#on screen cartoon gore //

[b4kuch1n]

ough brain is doing SO bad but sometimes. there are colors

[burgrr-tower-crossover]

The Noise: "OK YOU GOOGLY EYED SANDWICH, WHAT'S YOUR DEAL?! When I expect "chef" I'm expecting my rival! Not some reject from the golf courses!!

"You better have a good excuse while you're here, cuz that was my only bucket of water!"

......

The Noise: "Hello? Aren't you going to speak up, or stand there like a total buffoon-"

"WWAGGHHHH!!!"

The Noise: "Ow, jeez ok! I'll lay off, but you don't have to take my dang head off!"

"Huh, what's that? What are you staring at me?"

The Noise: "... How much money would you give me if I eat this?"

[zonatcannibalism]

thinking about how aangs ligtheartedness and sillyness in the original cartoon were the whole point. beacuse he is ouut of his time, he dosent carry the same traumas, he has hope. this hope leads to doubt- imagining things can be diffrente. there is no doubt without the hope things can change. and the whole point of the show is that aang makes people doubt that they have to be in war, that they cant figth back or become more then their traumas. doubt is the thing imperalist facism (aka the fire nation) fears the most, and aang being silly makes people doubt the way that they live. SO TO REMAKE THE SHOW WITH A "SERIOUS, DARKER TONE" WOUULD BE AN AWFUL IDEA THAT WOULD MAKE THE WHOLE STORY COLLAPSE. IM SO GLAD NOBODY DID THAT. THAT WOULD BE AWFUL.

obligatory likes mean nothing, reblog if you enjoyed this post

[shrineofdolls]

i can’t stay fresh for the both of us

[garyfischy]

i hope the venture bros movie is really bad and the entire venture bros fandom just evaporates after it

[starsfic]

Three Frankie Headcanons

Inspired by this post made by @tomkatonline and this comment made by one of the artists of the game, found here, and a post or two made by @mana-is-lost.

All three have a lack of care for human life and are distilled capitalism.

Cartoon Frankie:

Has the temperament of an angry, very sadistic toddler

Freely swears

Snapped one day and took over the company in 2001- Stan Ellie is the CEO, but they all know who's in charge

Nobody is sure why this cartoon AI is angry and wants people dead, but a lot of weird people tune in to watch the death games, including a lot of wealthy people, so they just shut their mouth.

Got supremely annoyed that the show was losing viewers and driving the company into bankruptcy because it was getting boring- they don't speak for him, he's watching it with popcorn

Stuck in screens, which reduces the amount of things thrown at people at the main company buildings

Can control "Frankie" and vice versa, which increases the amount of things thrown at people at the parkour palace

Likes popping up suddenly and giving people heart attacks

Can't control Other Frankie, thanks to the lack of upkeep on the rarely used robot, and is very annoyed about it, especially since he can block him out at certain points

Delights in calling Henry and driving him mad with ringing phones

Has a weird mixture of hatred/annoyance/fondness for the Contestant because: they saved the show and he understands their adrenaline junkie-fuelled freakiness plus they're willing o earn their keep in between seasons, they burned a multi-million robot and fucked up the 57th season of his favorite show, and they have the potential to be a walking HR lawsuit with their relationship with Other Frankie

"Frankie"

Is smarter than people think, just has issues communicating, and can be reasoned with if he wants to

Can be controlled by Cartoon Frankie and can also take over the cartoon form to communicate

Freely enjoys the blood and gore that the show needs and enjoys his role in creating it.

Was very used to being the star and hates sharing the role

HATES the Contestant- refers to them as a cheater

Doesn't really care about Other Frankie

Enjoys drawing like a little kid- now if the drawings weren't dark and gorey.

Other Frankie

Rarely used until the 57th season- if everyone dies within seconds, what's the need for an announcer? Mainly used as camerapeople before then

Was supposed to be scrapped and recast as the voice on the intercom, but the Contestant's win interfered.

Allowed to exist freely like "Frankie" thanks to the Contestant dragging the show on longer.

Shares the same passion for blood and gore as his other two versions, just more "civil" about it.

Sees "Frankie" as a brat, but it's not his business, as long as "Frankie" kills where the cameras can see

Respects Cartoon Frankie as his boss but hates him as a cockblock

Has a little side game where he blocks Cartoon Frankie from any screen near his space

Bit of a creep thanks to his extra bodies- mainly likes to chill in the same area where the Contestant practices and keeps a laptop there so he can work at the same time

Has a relationship with the Contestant where they're toxic for each other but-

The Contestant and Other Frankie divide paperwork since he has issues holding pens and pencils- he's very jealous of "Frankie"'s ability to draw.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXI)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Wonder Woman! Robin! Impulse! Danny! Dick drawings! Who says that occupational therapy and learning a second language can't be fun?

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

EXTRA TW for: vomiting, panic attacks (this chapter only)

Danny can hold a spoon now. He is unstoppable.

So, when the lady isn’t there to feed him dinner (more mush), one of the not-the-lady nurses gives Danny a tray, and lays a mat over his lap so that he can eat without completely messing up his bedsheets.

Eat he does. Slowly. Maybe a little messily, and it’s kind of embarrassing to have to admit to himself that food definitely spills out of his mouth and onto his lap. The doctor/nurse/medical person, whoever they are, turns on the television, and Danny doesn’t try to ask for the remote. The television only gets something like ten channels, and none of them are cartoons at lunch hour.

So. News it is.

Most of the news follows the same cycle; the weather, sports teams Danny can now recognize the colors of, traffic cameras, and events with long, scrolling text to detail the happenings onscreen. There’s something about dogs? That’s fun. The scientist/nurse/tech, whoever they are, says something in the tone of Aaw, aren’t they cute? as puppies run about and wrestle on screen.

Danny kind of misses Cujo. He picks at his bedsheet, and doesn’t say anything.

The dog program transitions away— there’s a bright banner in its place. Danny’s seen it before: it’s something to the equivalent of Breaking News. It’s usually weather, or crime, or something.

Um. But it’s not that. Danny’s spoon drops, because a ROBOT LADY lights up the screen with a glistening silver suit, not unlike the Ecto-Skeleton his parents used to keep in the basement. Or, well…this one might be more streamlined?

Danny shifts. He can’t help. He’s here, in the hospital. Or. Uh. The space…hospital. His body is very broken.

But there’s a robot lady wrecking a town on Earth.

And Danny can fly.

…Could fly. Could have flown. If he was. Well.

Danny’s not well, and his body aches and his hands don’t work and his legs work even less, but there’s people out there who need help. People who are getting shot at with rays and Danny can fight them, and humans can’t. Danny can help. He—

His core throbs. Danny chokes. He pulls at his chest, trying to find some kind of purchase on his medical gown to tug himself—up?? Out?? He can’t fly right now, but maybe—?

“Whoah, whoah, whoah, abide, abide.”

Danny grits his teeth. “Look!” he snaps, and jams a finger at the television. “There’s—look! There’s a giant robot out there punching buildings!”

“Wacie,” the human protests, but at least turns up the volume so that Danny can see better. “Wacie, þær eart firas þær nou.”

What does that mean?!

Danny hasn’t lifted himself in forever. His legs don’t work, but his arms…might.

He presses his palms down to the mattress. He pushes.

There is a liberated fraction of a second where Danny’s whole weight is on his arms.

—And then he comes crashing back to reality, his elbows snapping back into place. His butt slams back onto the bed and the whole frame jitters.

Danny pants. His arms quake.

The medic completely barrels through Danny’s usually meticulously-kept personal bubble, trying to make sure Danny didn’t dislodge his IV or rip his ligaments and tendons or tear his muscles or. Something. Danny barely notices, barely cares, because someone else blasts onto the television screen in a red bathing suit and gold boots.

And suddenly, both the people on screen are fighting. It’s brilliant. It’s bloody—it’s physical, in the way that flesh and bone and metal must be. Danny’s never seen serious fighting like that before.

And the new woman flies.

Danny stares.

She flies. She fights. She wins—narrowly dodging or displacing lasers with something shiny on her arms, and getting long hair singed in the process. In the end, the robot is tethered down with some kind of shiny metal rope, screaming and kicking all the way.

