#youtube emetophobia warning

[bransons-emetophobia-warnings]

ZOOCHOSIS (2024)(VIDEO GAME)

ZOOCHOSIS IS NOT EMETOPHOBIA SAFE!

I found myself repeatedly caught off guard by my emetophobia and extremely triggered during my time watching a playthrough Slimecicle did with an interesting immersive twist of this game, (which is a bummer because the video I was watching was very entertaining, and I was very interested in the game's story). I'll try my best to tell you what I know, but spoiler alert: I recommend that emetophobes just avoid this one altogether.

There are many occasions where people and animals trigger emetophobia with absolutely no semblance of warning, including the character you play as, in a very sudden, realistic, first-person manner. It is very audibly visceral, and there is a very detailed, however unrealistic, but extremely triggering (in my experience), animation that goes along with it.

Animals will do so whenever the player messes up a diagnosis or a food mixture, or whenever the mutated ones are healed. I'm also under the impression that some of the morphed forms do this for unrelated reasons.

The player will do so more or less at random.

There are so many scenes like this that are so visceral that my recommendation is to avoid the game and any online playthroughs altogether if you are emetophobic. I am incapable of giving a warning for every scene.

These scenes can last anywhere from three to twenty seconds.

[seasonallydefective]

If you can handle a little cheesy gore, watch Extra Ordinary (2019). Fantastic little indie horror comedy (light on horror, heavy on the comedy) out of Ireland about a woman who’s basically a medium who renounced her gift and now runs a driving school. One of the things that struck me was how normal the cast looked, and that there weren’t any jokes about the main character’s appearance.

It’s also just REALLY fucking good. Absolutely shot to the top of movies I’ve seen this year! (I’ve seen about 80 and counting so … that has to count for something.)

cast fat people in normal roles that do not revolve around being fat/ridiculed, I dare you

[cyrsed]

im biased but 1 thing i miss in the remake is how disgusting the slasher noises sounded in the original & i think the original makes better use of the color yellow

[harbingrs]

I coughed you up Saw you swimming there in my blood It sort of makes sense now Why you always had my love There's something about you that makes me tick There's something about you that makes me sick I think I want you Oh God, I want you

[meeludrawz]

New rehab program - Pt2

~ You're the very last therapist that the law has sent to "help" Shigaraki Tomura. All Might is the one who recommended you but the thing is, you have to be roommates with the villain ~

Warnings: You have anxiety, skin picking problems (Not mentioned in this text but will be in next parts), emetophobia, angst? (Idk if that counts as angst) Author's note: So this part is VERY self indulgent, but you can enjoy it nonetheless!

In a month, you learned alot about his "schedule".

Shigaraki was quite the night owl. In the morning, you'd hear nothing coming from his room but by the time noon approached, you'd start hearing shuffling. He'd eventually come out, do his morning routine, probably, in the bathroom then sat down at the table to eat lunch with you. He never sat close to you though, always at the very opposite end of the table. You both never really talked either, well, you did try here and there but everytime he'd give you that one murderous look, that'd easily make you shut up.

Then he'd get up and watch TV while you did the dishes. Tomura was usually looking at Netflix or Youtube.

You were glad he felt comfortable enough to spend an hour or two on the couch while you were in the next room. You had tried to sit down in the living room to watch something with him, but he'd get up and watch the rest in his room. It always made you feel horrible. You knew you were unwanted since the very beginning but acting like that, right in front of you, was just painful. It only happened once and it was enough to make you stop trying to watch tv with him.

If he didn't watch TV after eating, he'd immediately go back to his room and not move from there until dinner.

Dinner was like every lunch, silent and awkward but he never seemed to find your food horrible as he always finished his whole plate or never showed any signs of disgust. Maybe he was just a good liar, but you couldn't help but feel glad that he liked your cooking.

You also picked up how much he didn't want help. Not just for therapy, but for everything else too.

One time he had lost "something", you figured it was important due to him rummaging around the whole place, so out of curiosity, you had asked him what was going on.

Surprisingly, he had answered. "Lost something"

"Would you like me to help? What did you lose?" You had genuinely asked.

By the look he had given you, you immediately knew that he was highly suspecting you. He probably thought that you had hidden his stuff. Tomura refused your help, and threw an insult so you never figured out what he was looking for. He eventually had stopped searching an hour later. Hopefully, you thought he had found it.

