetime. Anthony turned Mary shortly after they married. But it went horribly horribly wrong.

It didn’t take long after she woke to her new life for Mary to come free of whatever compulsion he had given her. Mary kicked him out of their home and declared she never wanted to see him again. Anthony had never been so angry. He took off, found a hapless fool and compelled them to bite Anthony in the neck, making sure it looked painful and bruised (and like a vampire bite) before he sought out the vampire hunter he had just been dodging for the last few months.

Anthony approached the man with wide horrified eyes, ready to make his wife suffer for humiliating him and making him feel as if he hadn’t done the right thing for her. “Help me. Please sir, please. I-I think my wife’s a-a vampire!” It was easy to lead the hunter to Mary, even easier to pretend as if he was horrified as the hunter murdered his wife in front of him.

1988

Anthony left New York for a brief spell but came back when Broadway released a new musical: Phantom of the Opera. He found himself enjoying it (and the voices) so much that he thought on a whim that he would only feed on musicians for the next decade. He carefully selected them, started with the singer who played Christine and soon trailed along down the list of musicians: Madonna, Prince, George Michael, Whitney Houston, Bon Jovi. He even tried to have at Freddie Mercury (though the timing didn’t quite work for him to get there). Unfortunately, the scrutiny that came upon the city and people as a whole after he’d taken a bite of Whitney was enough that he felt forced to leave and let go of his whim as easily as he’d picked it up.

2004

Anthony spent a long while wandering again, but this time he saw an opportunity in a place already suffering from great misfortune. A hurricane hit Louisiana, and while most well off people tried to get out of the area, he found his way back. It was the perfect place to have a little fun and feed. He pretended as if he were good, helping with some of the clean up even while he found unfortunate individuals to feed on. During the day he acted as the perfect neighbor, and at night he found those that no one would care about anyway and fed until he was sated. It was the first time in a long time he drained people, but with looting and other chaos, no one ended up the wiser.