…Danny barely remembers to choke in air. That's so cool.

The medical person says something reassuring, but Danny’s too tired to listen. He watches this new woman take her applause, floating down on nothing but air to meet the reporter and answer questions. She looks poised. Confident. People clap. People shout things out. People smile. People cheer.

…No one is screaming. No one is running.

There are no ghost hunters in the crowd.

Danny’s exhale is manual. So is his inhale. His heart monitors are making all sorts of funky pictures most likely, but that’s not his business—he watches a woman in armor who flies take off into the sky, free to come and go as she pleases.

It…it hurts. It’s so beautiful and so peaceful and gentle and it hurts so much.

His eyes well up with tears. Why did she get this? This…niceness? Everyone had hated him when he'd tried to help—the teachers, Vlad, the town, his parents. They’d hated him! All he ever wanted to do was help like she did!

What made him so different?! Why was it Danny who got hunted down and shot at? Why was it Danny who got kidnapped and taken hostage?!

Tears burn his eyes like fire. It’s got to be the salt. Danny’s strangled whine turns into a choked off sob before he can catch it. His hand goes to his mouth, but he can’t stifle the noise.

He doesn’t want to. He wants to cry. He thinks he deserves it.

The tears come until he is sobbing, crying, wailing—because WHY WHY WHY was it so easy to hurt him?! WHY DID THEY HURT HIM, WHY DID MOM HURT HIM, HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG!

A towel appears in his hand. They’re so nice to him here. So much nicer than when Mom and Dad had—

Danny’s cries are as much screams as they are anything else.

There are hands on his shoulder. On his back. Rubbing. Danny wants to shove them off but the lady isn’t here, which means that it’s one of the staff-members who isn’t supposed to touch him. They’re not supposed to touch him in case Danny hurts them but one of them gave Danny a clean towel to scream into and is rubbing his back because he’s crying.

They’re trying to be so nice and gentle but EVERYONE JUST WANTS TO HURT HIM.

They’re smart, though. They notice before Danny does, and have a bucket ready by the time heaving sobs turn into outright vomiting.

At least the mush mostly makes it into the bucket.

*

…So.

Having a breakdown…sucks.

Danny has to carefully brush his teeth with an extra-soft bristle brush and rinse out his mouth before he gets more water.

Someone is being very nice. There’s artificial fruit punch flavoring in his drink. He wants to feel grateful but he mostly feels dead.

…His eyes slide listlessly across the room. Ha. Dead.

Danny is horizontal and wrung dry and too tired to do anything but pant by the time the lady comes back to his room. She’s in quicker than usual—her gown is sort of sloppy, hair sticking out of her hair net, and she’s still looping her mask around her ear.

She gets down on her knees beside his bed. She asks him if he’s alright.

Danny’s not alright. He isn’t sure he’s been alright in…ages. Ages and ages. Before he was trapped and tied down. Before he was hated. Reviled.

…Before he was Phantom, maybe; before Danny Fenton had died a shocking, senseless death.

Tears try to wring themselves out of his aching eyeballs, but he’s too dry-eyed to cry; the lady make sad, wet eyes for him, and that’s probably enough between the two of them. Danny’s misery is a vast, gaping void, and all he has to show for it is the shovel he’s been digging through all this shit with for the last few years.

The lady brings her hands closer to his hairline, curled fingers hovering in the air. Her word’s don’t mean anything to him, but the gesture is clear: May I?

“…Mm,” Danny agrees. His eyes fall closed when she gently scratches at his scalp with her fingers.

No one’s touched him gently, on purpose, in…ages. When he was little, Dad used to pop him between him and Mom in bed. Mom would brush out Danny’s bangs with her fingers and Dad would hum. It was always something ill-fitting and silly. Guns N’ Roses. Led Zepplin. Santana. Sometimes Jazz would sit with them, crushing him until Dad had to pull him up and out of harm’s way.

In the quarantine lab, hurting him had just been part of the scientific process. What if there was some new discovery under his fat layer? On the other side of his ribs? Nestled between his alveoli?

Danny sniffles. He’s too dry to cry. He blinks invisible dust off of his eyelashes, and focuses on the weird lady who’s with him now.

Up close, when his eyes work, she looks nice. She has blue eyes, like him. Like Dad. They’re kinda…glowy, maybe? Sparkly? They remind him of ice in the Far Frozen—inhumanly brisk, and impossibly clean. She has eye crinkles where she smiles, tan skin making them more defined than their actual depth. Between her hair net and her medical mask, little wisps of black baby hairs shine through.

She pets him. She smiles. Danny isn’t sure why, but. Whatever. Jazz used to insist that human skin-to-skin contact was an essential need, so this is probably, like, also medical care.

Yeah. Danny squints. …Sure.

Whatever. It’s nice.

So Danny gets petted and it’s fine. He almost doesn’t notice the giant gauntlet under the paper sleeve of her gown, but then it’s right in his field of vision, and. Hey. Didn’t he see that on TV, like, an hour ago?

Danny stares.

He can’t actually tell if they’re gold under the pale blue color of the gown, but. The color is certainly some sort of unusually colored metal, cold to the touch even through the paper-like material of the gown.

…He doesn’t want to touch her, or let her know that he’s touching her. But. He brushes the back of his wrist against the bracelet, and it hums against the paper gown between it and his bare skin.

The lady blinks. She looks down at where they made contact, and asks him if he’s alright.

Danny looks away.

She knows she saw him reach out to her, though, so she takes her hand off of his hair (…hey…) and pulls back the sleeve on her gown. “Sest,” she offers. See?

It is the same kind of bracer he saw on TV. Up close he can see the designed etched into it—geometric lines stretching down from her fingers to her elbow, terminating in something structural. Not quite diamonds. Just…strong.

There’s a couple of very, very tiny letters down towards the bottom. His eyes strain when they try to make any sense out of them; they’re too small for him to actually focus on, which sucks.

She steps back, and pushes her sleeves down to show off her gold bracers. She lifts up the hem of her gown, revealing red boots that go waaaay up her thigh. They have the same gold metalwork as she does on the bracers.

Danny just saw those on the television. His eyes widen.

“You—“ he starts, and then remembers their difference in language. He points his hand at the television. “You fought? You were on TV?”

“Hwæt?”

“The TV?” Danny repeats. She doesn’t understand. Danny doesn’t know how to tell her what he means. “The…you were there?”

She looks at him to expand. Danny looks back at her.

…So they just stare at each other silently.

The door cracks open; the person who’d mediated Danny’s breakdown pokes their head in and says something. “Eower feoht wæs an þe box todæge.”

The lady blinks. Danny blinks. Wait. Did they just call the television the box?

“…Box?” Danny clarifies, and lifts a hand to shakily point at the television again.

The lady blinks, and grins. “Yea!” she returns, pumped up. She stands, to the powerful height she’d had on the television—excuse him, the box—and flexes her now-exposed arms to show off massive biceps.

Holy moly. Danny hasn’t seen any bigger biceps on his Dad.

She flexes one arm, the other, both—in front, and behind. If Danny had that much definition, he’d be showing off too! She leaps back impossibly far—and holy crap she can fly— to show off some mock punches at invisible enemies at speeds that Danny would be hard pressed to follow even with supernatural abilities.

He goggles.

She laughs at him, but she doesn’t sound mean—she sounds show-boating and silly, and teasing and playful, but not mean.

She’s like him. She’s not a ghost but she flies and she’s not human. She’s not human just like Danny. Just like that one green guy. Like the fast kid who visits him.

It’s such a relief. It’s so scary. Who are these people? Why are they healing him? Why are they keeping him?? Why do they have access to so many non-human people? What do they want him for? Is Danny supposed to fight like that?

He would fight. If he had to. He’s done it before.

If they make him fight, Danny’s pretty sure he’s going to fall apart like cheap glass.

The lady comes back when Danny goes quiet, her gloved fingers brushing up against his knuckles. The sensation is enough to bring Danny out of his…fog. Sometimes everything is so cloudy and vague. The pain medicine makes it go away, and the pain medicine brings it back.

Danny curls his hand into a shaking fist. He bumps her knuckles against his.