There was the time when his new gaming chair had arrived. He had installed himself in the living room to assemble it.

Half an hour later, you heard a thud and an angry Tomura swearing loudly so you ran to him. "Are you okay??" You had carefully approached him

Whatever happened that day, he only had stood up, looked at you dead in the eyes and went: "Fuck off" Before he locked himself in the bathroom.

But right before he did, you had spotted him holding his hand while he walked past. You figured he hurt himself and it hurt… You had only wanted to help since the beginning but he didn't want to. Of course you couldn't force him, but still.

There were other small events like these where you quickly learned that he preferred taking care of himself.

Little did you know, something would change soon

``` ```` Today was the only day that Shigaraki was allowed to go out that wouldn't require groceries or stuff like that. He could go out do anything he wanted! But under the eye of a pro hero, of course. Which, you couldn't help but observe, that it would get him more tense than usual.

Dabi and the pro hero, Hawks, had came to pick him up. The winged hero was in charge of the blue flame villain, like you were in charge of Shigaraki. He was also here to see how you were handling things with the crimson eyed villain.

When they walked in, Dabi went to Tomura's bedroom, while Hawks leaned on the kitchen counter in front of you. You were holding a warm mug of hot cocoa, unsure about this outing, but you trusted the heroes, didn't you? "Well, I'm not sure how it's going or what you're doing with him but he never had a therapist staying this long before"

You held a tiny smile before looking down and sighing. "Well, I honestly think I failed.. We didn't make any progress.. And sometimes it's.." You hesitated. He raised a brow but patiently waited for you to finish. "It's scary.. Whenever I try to do something, I.. He looks at me like I'm the worst thing on Earth and I immediately back off.. I- I don't think I'll be able to endure this for long"

The hero's expression softened even more than earlier. "Hm.. I get ya, it's not easy at all and it's even risky.. But hey I heard your quirk is quite useful for that, he didn't try to… Do anything against you, right?"

You nodded in agreement, your quirk was just enhanced reflexes. If something was thrown at you with no ill intent, you could easily catch it, like a ball or your keys. You could also easily climb up on a pile of books and if you had to fall, you'd easily land on your feet. But if someone wanted to attack you, you could easily dodge attacks. Though, it wouldn't work if someone threw a ball with too much strength or speed, or if you fell from too high.

"When are you thinking about leaving?" The hero asked.

You glanced back up at him. "Well, once the Director of the program knows, I think I should be able to leave next week"

Hawks nodded but as he was about to add something, Dabi and Shigaraki walked past you two. The purple-ish-scarred man giving you a respectful nod while Tomura didn't even acknowledge you before they entered Hawks' car.

The winged hero usually didn't need one but when he was hanging out with more than one person, he couldn't fly with them. Even though that would be more than hilarious. "Welp, time to go, I should bring him back around midnight"

You nodded, giving him an amused smile. It sounded like he was Dabi's dad telling you that he'll bring your "rebellious" child (Shigaraki) safe and sound.

You watched them leave with the "ex-villains". He was lucky that they were wearing those necklaces or else he would've been easily outnumbered. Now that they were "quirkless", he could handle them both with the strength of his feathers, if they even tried something that is.

You tried staying up all night to welcome them back but you ended up falling asleep on the couch.

The next morning, you woke up finding a little note on the little table in front of the couch.

'He drank a little bit too much, so he might be cranky tommorrow, sorry - Hawks <3'

Great

Now you had to deal with an hungover villain.

"I'm leaving soon" You sighed to yourself.

You got up, walked to the bathroom, brushed your teeth and all that.

You then decided to take a shower, but as soon as you were done, a towel wrapped around you, Shigaraki kicked the door open. You screamed and jolted. "W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"

The minute you saw his face, a cold shiver went down your whole spine, you KNEW what was going on.

Your brain was YELLING at you to run as far as possible to escape. But Shigaraki hurried past you and hunched over the toilet.

You had, by instinct, already covered your ears with your hands as your body started shaking violently and tears were forming in the corner of your eyes.

You kept your eyes, very anxiously, on the door.

Your brain was screaming at you, telling you to RUN, to ESCAPE, that it WASN'T SAFE to stay near him!

