#officer Gore

[z0mbietapeworm]

this was originally a redraw of his kill the snitch poster, but i lost the plot and just made my own.

[darie-vox]

Time for my once-a-year traditional drawing. yippie

I remembered why I don’t work with watercolors often </3

I actually have process this time so under cut vvv

First(very) rough sketch, sketch and colors getting painted :P

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THIS THING IS SCUUUFFED AS HELL & ITS ALSO THE BEST THING I HAVE ANIMATED THUS FAR. IM SO IN LOVE WITH EMIZEL. JUST WISH I GAVE HIM MORE STUPID TATTOOS. NEXT TIME THO. NEXT TIME. I ALSO LOVE VEX&VIV SOOOO MUCH. charlies flavor of Deranged is my FAVORITE!!

[daftaiyo]

AGHARAHGHHH BITB OBSESSION IS KICKING AGAIN

[zielemeczennicy]

kinda inspired by @zgyckbttl 's comics with jean and jacob ?? i think theyre v cool btw (i also did think myself about their possible relationship or whatever so i didnt just copy the idea ok,,)

so jeans ass is being haunted but the other two dead guys joined jacob since they got nothing else to do eugh. The Empire of the Undead's 3 man squad

dont have the energy to draw it, but i had a visual in mind of jacob at the front with his axe (or whatever he had on himself as a sapper) officer in the middle with the empire's flag (no idea where he got that from) and barry at the end with the drums

[falseflea]

worst post yet ! I need to be shot dead with a gun I think this came to me in a vision when I was losing my mind abroad

[aizhits]

Oat!!! Some spoilers if you don't mind :)

1.

Michael: You are always in trouble when I find you.

2.[continues 1]

Michael: Get up Archivist, it won't end like this.

Not here, not like this.

3.

Michael?: You can't save anyone!!!

Jon: Yes! I CAN!!

4.

Jon?:Oh this is So not about you! Hahahahaha!!!

Michael?: HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!!

[lieutgore]

graham's death scene you will always make me so sad

[asparkleofmuses]

Starter for @hatredcurse

He was sinking, slowly, suffocating, in a black tar-like substance.

As he touched on the bottom of the pit, the tar regressed into the sky, revealing a red moon, without letting any of the pressure off. However, he could move now. He stood and looked around, and then he recognized the place. No.

His right hand started to chirp. Stop.

He ran ahead, his body acting completely independently of his wishes. He couldn't even close his eyes, he could only helplessly look as Rin stepped into the way of his Chidori, getting stabbed through the chest.

"Kakashi" her voice was barely a whisper. He could see every detail in the grievous wound on her body. I'm sorry.

"Kakashi" It increased in volume. Kakashi's body was still not obeying. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

"KAKASHI" The voice became horribly distorted, an angry scream. And then…

Still unable to make his body obey, Kakashi wrenched his hand off and took a step back, shaking. A white, malleable substance engulfed Rin in a cocoon, and then it opened up like a Venus flytrap plant, revealing Obito instead. His hair was long and the teeth of the plant remained around his shoulder. "What have you done, Kakashi?" he recriminated, gaping hole in his chest, and started to fight him. Kakashi fought back. He blinked, and the scene changed.

Kakashi was fighting against Obito in Konoha. The village was in flames, and he could hear roaring in the distance, screams, and the sound of structures collapsing. Obito, now whole and in an ANBU uniform, was pleading with him, telling him to snap out of it, fight it. Kakashi couldn't. Kakashi was completely trapped in his body, a mere witness to the entire thing. He kept attacking, forcing his body to the limit to keep his teammate on the defensive.

In time, the roaring stopped, and the genjutsu holding his body hostage shattered. Kakashi blacked out. He gasped awake after what seemed to be just a few seconds. He was lying on the dirt, a blanket on top of him, and his body felt like lead. He was looking at a canvas ceiling. A tent. Around him, rows of injured ninjas were lying unconscious, or worse.

He couldn't see Obito around him. no… nonono. This, time it wasn't a nightmare, this was real. A jolt of adrenaline ran through his body like electricity. He jumped up in an instant, completely numb to pain and staggered drunkenly out of the tent, gasping, and looking frantically for Obito. They were in the forest around Konoha, and a multitude of Ninja were coming and going, haggard, tired and hurt.