She makes a surprised noise. Danny feels her gently move his fingers, rearranging, moving where his thumb goes—

He huffs out a laugh. His fist wasn’t good enough to her standards. Her fist bump meets his in the middle with a smirk and a laugh, victory written all over her face.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 2: Too scary - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse  x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of scary movies, trauma, blood, gore, etc. Nothing too graphic

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Turns out the movie was too terrifying for little Y/N to handle, therefore it’s their job to comfort you.

Notes: Let’s see how long I can keep this up.

Jason Voorhees: At first he wouldn’t notice, mostly focused on the movie and the candy he’s stuffing his face with. When you’d shuffle around, when he’d notice the constant movement, then he’d take a look at you only to find you with your knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It’d take a moment for him to register that your stomach was turning at the imagery. Once he would, Jason would instantly coop you up into his arms and keep you in a tiny ball, doing his best to protect you from your thoughts.

Michael Myers: He can smell fear, he’s always been exposed to fear all around him, it’s like second nature to him. When he realizes you’re afraid of the movie, he turns over to stare at you for a moment, which makes you even more uneasy. Thinking Michael looks at you like you’re a big baby, you decide to just cross your arms and brave through the rest of the film. Of course, failing miserably. Michael would force you into his arms, letting you kind of flop into his arms and situate yourself however you wanted. 

Tiffany Valentine: She loves horror movies, it’s one of the things that could keep her occupied. While your stomach twists at the imagery and blood splatter on the screen, Tiffany seems mesmerized by it, not paying much attention to your squeamish reaction. Once you’re both done with the movie, she’d turn to you asking “So, how’d you like it?” Only to see you near traumatized. “Y/N!” Tiffany would wrap her arms around your face and bring you into her chest, pressing you into a hug. “Was that too scary? Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Of course she’d make it up to you, with much affection and endearment.

Billy Loomis: Doesn’t even notice at first how uncomfortable you are, no matter how much you nuzzle into him. A few flinches in, he’d look down to you to make sure you were awake, but to see you near in tears would cause him to stop the movie. “Y/N? You okay? We can stop watching this, I just thought you’d like to see it with me.” He knew better than to keep it playing when you’d tell him you were fine. “No, I mean, it’s kinda lame anyway, here’s the remote, find something better. I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Then he’d come back, lay into the arm rest and bring you down with him, making sure you were cuddled into the blanket on the couch.

Stu Macher: What a dumbass, he wouldn’t really notice at all if you were crying or looking away from the screen too much. He’s “in the moment” with the gory scenes. After the movie, Stu would ask you how you’d like it only to see hot tears streaming down your cheeks. He’d laugh a little bit at how scared you looked, but then would give you the tightest hug. Stu would hold you tightly enough to give you some troubles breathing regularly, letting you put on some cartoons to forget the imagery. Will this happen again? Absolutely.

Patrick Bateman: Ok, he’s probably the worst of them all. Patrick watches snuff films and all kinds of gruesome films for fun. When you brought it up to his attention, he was more than happy to show you what he liked and explain to you the different methods of torture and what part inflicted the most pain. Even if you’d throw up, Patrick would keep the film going, mesmerized by the screams telling you “It’s actually not that bad.” But he’d let you hide into his arm, clenching onto it as you did so, but there was no way to hide from the terrorizing screams and Patrick's chuckle throughout it.

Leatherface: Honestly always checking up on you through every scene. Bubba doesn’t even want you to watch the scary films, he would think you were too pure for them, ironically. If you insisted though, he’d let you, holding you close to him and giving you space to hide if you needed to look away, which seemed to be often. Bubba would be ready to turn off the screen at any moment, one arm wrapped around you and the other one with the finger on the off button. He too would let you watch cartoons with him after. Bubba would offer you your favorite junk food or candy and let you snuggle into him while you laugh at the new pictures on the screen.

Harley Quinn: Is SUPER into horror. Laughs at the screams and blood splatter “Y/N! Y/N! Did ya see that? Did ya see it?! Let me rewind it.” Harleys a bit clueless when it comes to seeing your discomfort at first, but then when she notices you keep flinching or looking away, her expression immediately changes. “Oh my god Y/N? Are you afraid of this? You shoulda said something pumpkin’!” Immediately cuddles you and keeps you close to her chest, changing the channel to a Disney movie. Harley would be THE best at comforting you, squeezing the near life out of you to keep you comfortable and your mind off of things. Lots of comfort food, honestly.

Poison Ivy: Isn’t necessarily obsessed with horror movies and gore, not very interested in it either but she doesn’t mind playing the exorcist for background noise. If you’re not obviously telling her that you’re scared or you want to play something else, she would pick up on how you would react. Flinching at certain moments in the movie, looking away from the screen constantly, all things Pamela would notice, putting two and two together, she’d turn off the TV, telling you simply “What a trashy movie, let’s go play.” And would lead you into the bedroom for some TLC. Pamela’s love language would be physical touch and she would make sure you would get enough of it to fall asleep to. She’d make a mental note to stay away from horror movies with you.

Bruce Wayne: Never was really big with horror movies to begin with. Bruce grew up with musicals and operas, he was cultured in filmmaking, but horror never really made a mark in his interests, mainly because of the real life horrors he had to face already. Of course Bruce picks up on everything, noticing your reluctance in watching any more of this movie, he decides to nuzzle you into him, not saying a word and changing the channel, or taking your hand to lead you out of the theater. After all, Bruce knew what it felt like to be afraid. Expect a ton of tender touches and soft kisses.

Jason Todd: Sweetest energy tbh. Whether your watching a scary movie as a group or together, his reaction would be similar in both scenarios. As soon as he’d feel your palm in a cold sweat he’d look for your reaction, even if you try to brave through it, Jason would pull your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. ‘What a bullshit ass movie.” He’d mumble while subconsciously caressing the back of your head. “You’re being brave dollface, but you don’t have to be.” He’d whisper to you and give you a squeeze. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Billy Hargrove: Notices instantly, but wouldn’t want to call you out on it. Instead he would also pull a stunt like Pamela. Telling you “This is kinda tacky, let’s leave.” And would lead you out of the movie theater, turn off the TV or leave whatever house party you were at. He’d make sure to never let you go, holding your hand, keeping his arm around your waist as usual, always being protective of you. Billy would make you feel safe enough to tell him what happened and what was wrong and why. He’d actually listen to you, being quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in, then comfort you by telling you “That’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about,  I had a few movies that scared the daylights out of me, but you know I’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”

Steve Harrington: Knows from the start that you don’t like horror movies, he doesn’t either but he can stomach a lot more than you can. Steve was kind of taken a back when you insisted that it would be fine to have a movie night with your friends even though they planned a horror marathon. When the kill scenes would get severely worse as the movie progresses, you’d get more uncomfortable and at this point it seemed like an unspoken competition to see who could stomach more gore, you or Steve. Still, when you’d take a nap, shifting and shuffling around in the blankets, he’d know the movie maybe actually got to you. Steve would hug you tightly, caress your face when you’d drift in and out of sleep. 

Steve Rogers: Would be such a big time caregiver energy. When you’d hide your face away in certain scenes, Steve would notice instantly, hugging you closely through the scene. If you kept showing discomfort, Steve would take you from the room, not offering an explanation to anyone. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go do something else” He never really understood the concept or horror movies, nor the appeal, so it wasn’t like he was missing out on anything. Steve would pick you up, letting you hide into his chest or his neck. He’d kiss your head, cheek and neck constantly, slow and full of love. “Come on angel, let’s watch something else.” He’d turn on the TV letting you chose any cartoon movie you’d be in the mood to watch.

Bucky Barnes: Also with Steve energy, he’d let you hide into him. He kind of understood the concept of the horror movies, even liked a couple but not to the extent those around you  both would like. His heart melts when he sees you pout and avoiding looking at the screen. Closing your eyes waiting for the screaming to stop, Bucky would want nothing more than to reach over and pull you onto him, letting you hide into him and tell you everything was okay and it was only a movie. When the movie would be over, he’d check up on you, making sure you weren’t still thinking of it, which more than likely you were and he wouldn’t hesitate to spend the night with you, letting you curl into his body, being three times your size and keeping you safe from whatever horror you saw today.