He was fine, he was fine! He didn't help-!

But he's your PATIENT-!

NO NO NO NO! RUN!!

Danger-! DANGER!!

NO, HELP HIM, he could CHOKE and DIE!!

You DIDN'T want to let someone die when you were RIGHT THERE, to help!

Shigaraki restarted gagging and, without being able to control your body, you stormed out. At this point, your shaking had increased. You clutched, holding it for dear life, the towel wrapped around you.

Once you had reached the extreme opposite of the house, which was a corner in the dining room, you had curled up in a ball. You silently cried, squeezing your hands against your ears, wanting to block EVERY little sound. But you had to calm down, you HAD to, you couldn't like this! He couldn't see you like this!

'What do I do? What do I DO?!' You wanted to scream.

You let out a whimper, you knew what to do but you really REALLY didn't want to get near him.

Your brain was screaming danger all over and over again. What a pathetic therapist you were, being mortified at the sight of vomit. Hell, you didn't even had a glimpse of it! And you were curled up in a ball, naked, in a corner of the dining room.

After what seemed horribly long, you very very carefully removed your hands from your ears and you surprisingly, and gladly, didn't hear any sound.

Though, it worried you, was he-

You quickly got up, the room spun a little, and headed to the bathroom. You, once again, very very carefully peaked inside and found him sitting on the floor, his back against the bathtub.

You shakily walked towards Shigaraki and carefully lifted his hair up a little. He flinched but never struggled against you, his body probably still felt too upset to try anything.

You were still shaking like hell and you never looked at him when you said: "L-Let's get y-your hair cleaned.." You didn't care about your very trembling voice, you just grabbed a small towel, poured water on it and gently rubbed his hair. You almost didn't look, not wanting to get a glance of anything that he had thrown up.

It slowly made you relax.

He was fine, you were fine, you weren't going to catch whatever he had because it was just a hungover, you cannot catch a hungover, you weren't hungover, you wouldn't get sick. You kept repeating those sentences nonstop in your head.

You grabbed his shirt, tugging it a little and he understood what you were doing. He raised his arms and you removed it. Then throwing it in the sink, as fast as you could to not touch or see anything that could trigger your fear more than it already was.

You had to take care of him, you had to, it was your job, wasn't it? You also kept repeating those in your mind.

You bent down next to him, your vision was a bit blurry but you felt fine, It was just not focusing on anything, which was perfect like that. Though, were you really feeling fine? No, not at all, you were still shaking, your heart felt like it was going to explode and your breathing also hadn't settled that much.

You didn't glance at him, you just put the back of your hand against his forehead, just making sure, but it was hard to keep it against him due to your trembling. He seemed fine though.

Your throat squeezed, you had to force yourself to talk. "A-Are you okay?"

Shigaraki looked so exhausted, almost zombie-like. Mostly with the state of his hair, it hid his whole face like a mop was thrown on top of him. He nodded before mumbling. "..Are you?"

You blinked, focusing your eyes again and you realized that he was looking at your hand who was still shaking against his forehead. You slowly removed it, trying to compose yourself.

You wanted to tell him that you weren't okay, but that would make you and horrible therapist, wouldn't it? You were the one that had to take care of him, not the opposite. Your lips quivered, and tears restarted to form in the corner of your eyes but you controlled yourself as much as you could. "Y-Yeah" Your voice cracked, of course, but you would keep lying if he kept asking.

He threw a quick glance at me. "Bullshit" He spat out, keeping his voice low though as he sounded more raspy than usual.

You showed him a weak smile before murmuring: "Yeah"

This would've been a good time to talk and have a little therapy session but the both of you stayed silent. Personally, you didn't want to push him, not after what he had gone through a few minutes ago. And him? He wasn't a therapist, what could he even say?? Not that he cared anyway. In all honesty, he felt so horrible that he didn't give a shit about you. He just felt like sleeping plus drinking water since his head and throat were killing him.

You eventually stood up and left to your bedroom. Though, you couldn't help but feel bad for leaving him in the bathroom.

Part 1

Pt 2 - You're here

Pt 3

[the-raven-lady]

(Not) The Savior You Long For [Part 3]

[Masterlist] [My Ko-Fi]

Pairing: Night Lord (OC: Elias Rushorik) x serf!Reader [fem]