What the hell had happened?. And then it hit him. The Kyuubi. The masked guy. The genjutsu. Fighting Obito against his will.

Sensei... Kushina.

He yelled for Obito at the top of his lungs, redoubling his efforts to find him.

[butch-bakugo]

Why are vetted accounts sending people stuff like this.

I mean it's clearly copy-pasted and sent to multiple people but this isn't even a donations ask. Imma guess the reason people aren't responding is because you're accusing them of not doing enough for Palestine and sending it to multiple people who you clearly don't check because I've been posting about and for Palestine since oct 7th when I learned about it.

Also yes he is looking for donations, you can check his account and find it. Why are you sending this guilt trippy stuff to people and accusing them of not caring enough? You don't know me? You send these to multiple people so your clearly not checking the account in question. This dose nothing to help you personally or the Palestinian cause, it just pisses people off and makes them question vetters.

[zzcorpserosezz]

Protect him 👀

[youcancallmenoob]

PERVERTED GORE UNDER HERE!

OUTLAST TRIALS BABYYYY

SELF INSERT WITH GOOSEBERRY AND COYLE

AND I MEAN GORE

NO HEADIS COOL THo

TW BLOOD, MURDER, BIG LADY, TOESIES

BEHEADING!

un censored on my FA

[preservationofnormalcy]

(Happy Halloween! I'm doing a rare OOC note at the beginning that this one is darker than other interviews, so a content warning for descriptions of gore, body horror, and alcohol/alcoholism.) [I am in the darkly lit reception area of Office Security, known by the rest of the Office as O-Sec. It’s late, and most employees have gone home for the night. Most of the lights are off, but along one wall there is a spot of quiet activity. This wall is covered in neatly ordered brass plates, bearing names and dates. This is a memorial. Plates above some columns list broad date ranges, and others list specific dates or events. One larger section that stands out is labeled ��Operation Deep Whisper”, which seems to have taken place in the 1970s. 

Several people in work clothes are working along one section of the wall, furthest to the right - the most recent. A series of plates, larger and more ornate than the others with a photo attached, are being taken off the wall. One worker takes down the last plate - an african-american woman smiles at me over his shoulder as he does, and I see the name Agent Pearlgate before the plate is slid with the others into a wooden crate.]

K] Damn shame.

M] Security Director Knight?

K] Affirmative.

[I’m not startled by his presence, despite his sudden appearance. A middle aged, tall caucasian man, salt and pepper hair over a simple dress uniform. I know this man has more clearance than most people in the Office, but his clothes are unassuming. An undershirt and tie, a name tag and badge the only things betraying his rank. His stature is tall and proud, confident, but the only thing that would truly stand out in a crowd of military men would be his mask. A strange mask, black and sleek with vents on either side. His voice is not affected by it, a low, gravely, world-weary tone that sounds like it should be coming from the mouth of an action movie star. It’s almost too perfect. Knight nods, then pauses and jerks his head down a dark hallway.

Motion activated lights precede us as we walk down the hallway, Knight’s hands grasped together behind his back. They shut back off as we pass, giving the sense of a spot of light moving through the darkness.] 

K] Heard I was being interrogated. 

[The half-joke is obvious despite his tone, giving me a wry look back over his shoulder.]

M] A couple simple questions, Director. 

K] That’s what they all say. 

M] Including what the “damn shame” was about. Why take down a memorial?

K] I can’t answer that. Directive 61722.

[His tone was serious, and I know better than to pry. We enter his office, and it’s about what I expected - sparsely furnished with serious-minded furniture, plaques and medals adorning the walls, models and weapons mounted on stands sitting on bookshelves. The part of his office that stood out was the lighting. The office was very dark, with only one light on directly above his desk. It’s by that light I was able to make out shapes on the walls. When he sits at the desk, the light reminds me of an interrogation room light, a solid conical beam from the lamp above him, illuminating his arms but leaving his face in shadow. Silently, he pulls a bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk, filling one shot glass and hovering the bottle meaningfully over the second one, looking to me.]

M] Just a sip. 

K] You driving?

M] I’m a lightweight, Director. 

[He relented, pouring a tiny amount into the bottom of the second glass and corking the bottle.] 

K] So…what’re your questions?

M] I’m conducting my observations based on posters I see in my site tours, and I saw yours. The…ontophage one.

K] Nasty little assholes.

M] What?