Wanda Maximoff: She would notice it the second scene in, the minute you hesitated to agree on a horror marathon with the team, she knew maybe you were a little bit more of a baby than she initially thought. She’d play it off with you as well, telling the team the movie seemed boring and that she just wanted to go to bed, she was tired. When the others would dismiss her, not paying much attention, she would look at you, who stayed sitting in silence. “Y/N? Are you okay? You keep nodding off, come join me, let’s get you to bed.” Wanda would be your saving grace and of course she would let you sleep in her bed, keeping you comfortable and safe in her pillow fortress and arms.

Loki Laufeyson: He’d always notice any sort of discomfort in you, knowing that you weren’t able to stomach much of the gory scenes but a part of him wanted to see how much you were able to handle. Loki would sit where he was able to look at you with just a flicker of his eyelids in your direction. When you’d all have a movie night, Loki would be the one to agree to watch something gruesome just to see you squirm in your seat. When it would be too much to handle for you and you’d have to excuse yourself, Loki would come to your aid when he would pass by your room to see you sitting on the corner, hugging yourself trying to erase the imagery out of your head by watching your favorite comfort films. “Y/N? How are you doing?”

Cloud Strife: He’s not very fazed by horror movies or anything of that sort, but if he feels you hide against him again throughout the movie, he would let you. He’d hesitate to put his arm around you, but if you snuggle into it, he’d squeeze you in. Because this seemed to be very unlike Cloud, snuggling into his torso would be the most comforting thing. Cloud would let you sleep with him if you admitted you were scared, letting you snuggle in under the covers with him, he’d drape an arm over you and keep you close as you drifted off to sleep.

Aerith Gainsborough: Not terribly interested in horror movies, but would watch a few just to spend some time. Aerith has quite the strong stomach compared to you and the rest of your friends. She could sit there and watch a full marathon with you guys no problem, but if you couldn’t handle it, she’d understand and take a walk with you, picking flowers for you on the sidewalk as she would try to distract you from the imagery from before. Her smile surely would help, Aerith would be the perfect person to comfort you for something that seems as silly as a horror movie.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’d seen it all, fear is not something he was very familiar in feeling, but he knew it came as second nature to the human species. If you were afraid of a movie or show, he’d find it amusing to see you worked up over false imagery when he had seen much worse, all real as well. Sebastian would still excel in his duty to comfort you, assuring you there was nothing to fear, since he would never let anything hurt you. Being cared for by him in this way did help, you knew he meant it and it was silly for you to worry about anything that was plastered across a screen.

Spencer Reid: Would be so wholesome, he had seen so much gruesome scenes, often inspiring many of the plots of movies you two were watching, but he knew to spare you the details. When Spencer heard you wanted to see a horror movie with him, he was surprised, letting you decide which one, but when it was too much for you, he knew right when to stop it and ask you if you were okay, not wanting to have you get nightmares for the next week straight. Spencer would soothe you, holding you close to him, letting you lay down onto him and snuggle under a blanket. He’d play something more wholesome, maybe a Disney classic in the background or some sort of comedy to keep your mind off the previous imagery. 

[mar64ds]

I disagree when people say that if there was a new Sam&Max show it should be exclusively for adults and air on Adult Swim, i think you are really missing the point of what makes Sam&Max work. Should it be more aimed at an older audience? Sure! But i feel like some people think that Sam&Max would be funnier if they showed a lot of blood and cursed and made very adult jokes, and like, that's not Sam&Max

Sam&Max has a good balance of being your typical saturday morning cartoon characters and adding a bit of a more adult dialogue and elements to it, while still coming off as incredibly absurd and childish. Max can talk about ripping someone's guts, but that never shows up on screen, because it's funnier to have a cute little rabbit talk about ripping someone's guts than to show gore on screen. Sam can use big words that kids are probably not going to understand, but then Max would mock him for using those big words. Sam and Max can be put through horrifying situations that are probably not super family friendly (The Devil's Playhouse for example) but they all end up being super silly anyway as well. And overall Sam&Max doesn't really have that much of adult jokes. So really I don't know what you want from them, you can watch any other adult cartoon in existence, but Sam&Max are Sam&Max and that really works for a reason

[crymzin-gutz]

ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴸⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵀᵒᵒⁿ.

(Cholly x Reader)

Cholly belongs to @heartfullofleeches

Tw: Slight body horror. Slight gore/blood descriptions. Suicide attempt (failed) by reader towards the end of the story.

October was becoming comfortable. Settling over the world, it chills the winds and turns the leaves into varying shades of oranges, reds, and browns, as they fall dead to the ground. The cold before the plague of winter.

You draped your body across the three seat cushions of your well-loved, and used, orange-brown couch. A hand rested on your stomach, lazily holding the remote, and the other hangs off of the side of the couch, your fingertips just barely touching the cold wooden panels of your flooring. Floors that needed to be swept- but that was a chore for another day. Today you didn’t plan on doing anything, it was your ‘binge-and-be lazy’ day; to do anything today would be sacrilegious. You didn’t have any plans, except to binge watch the many old horror films that were being ran on cable; and maybe if you felt like it, you’d cook dinner tonight. Though- ordering a pizza or two was always an appetizing option.

A black and white film was currently being played out on your television. Some old zombie flick. You hadn’t really been paying much attention when the title of the movie had been shown a while ago. Screams, panic, and mayhem being enacted on the screen for your entertainment. People being attacked and eaten, with blocky captions being typed out at the bottom of your screen. The captioning of ‘`Screams`’ was something you found slightly comedic. Seeming so bored and monotone when in comparison to the cheesy horror being played. Adding that special touch that just made it all that more entertaining.

The TV wasn’t up loud enough for you to miss the sound of someone creeping up behind you. The person’s (you still can’t tell if that adjective works for them, with them not really being a ‘person’  in the first place.) instinctual need to add music behind their attempt to be sneaky didn’t help them any. “Dudh dudh. Dudh dudh. Dudh dudh dudh.” Cholly audibly hums out, voice growing louder the closer they got. It was cute. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing and giving them away further. You didn’t want to spoil their fun. Afterall, you’ve grown quite fond of the living cartoon rabbit ever since they jumped out of your TV screen a year ago.

You kept your eyes focused on the gory scene -well as gory as a black and white film can be- being shown, while you listened to Cholly sneak up closer and closer behind you. You could just faintly make out the reflection of his fluffy long brown ears peeking over the couch on the television screen. They had gone quiet- which couldn’t mean anything good. The sounds of the movie quickly dominated the air. You were about to ask them what they were up to, when one of the human characters got attacked by one of the zombies in the movie. You were caught off guard, your attention having been focused on Cholly, you had stopped paying any real attention to the movie. Her painful screams cause you to flinch. Your body jumping upwards into a tense sitting position, your attention being forced back on the movie. And turning a blind eye to Cholly in the process. Giving them the perfect opportunity to strike.

As your attention is focused back onto the movie, wide eyes trained on the attack taking place, Cholly springs up from behind the couch like a jack-in-the-box. It all happened so quickly. One moment you were seeing his reflection pop up behind you, the next there was a burning pain shooting up your neck. A scream tears harshly from your throat as you jerk yourself forward, trying to escape whatever was hurting you. You hadn’t had the chance to process what had caused you pain. Not before the culprit was sobbing out terrified apologies.

“ Oh god! I-...I didn’t mean to, Sweets! Promise ya I didn’t!” Cholly blabbers out in wet sobs.

Rushing around the couch so they could face you. The look on Cholly’s face was one of pure dismay. The toon stood before you like a sinner before judgment. They're wearing a stereotypical and rather cartoon-ish looking vampire costume. The fur around their mouth is slightly damp, and it’s not because of the tears that are streaming down their cheeks. It’s wet with something darker. Their two front teeth are bloodied. They’re desperately wiping at their face, trying to clean themselves of their sin. 

They look like they want to come closer, with how they nervously reach out towards you before pulling their paw back to their side. Their whole body shaking with their despair over the damage they have caused. Their long brown ears drooped and hung limply. You were surprised that there wasn’t a rain cloud brewing above their head. Gingerly you reach up to touch at where the pain was coming from. Cholly rushes forward with a pained sound of their own when you hiss sharply and quickly pull your hand away. Your fingers coming away warm and wet. You were bleeding, and you were bleeding a lot. Which explains the mess around Cholly’s mouth.

“I didn’t mean to bite you that hard.” Cholly whimpers. “I really didn’t! I’d never EVER dream of hurting you. It was just supposed to be a joke! A light nibble is all.” They desperately try to explain themselves as they fret over you. Not touching you. No, they were too afraid to accidentally cause you anymore harm.

You swallow the knot that had tied itself in your throat. “It’s…It’s fine, Cholly. Accidents happen.” You reassure them, giving them a tight lipped smile. “I have a first aids kit in the bathroom, do you mind getting it for me?”

Cholly is quick to rush off. Quick to try and make amends for their mistake. Their betrayal. You watch them rush off like the devil was on their heels, keeping a hand pressed to the side of your neck no matter how much it stung to touch. You couldn’t help but feel nauseous as you felt your blood run down the curve of your neck. Your stomach twisting itself up, as an uneasy feeling of dread slowly seeps into your gut.

The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the chopping block as it slices through the potatoes you plan on using in your lunch stew fills your ears as your brain wanders. Thoughts drifting as you slide the chopped potatoes into the pot of water and start working on the next one. It has been about a week, give or take, since Cholly had bitten you. It was an accident, and you had already forgiven the rabbit that same day. The bite had looked worse than it was, it bleed far more than necessary for a surface level wound. Sure, it was one nasty bite. Their teeth had managed to break through a few layers of skin, but it wasn’t anything serious. At worst, it’ll leave a scar after the injury has healed. Atleast- that is what you had originally thought while Cholly had helped you bandage your neck, having insisted that they were to be the one to do it. 

You can’t say that you believe that anymore. Not after these past few days.

It had taken a bit for you to notice any difference. Having started small at first, it was subtle. Changes that hadn’t gone unnoticed, but just didn’t seem important enough for you to really pay any mind to them. Why would you? It’s not like a sudden increase of energy was all that worrisome. Everyone has days where they are more energetic than the one prior. You had actually enjoyed it the first day or two, when you were able to get your chores done easier and faster. It was nice when things that used to take up so much of your energy, didn’t even seem to drain you a little bit anymore. You were able to do so much. You even started on some hobbies that you’ve never had the time or energy to get around to. 

You enjoyed the increase of energy. That is until you could no longer stop. You started waking up feeling as if you had taken shots of espresso in your sleep. You’d wake up restless and wired, itching to get up and do something. And that’s only if you were able to fall asleep the night before. You’ve been struggling with sleep, you could hardly sleep nowadays and yet you aren’t tired. Not even a little bit. Instead there is a constant restless buzz in your bones. It’s an invader in your body that you can’t seem to exercise. You can’t seem to escape from it. It won’t. Leave. You. Alone.

It’s not like you were foaming at the mouth, or losing control of your limbs. No, nothing that sensible. You just couldn’t stop. You just… you constantly needed to be going. You were becoming an unstoppable force that not even you could control anymore. Your body wasn’t yours to control anymore, it was not yours to puppeteer around. Your fingers tapped on surfaces on their own accord, drumming out the beat of a song you did not know. Your body sways back and forth, to and for on your heels if you dare to stand in one place for any longer than a minute.

Your brain was constantly moving at the speed of a freight train. Thoughts passing by in a blur, so fast you could only catch glimpses of what your brain was trying to say to you. Your thoughts were screaming in your ears, coming together in a blur of noise that you could no longer make heads or tails of. You could not understand your own brain anymore. It was losing you and you were losing it.

You can feel it now. There’s an itch at the back of your brain that never stops scratching. It’s an itch that tells you that something is wrong with you. In you. There’s something different about you, something that is changing about you that you can’t stop. You can feel it messing around in your body. Changing things that aren’t meant to be changed. You know it’s there. Your brain is warning you, begging you to take notice and do something! But you can’t do anything because you don’t know what it is- “Fuck!” You jerk your hand away, dropping the knife as it clatters on to the tiled kitchen floor. You look down in horror at the finger you had just cut down upon. You had felt the knife slam down on it with enough force to cut halfway through it.

Your finger didn’t even have a nick.

“Doll!” 

You can hear Cholly on the other side of the door. Their knuckles desperately beating on wood. 

“Come on, please, Doll! Just open the door! We can figure this out together.”

You can hear them, though their voice sounds distant. Not just in the way of the locked bathroom door separating you two. But in the way that though these ears hear the words being spoken, by the time they reach your brain they’ve become submerged in water.

Staring at the person staring back at you in the mirror, tears blur your vision but the image of them is burnt into your mind. You couldn’t possibly forget what they looked like, not when their features have been haunting you for days. Maybe it’s the fur, you numbly ponder, which has their words seeming muffled.  You reach up with one hand, and grab hold of one of the rabbit-like ears by the base, and give it an experimental tug. Flinching at the dull ache that comes with it. They’re real. You know, yet you can’t help but to constantly check. You desperately hope for it not to be, for this all to be some fever dream that you just can’t seem to wake up from. A laugh tumbles out from your lips like broken glass, because of course you can’t wake up. No, no. That would be ridiculous, as this isn’t a dream. No, this is your reality. It has been for awhile now, slowly unfolding before you. Slow enough for you to watch it happening bit by bit, but too fast for you to stop it.

The bathroom door shakes as Cholly rams his body against it. Trying to get in to stop you. Your eyes drift over to the door, watching as it shakes with every slam of Cholly’s body against it. The doorknob rattles. “[Censor beep]! JUST OPEN THE DOOR!” The gun feels heavy in your hand, and your hand trembles as you hold it up to your temple. You don’t want to die. Atleast, you don't think you do. You don’t really know. You don’t know a lot of late, you don’t even know yourself. How can you when you’re not even sure you are yourself anymore? Can you still be yourself when so much has changed? Are you still yourself if you are a character of who you used to be?

You don’t know.

You don’t know. You don’t know. You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! YoU Don’T KnOW! You dOn’T KNow! YOu DoN’t KNoW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW!  YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE ANYMORE!

Click. Bang!

The gun goes off.

Cholly screams your name. 

The bathroom door breaks, wood splintering as it breaks off of its hinges. 

You blink, tears stopping, and you lower the gun from your head, and you look down at it. 

Sticking out of the barrel is a white flag, and written in big, black, bold letters is the word ‘BANG!’. It was almost comedic.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Death Wont Do - Jason Todd x Reader