[He leans back, and in the shadows I can see him pull his mask away from his face, drink, and replace it.]

K] The ‘phages. Nasty little assholes. Feral, mindless as far as we can tell. One of the most annoying things we deal with, and that’s saying something. We lost whole sites to them, before we started scrutinizing a lot of our “lost item” cases. Now it’s just a matter of recon and elimination. Ever seen a shotgun shell loaded with ‘phagebuck? Hell of a thing. 

M] Usually I’d ask what your department does, but I think in this case it’s pretty obvious. 

K] There’s things that go bump in the night, ma’am. And O-Sec bumps back. 

M] I wouldn’t think that many supernatural things could be dealt with like that.

K] Comes with the territory. One of the professors could explain it better, but if you exist in realspace, you take up some of the traits of realspace. Like a vulnerability to bullets.

M] It’s that simple? 

K] Not really ever that simple. Sometimes you have to dress it up a little. Silver bullets, cross-tipped hollow points, phagebuck, tindalosian powder, magebore, chronojacketed rounds. Hell, I’ve done fieldwork in flintlocks. But for the most part… It’s like getting invited to your friend’s house as a kid. Some families take their shoes off at the door, and you have to play along. They come here, something about our reality makes them play along, at least partially. 

[Knight pauses.]

K] We face a lot of different shit, ma’am. Shit I don’t even want to think about. The guys in the button up shirts do a damn fine job with Plan A. Diplomacy, problem solving, the whole deal. Compassion, that’s what the Office is about. But sometimes they need us. We’re here to be Plan B, Plan C if need be.

[I take a small sip of the drink.]

M] I guess that answers a lot of my questions. Every org needs security. I guess it’s just a question of how efficient, and that may be beyond me. My superiors will want to see your records from Los Angeles.

K] That may pose a problem.

M] The Directive.

K] Mm-hmm.

[There’s a moment of heavy silence, and Knight breaks it by leaning on the table.]

K] You wanna know what I think happened?

M] Seems like it might be above my clearance. Not above yours, though. So why is it what you think happened, and not what you know?

[Another pause. I can sense Knight narrowing his eyes.]

K] The names out there. That’s what happened. Omega Hand. Agent Fairweather, Agent Scratch, Agent Pea��th’rest…

[He sighed, putting his glass on the desk. It only now occurred to me that he might have been drinking before. Why else was he here so late? This last glass was only the icing on the cake.]

K] I was supposed to be there, you know. In LA. But I got…I was scared.

M] Of…of what?

K] …1991. On assignment in Alaska. There was this…cult. Necromancy, but they were…organized. We don’t get that a lot. Usually just whackos trying shit in their basement, too suspicious to be organized, but there they were. Threatening a ZU-class normality collapse. Managed a guerilla army one hundred strong, living and arming up in the cold up there. We weren’t…prepared for it. We even had backup from the RCOE guys, but it wasn’t enough. Picked us off one by one, sewed us back together again. My buddy Akers, he…he came back and he had these...knives on his hands…walking on shredded femurs bolted to stilts. I was the only survivor. Almost wasn’t. They brought me to their leader, this…this corpse. Wasn’t even animated. Just a corpse, rotting and bloated and…one of ‘em touched me. My face.

[He reached up to his mask, pulling it free. In the cone of light, I can see his lower face - everything from his nose down is desiccated, rotting. Sewn up skin but bone white teeth, a smell like rot and formaldehyde roiling across the table. I choke on my vomit, and as he speaks again, he slurs from the holes in his cheeks.]

K] Every time I die, I come back. And every time I come back, I leave a little more on the other side. Every damn time there’s less of me. And I got scared.

[He places the mask back on. I am forcing myself not to vomit, unable to look at him. He seems nonchalant, looking at the bottle of alcohol again.]

K] Damndest thing….I can still taste the booze just fine.

[zielemeczennicy]

15th: Kaub

-Click for better quality-

Warning, the complete version below contains gore.

CW: realistic blood, wound.

What's the matter, officer?

Cat got your tongue?

---

Originally this was meant for the 5th prompt, 'officer', but I didn't make it in time. In total this took around 3 days?

by @oh-yas

[fragiledate]

goretober day three: sharp objects

[missr3n3]

saw what appeared to be a teaser for a sequel to happy anniversary on the bird app, so obviously i had to get these last few rotten roots memes out of my system