TW: blood & gore & angst

a little more dramatic and descriptive than my usual style, let me know what you think

~~~

It's like a 6th sense. The quietest feeling that something's wrong. The feeling in your stomach that keeps you up just a little later than normal.

You were sat on the couch of your apartment, mindlessly checking your phone as some song hummed softly in the background, a glass of something bubbly on the side table next to you to fill the void of Jason being out on patrol. You knew he'd come back later than you usually stayed up, but you felt like waiting for a goodnight kiss.

And suddenly you got the text:

It's Tim on J's phone, get to cave asap if you're reading this.

A pit formed in your stomach as you rushed to grab your keys. A few minutes drive and 10 missed calls as you frantically dialed Tim and Jason before realizing it was serious enough neither was responding.

You braced yourself for what you'd walk into: blood, pain, panic, but the cave was empty. Confusion bubbled up against the fear, hoping between clenched teeth for a prank or a lighthearted surprise. Nonetheless, your instincts urged you to prepare for the worst.

You pulled out the medbay: stitching supplies at the ready, stretcher wheels unlocked, bandages organized just the way Alfred had taught you- where was Alfred? Where was Bruce or Damian- even Jon or Conner who were frequently watching some sort of cartoon on the giant screen in the cave at this time.

Cass was the first in the cave, you recognized the rev of her bike, rushing to the entrance. Her suit was torn, deep gashes that stung you just by looking at them. She pulled off her mask with a wince, an expression you weren't used to seeing on her typical stoic face. You were her shadow as she sat herself down at your faux-medbay and began cleaning and stitching her own wounds, she wouldn't want to be touched right now and from your assessment she was more than capable in her condition.

You broke the steady silence: "is it- is everyone? What happened out there Cass?" knowing she wouldn't really respond you took her shaking her head as a gutwrenching response.

And for what might've been the first time in your life, you saw her whipser "bad" as she locked eyes with you.

Before you could process just what that meant, the quiet hum of the batmobile ripped you from your dread and into action. You heard an echoing shout as Damian lept from the passenger seat of the still moving car, almost flying towards you as the batmobile came to a screeching halt.

"It's Todd, it's not good. Quickly." were the few words the boy wonder could mutter as he started pulling the stretcher towards the car. You followed silently, blood already pounding in your ears.

The door of the car opened and you saw Jason draped across the backseat, muttering and groaning as Damian began to drag him onto the stretcher.

You froze at the sight, bones jutted up out of his skin like a brutal landscape of fractures. His skin, paler than ever before, appeared as if it had lost all its color, like it had bled out completely. Like a corpse in a movie, where CGI created almost inhumane wounds, Jason bore them right in front of you.

Tim's car door slamming ripped you from your shock. He rounded the car instantly and began helping Damian gently move Jason to the cot. While Cass and Damian were silent in a panic, Tim couldn't help but talk through his terror:

"It's all over, well pretty much over. Bruce and the rest are out cleaning it up but he told us to get Jay home because well, I mean he hasn't look worse since probably his first death. And I really don't want to be here for his second. Dames, pull I'll push, God he's heavy, alright, Y/N lock the wheels Damian grab start cleaning wounds on his legs I'll take torso- Y/N? Lock the damn wheels."

Again you snapped into reality, realizing you'd trailed behind the bloody precession. You lowered yourself to secure the wheels, the cool air providing a momentary relief as the weight of the situation settled in. You thought about staying down there, curling up beneath the cot and waiting until the nightmare was over. Tim and Damian were a well oiled triage machine above you- calling out stitching plans, applying bandages, preparing casts for the breaks.

And for the first time, Jason called out softly for you, "Y/N?" You shot up, immediately at his side, pushing the sweat and blood matted hair away from his eyes. They were closed, furrowed in agony but he still called for you, "where's Y/N? I need to see-"

"I'm here, I'm right here Jace." your voice wavering, but he got more frantic, shaking and groaning as Tim and Damian began to restrain him. "No! I need to see her! Stop, take me home! She lives at-"

"Jace I'm right here, I'm here, can you look at me?" your voice was pitchy and raw as you cupped his cheek in your hand. As you lightly pressed your finger to his temple his eyes shot open and wildly took in his surroundings before landing on you. Like an exhale he sunk back into the stretcher, eyes fluttering shut once again.

Beneath his closed eyelids, the pain etched deep lines on his face, but Tim soldiered on, having forced Damian to go tend to his own wounds. The silence was painful, but you had to ask, "he's gonna be okay right?"

Tim's eyes flashed up to meet yours with a kind of smile, "this big guy's been dipped in the Lazarus pit. It's gonna take more than some broken bones and a few lost pints of blood to kill him. Here, come bandage his arms, it's better than staring at his ugly face." you felt a small smile bubble up, Jason's face was bruised and his nose slightly crooked, but you appreciated the quip.

"Here, clean, apply gauze, and wrap. These are all superficial so I promise you can't mess anything up." he pushed bandaging materials into your shaking hands. At first you could barely move, but soon it felt soothing to lend a helping hand. Tim was focused and quiet, and you slowly worked your way up each of Jason's arms, carely wrapping any tear in his skin you could find.

Tim suddenly stepped back with a deep and satified sigh, heading towards the medicine pantry. He came back with an IV and softly nudged your shoulder, "he'll be okay, gonna give him fluids and enough of a sedative to knock him out for a few hours. Go wash off, eat something, and come on back to trade my shift watching him."

You nodded, looking down to realize you were also now covered in a layer of sweat and blood. "Tim, he would've died without you, you're incredible. I'll be right back." you couldn't exactly find the words for the gratitude, but Tim shook it off nonetheless.

"I had to stay in the 'zero Jason deaths' club, Bruce and Dick would've had a field day." you shook your head, beelining for a shower.

When you came back down to the cave Tim was in a tshirt and sweatpants, his own bandages peeking from the sleeves of the shirt. "Ready for a shift change?" you called, causing him to swivel around in the batcave chair and stand up with a stretch.

"You were fast! He'll probably wake up in a few hours, text me whenever for whatever." with a yawn he shuffled out of the cave and you planted yourself in the chair next to Jason.

You nearly screamed as Jason suddenly whispered "is he gone?" Like a cartoon he opened one squinting eye before deciding to fully lock his emerald eyes with your own. "Coast is clear, how are you love?"

You were stunned, "I- you were- how are you? I mean I'm fine, clearly. But what in the-" Jason laughed into a wince but answered:

"Had a couple crazy dreams, I woke up when I heard you call for Tim but wanted the shift change so Tim didn't spend 20 minutes calling me an idiot and a careless maniac.

You shook your head, "and if I call you an idiot and a careless maniac?" but Jason just hummed and attempted to shrug. "Jason Peter Todd you almost died!"

"Keyword there is 'almost' sweetheart."

"And what if Tim and Damian weren't there? What if you'd actually died?" you cupped his cheek again, letting the weight of his head rest into your palm.

"Not even death would stop me from crawling home to you." he vowed. At that, you sunk down, resting your head on his shoulder and lightly running your hand across his chest.

"I believe you, I do. But tell me you'll never let it get to that. This was too much for me Jace I almost thought you were dead when they pulled you out of the car."

He tensed, "you were here for all that? I'm sorry, I don't want to scare you like that." You couldn't believe the man on his deathbed was apologizing to you, but somehow it all felt very Jason Todd.

"It's okay Jay, I'm just glad you're here."

"Always, now scoot me over so I can hold you," he murmered, groaning as he pushed himself over enough to make room for you to slip in next to him. He went to raise his arm and looked annoyed saying, "damn Tim bandaged my whole damn arms. I look like a mummy the hell was he doing" and you stiffened against him.

"Okay asshole that's my bandaging work there, and I'll have you know I stopped a whole lot of your blood from pouring out of your arms." you gave him a childish glare while Jason looked at you with a smirk.

"Remind me never to get a papercut around you, I might lose circulation." he teased, draped a mummy-arm around you as you relaxed into his embrace.

You retorted: "At least I didn't get wheeled into the cave looking like casper the ghost"

"Alright alright, no more near death experiences, scout's honor." he chuckled, and you decided it was a good enough promise for now.

"Deal" you replied, slowly letting the soft sound of Jason's breathing lull you to sleep as your adrenaline had finally dissipated, finally allowing yourself to believe your boy would live to see another night.

Tomorrow? Or the day after that? Well, that would have to be future Y/N's problem :)

~

Hope you enjoyed, let me know if you caught the song reference. xoxo

[ihopesocomic]

Have you ever thought that maybe MP's success was partially because of children migrating from The Lion Guard? I can see a teenager being told that they're too old to watch Disney kids cartoons, finding MP and shielding themselves with the ableism, gore, etc... To feel more "mature" while still watching a lion cartoon.

It would be a bit depressing, honestly.

"Success" is a strong word because that would insinuate that it did what it was meant to do, as in be popular enough to warrant getting a season 2 picked up by a studio. It also would be successful with its intended audience which is adults. MP isn't nearly as popular as people think it is. Its views plummet after episode 1, my guess is because general audiences gave it a chance and then thought it was stupid and then stopped watching. And the only audience left was people who already liked Tribble from COTW or her warrior cats stuff. Is it more popular than it should be? I'd say so, considering I've seen more people calling male lions "manes" unironically on nature documentaries than I'm comfortable with. And most people who like TLK have never even heard of MP. And TLG is less likely as the majority of people who watched it were between 2-7 years old. But I can probably agree that the majority of people who started watching it, who weren't already fans of Tribble, watched it with the belief that it was going to be more mature than TLK. But it is a really immature show. - Cat

-

It's also worth noting that Tribble literally tried to sell it as a 'more mature Lion King' so that does come across as trying to ride off TLK/TLG's coattails to me, anyway. It's also part of what set this show up for failure. Not only is The Lion King not what I'd call a childish movie (I mean, for fuck's sake: we see a legit dead body on-screen) but My Pride also comes across as very immature and actually censors a lot of its violence when it's not treating it as edgy content.

And I could also rant for days on the incredibly stupid and patronising "trigger warnings" that treats its audience like they're toddlers. The fact that this isn't how you do trigger warnings aside, it's almost like Tribble was aware kids would sneak a look at this "adult" show and couldn't help but poke fun at it.

So, the demographic for this show is just all up in the air and I think that's another issue to consider here. I feel Tribble certainly wanted to appeal to more adult fans but she also didn't want to completely alienate her minor audience because she got big off a minor-driven fandom (Warrior Cats). Decisions, decisions...

But like Cat said, MP fans have this weird perception that this show was a smash hit based on its views alone and there's a lot of nuance that goes into YT view counts, such as rewatches being counted as new views and so on.

Not to mention certain things occurred that also affected the overall viewership of the entire series too. Things like Tribble being called out around the time Episode 4 came out and people just opting not to watch any further when homophobia was revealed to be a thing in Episode 7. - RJ

[habbohoteldotdk]

When I was still deeply addicted to the Internet to the point I'd cycle through weird extremist sites that called for the death of people who look like me, news websites, and regular social media all at the same time, spending upwards of 12 hours a day on them (to the point the sensation of holding my phone in my hand still felt tangible even when I wasn't using it), I knew it wasn't "right" and that one day I'd figure out how to stop. I postponed that decision to the distant future. I hyped myself up by reading posts on r/nosurf made by people who succesfully stopped using the Internet in a problematic way (and by problematic use, I mean intending to check a website for only 10 minutes and realizing that two hours have passed and you've since forgotten what you were initially looking for), I read books that aimed to help the reader defeat their addiction, I read quotes, I watched videos, I was looking for anything outside of myself that would somehow magically pull me out of my addiction. I assumed it was like a switch that could be turned on and off.

It took years for me to gradually reduce my usage. I realized the change happened mostly because my feelings around the Internet changed. When I was a kid, it was a place to play games and have fun (I would cycle through YouTube, Minecraft forums, browser games) and even when I had my first phone (at 12) I'd never bring it with me to school.

That belief I had about the Internet remained with me as I aged but my world expanded. Internet meant having social media. Internet meant reading the news. Internet meant talking to extremists online. Internet meant watching gore videos. Internet meant knowing a school shooting just happened on the other side of the planet... but it was simultaneously still a place 'to play games and have fun', but that function lessened to make room for all the things I enumerated earlier. So... the Internet back then was still as addictive as it is today, but the introduction of these novel things into my Internet experience turned it into an even bigger time sink.

Going back to the point I was making, my screen time reduced because while I was hyping myself up throughout those years, telling myself "this is definitely the year where I'll stop scrollllllllingggg", making up these elaborate logical reasons as to why I should quit browsing X or Y website, my emotions/feelings about the online world subconsciously followed suit, because change mostly comes from emotion. Even if it may not seem like much, all those days added up (some of these days where I've wasted my entire evening scrolling past stuff I cannot remember anymore, others where I didn't go past the 3 hour mark according to my phone's screen time monitor) and there's absolutely no desire for me to waste hours on some random sites anymore. Changing is akin to turning a cube into a sphere with fine grit sandpaper, every day you work towards it, and only in time you will see the change.

But when I first started trying to get a bit more control over my addiction I thought life operated like a cartoon where I strike a chisel against marble once and it collapses into a perfect Adonis. I spent all day looking for the right spot to strike to perfectly and effortlessly change instead of actually making changes (as explained above, in my case I was compiling resources like this one [video], this one [video] and this one [long-form article], re-reading them over and over again as if they'd instantly rewire my brain and bring about new changes in my life).

[sam-keeper]

The Black Cat (1934)

I came to The Black Cat through cartoons: Norman M Klein's 7 Minutes is a history of american theatrical animation--particularly its decline and fall, which he blames in part on the Hays Code. For Klein, while the code itself was never imposed upon animation studios directly as a tool of censorship, it encouraged economic censorship, which imposed a new orderly world upon cartoons. Anyway, I finished the book as we prepared our list for the year's halloween marathon, and it prompted me to look into pre-Code horror. Just what were black and white horror films like before industry leaders brought the hammer of censorship down on the medium?

Enter The Black Cat, in which Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff face off as old friends turned mortal enemies, with the souls of a couple of dopey American tourists as prize in their deadly game. I fell in love with the film before even watching because I located a clip of one of the bonkers early reveals in the film and instantly latched onto the interplay between Lugosi and Karloff. Lugosi is searching for his lost wife, who he thinks Karloff has spirited away. Karloff finally relents and says he will take Lugosi to see her, bringing him deep into the derelict military fort he has built his home on. There he reveals Lugosi's wife, dead, suspended by the hair in a glass coffin. "I wanted to have her beauty always," Karloff intones.

Hell. Yes. This is everything I wanted from "pre-Code horror". And the rest of the film does not disappoint for insanity. Oh, sure, the "suggested by" in "suggested by a story by Edgar Allen Poe" tells you how faithful to literary classics it is, and its own plot is a bit scattershot and nonsensical. But while it doesn't show a lot of shocking gore on screen, it's not really short on depravity, and watching Lugosi and Karloff play off each other is delightful.

I think it's easy to write this era of horror off as well trodden cliches, and rather tame approaches to the ghastly and ghoulish. I fully expected the film to take place in a haunted eastern european satanic castle, for example. Certainly the foundation of the set fits that description: as I've noted already, the basement of Karloff's manor is an abandoned fort in which hundreds of men died during the First World War due to his machinations. Atop the ruin, however, perches the architect Karloff's brilliant modernist manor, a gleaming Bauhaus facility. Why, even the chamber where he does rituals in praise to Satan with other european perverts is in gorgeous art deco style! The film suggests that all this modernity is just the new face of very old demons and horrors (a more astute insight than maybe the film's creators were consciously going for). For its occasional choppiness and dated mannerisms, the sheer weirdness of this film is well worth seeing for yourself, even if it necessitates getting over the hurdle of our popular perception of this era's films. And what of the Code? The juxtaposition of modernist brilliance and depravity drives the film, and it's hard to imagine it having the same impact with, say, a competent police force, or no suggestion of Karloff's sexual predation. Horror films, it turns out, don't get better when you strip them of all menace and render them less deathly, more deathly dull.

And if that's not enough, I'll tell you that one of the diabolical duo--I won't reveal which one!--strings the other up on a torture device, rips off his shirt, and--no, I shan't say. It's simply too depraved. You'll have to see for yourself... if you dare!

Read more horror reviews all month for Halloween on my Patreon

[nova--michael]

How the My Little Pony Fandom ruined my mental health (long rant(/essay?))

TW: sexual themes, gore, trauma, self harm, suicidality

I will go in-depth in alot of sensitive topics, please proceed with caution

I got into My Little Pony when Season 2 aired. In 2011, I was 7 at the time, 2nd grade. English isn't my first language, I didn't even know other languages were a thing. That is until I got access to the internet. We had a family computer that I used basically daily. I mostly drew on MSPaint and played Animal Jam. I was a happy little girl at the time. Eventually, I discovered YouTube. Which became my new obsession. I consumed content like an addict. And eventually, I stumbled upon My Little Pony, where people uploaded whole episodes. The first episode I watched was "Fall Weather Friends", S1 E13. I was hooked instantly. Bright colorful Ponies! It reminded me of the Fillys I collected. So I consumed more. Was able to find a playlist with all episodes in order. The only thing is, they were in English, which I didn't understand. But I didn't care. I wanted my magical colorful ponies! So I watched it and had an overwhelmingly fun time. It was "Bridle Gossip" S1 E9 where the language just...clicked for me. I can't explain it, but it felt like I suddenly could understand almost every word and my English knowledge expanded from there. Which was a yay for me, because now I could watch my colorful Pony cartoon and actually understand what they were saying. It gave me a big heads up when we started learning English a year later in 3rd grade. I never learned English in that class, knowledge wise I already knew what I needed and was very far ahead of everyone. All thanks to My Little Pony.

But I think it is also the start of when everything went downhill for me.

I explicitly remember holding paper in front of the screen to trace the Mane 6's outfits from the episode "Suited for Success" S1 E14 with a pencil. The show made me really get into art. I drew My Little Pony left and right, and it eventually led me to DeviantArt, which I still have fond memories of. I found out that people made original characters. So I did so too. One of my first ever character was "Starshine" which I still love dearly and sketch when I'm bored. But this also led me down the Brony Fandom rabbit hole. Once I realized people made their own My Little Pony content it was over. I literally obsessed over fan content. I consumed everything that the Fandom could offer. And when I mean everything, I mean Everything.

I don't know what the first gore or nsfw content I consumed, I really do not remember. But it was ultimately this content that shaped me or....better say traumatized me that still affects me to this day.

Just like many people in the Fandom, I found out what "Cupcakes" is. A creepy, gore fanfiction that was about Pinkie Pie dismembering Rainbow Dash and turning her into Cupcakes. One of the many fan content I consumed but I remember this being one of the first experiences I had with gore. I watched the original video from ocarinaplaya. I was, I had no idea what gore was. But it was MLP, so I watched it. And this was the first straw that altered my brain. It was like a car crash, i couldn't look away. The way Pinkie tortured and cut up Rainbow Dash. And I consumed more. Smile HD, Cupcakes SFM, My Little Paradox, Pony.MOV, Lil Miss Rarity, My Little Amnesia, Elements of Insanity (that I still unironically love to this day), and so much more. You name it, I watched it. Things like Elements of Insanity and Cupcakes SFM all led me down the SFM rabbit hole. SFM = Source Filmmaker. When I see SFM models of the MLP characters now, I swear I get flashbacks. Because through SFM I found sensual MLP content. Of course, not all of SFM was sexual or gore. Some masterpieces like Doors, Fluttershys Dream, The Walk, Remembrance, Nightmare Night, all are so good.

But of course with SFM came very...sensual MLP content. Ponies kissing or Making out or even going as far as almost having sex. And something changed in my brain. I started to...actively search out these videos. Rarijack, TwiDash - Hearts and Hooves Day, Appledash, those freaking Fart and Vore videos. I watched it all. I don't know what I felt at the time, I don't remember or more so I don't want to remember. All I know is that I started to seek them out. Like actively searching for it. Which also led me to non sfm sensual content. Twilight Sparkle Pantsu, Friendship is Benefits, Concerning Pegasi, Fluttershy gets BEEPBEEPED in the Maze and infamous Banned from Equestria.

Remember I was a child. 9-10 at the time. And 99% of these videos didn't have any warnings. Nothing. And even if they had a warning 80% of those were joke warnings.

I consumed alot of My Little Pony porn and gore in my childhood. Unrestricted Internet access traumatized me to no end.

It was Banned from Equestria which had changed a lot for me. Because I found out that it was a game. An actual game you could play. And I sought it out. I played a lot of Pony games too, especially the ones on the very old Hasbro website. But Banned from Equestria was almost too easy to find. I found it on a website mainly for bad porn games. And it had a category that was purely for My Little Pony. I just went to search for it. I only needed to type "mlp porn games" and it was instantly there. 2 clicks is all that it took. Yes, the website is still up sadly. That website led me down another awful rabbit hole of My Little Pony porn games. Again, I was 10, I had no idea what porn was. Or sex. But it was this (and a separate event that happened in my family) that taught me what it was. And again, I searched for those things actively. And played those games religiously. By 10 years old I was a freaking porn addict. Not even gore (which I developed PTSD from), but Porn was the thing that caught my attention. I also learned what masturbation was thanks to that. And I did just that. I masturbated almost on the daily. Found my Mom's toys, stole them, and used them. Now, masturbation isn't a bad thing by any means. It's good to explore your body and what makes you feel good but I was just an innocent kid...

My parents never found out. My Mom eventually caught on I stole her toys but never did anything against it. Nor did she educate me. She let me do my thing. So I basically masturbated daily, sometimes more than once. What being horny was, was something I didn't even know. I only knew I wanted to do this because is saw my colorful ponies do it.

But these porn games made me spiral. I lost so much of my childhood innocence through this. I spend most of my childhood and early teen years (I started puberty when I was 9) by watching porn, playing porn, and the occasional gore. It has twisted what sex even was for me. The whole concept was ruined for me. To this day.

Throughout the next years, I learned more about porn, and went through many different rabbit holes. My Little Pony Porn, actual porn, Furry Porn, it didn't matter. If it was Porn, I consumed it.

I would also blame this addiction was the reason I became/am hypersexual.

And now, over 10 years later, what changed?

Nothing. I have grown so disgusted by Sex, it's why I'm AroAceflux now. I know. Hypersexuality and AroAce? Pick a struggle. But I'm serious. I consume a lot of Porn to this day. Masturbation had died down but it still happens occasionally. The people I follow on Patreon mainly do nsfw content. Hell, I was on Nsfw-twt a few years ago too.

Porn has ruined my whole mental state. It's scientifically proven that subjecting children to porn and gore at an early age can severely damage their development and I think I'm no exception.

My mental health has been very bad since 2016. I started to cut myself frequently and get suicidal. I still carry scars to this day and I do blame a lot on this addiction. I've been self-harm clean for about 3 years now. I was severely suicidal again in 2021 where I almost killed myself has it not been a friend calling the cops i still struggle with being suicidal to this day though, despite having finished therapy.

I also struggled with a lot of identity stuff at the time. I have it figured out now and am openly out as a trans man by a lot of people in my life. And I have an amazing support system now. But I never really had the opportunity to talk about THIS. How the My Little Pony Fandom ruined my mental health due to the content that was created, without any content warnings. I say I also developed my PTSD from this.

Obviously not just that, it was a lot of trauma family and school-wise wise that made me develop PTSD but I also will blame these types of MLP content for this as well.

Now, I love the Brony fandom. I still do. So many people I have met who are in this Fandom are so incredibly nice, but the awful stuff just stands out even more. This was an innocent kids show about colorful ponies and the magic of friendship. Many children with unrestricted internet access watched it. And watched this type of content. The Fandom should have been a lot more critical about the type of content that they post

I know I'm not the only person that was subjected to gore and porn. Many children from 2010-2017 were traumatized by this type of content. And I wouldn't be surprised if many also developed mental disorders because of it, whether it be Depression, PTSD, Hypersexuality, etc. Many of the young fans are scarred

And we still are

And we are still trying to heal as young adults

Hell, I'm turning 20 very soon, and I still struggle so hard with my mental health and the scars I got in my early childhood and early teen years.

I should've spend those years so much differently

But I didn't and know I'm left to pick up the pieces.

I hope this shines some light on the cruel side of the Brony community, I recommend Raymundo2112's video "The SINS of Bronies", it goes also in-depth about the psychological effects of children being subjected to porn and gore

Please be careful what children consume on the internet.

Now

I apologize for this length, I just wanted to talk about it

I'm open to any questions that may come up, and I'm sorry for my irl people who see this

Thank you for reading, it means alot

[bo-bo-bean]

Smiling Critters, how do you feel about the happy tree friends?

Well... I like the premise! Although I could do without the gore? I adore Handy! He's hilarious and I admire his tenacity!

Haha, quite the show! I like Sniffles, as truism as that sounds. He's very inventive! Although, if he could just stop messing with ants, I'm sure he'll have a better time! He eats other foods, but I suppose a guilty snack is too tantalizing to pass up on.

I find the show pretty nice...! It's clear the characters all love each other; even the two raccoons have a bond! It's lovely! I think my favorite character is Flippy... He really deserves better and I want to just pull him through the screen and give him my best hug EVER!

Sorry I... Don't think I've seen the show. But DogDay says that's for the best. It's a shame; it looks so... Um... Cute, like a children's cartoon.

Freakin' epic!! The rabbit is my favorite!! Nothing goes past him and he's probably the bravest rabbit, uh, ever!? I don't like when he dies, but man dying from being shot by a canon?? That's a way to go!

Oh yeah, I know that show! It's the animal critters that go through horrible deaths, right? My favorite is the flying squirrel...! I think his name was... Super? I dunno, I watched it as a kit as a dare. Haven't really thought about it much.

Um... The food looks good! And Nutty is someone I can relate to, but the show kind of makes it hard to eat meat, my favorite food! So while I can watch it, I do it sparingly. Especially when we're having a barbeque!

...