Song Inspiration: Nocturnal Me - Echo & The Bunnymen  [YouTube] [Spotify] “Do or die, what's done is done / True beauty lies on the blue horizon / Who or why? What's one is one / In pure disguise of vulgar sons / Oh, take me internally / Forever yours, nocturnal me.”

Warnings: Getting tattooed in detail (needles and pain), vomiting / emetophobia, illness and recovery, mentions of violence and gore, cannibalism, food (and lack thereof) talks, partially unreliable narrator?

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone for being straight feral for this man. It makes writing for him far easier. Thank you @mothiir for keeping me company as I wrote and happy late birthday.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual 

@lemon-russ @moodymisty @dedios-of-the-word @pickpocketing-your-gender @historitor-bookshelf

The needle digging into your skin alternates between a carpet burn and the drag of a razor blade as the apothecary packs black pigment into your nape. Vibrations electrify your entire nervous system and tingle deep into your bones, sending all of your systems haywire. You lost the ability to hold yourself upright through the pain a long time ago, your master having simply pivoted and shoved you face-first into his bed when the iron grip around your neck wasn’t enough to silence your incessant whimpering. 

You ball your hands into fists and press them hard into your lap as an aggravated spinal nerve shoots lightning down your arm. The apothecary hisses in Nostraman, but the foreign words are lost to your pain-addled brain, too much blood whirring in your ears. The Contekar holding you steady digs his fingers into your jaw, the greater pain refocusing you and inadvertently soothing the ache in your clenched teeth. Your eyes blink open to his creased brow and tired eyes glaring at you in warning. You hadn’t even noticed the high pitched whimper leaving your throat with how focused you’d been trying to hold your breath, but it’s not a difficult leap in logic to realize that your tattoo artist was getting annoyed with the constant sound of a balloon leaking air.

The next time it happens is after you cry out from a stab to a particularly tender area above the spine, and both parties were substantially less polite about it. The apothecary lifts the needle from where it bore into you, and you don’t even have the time to catch your breath before someone kicks your chair and spins it round. The next thing you perceive is total darkness and the inability to take a full breath, as well as an immovable force preventing you from lifting your head back up. Your entire body tenses up as the needle once again makes contact and angry vibrations rattle down your spine.

Gentle wipes of a cold cloth against the entirety of your nape jarringly signaled the close of the session, temporarily calming the constant burn. What felt like an eternity had at most been three hours, but by the end your entire body was exhausted. You were dehydrated and nauseous, trembling from adrenaline and low blood sugar. Your limbs were torn between desperately needing to stretch out and being completely uncooperative. 

On legs of jelly, you slowly stagger up out of the chair and lift your face off of the bed, firmly planting your hands into the soft mattress to stabilize yourself. Moisture from where you had been crying stains the blanket and your cheeks. Disorienting static buzzes within your head.

The apothecary is packing up his cart, tossing used supplies into a bag on the side and putting the used needles in a rigid case with an occasional clink, clink. You squint as you notice a scarlet ink cup on the tabletop, not remembering when that had been poured despite trying to pay attention at first. The terminator and apothecary exchange quiet words in their native tongue before the apothecary pulls a tub of… something from one of the cart’s many drawers. The terminator accepts it with a scoff, shaking his head in annoyance, and puts the object next to his ornate armor. 

The back of your neck is lit up like a severe sunburn, curling around the edges of your traps and up behind your ears. Turning your head from side to side gives no glimpse of the new ink (but it does remind you of how stiff your body is). Whatever substance had been put on top of the tattoo is greasy and warm; you guess it must be there to protect the fresh wound.

The creak of the door opening and closing alerts you to the apothecary taking his leave, dragging the cart out behind him. The terminator gives the room a once over, then turns his black eyes to you. Your brain is too tired to react to the weight of his gaze at the moment, clouded by adrenal buzzing, and you feel the corners of your lips quirk up as you meet his stare. The slivers of white in the corners of his eyes make him look like an overgrown dog.

He huffs and looks away, sitting back against his table and grabbing the tub of whatever from earlier to read its label over. The way folds his arms over his broad chest conceals several of his larger chest ports, and you wonder why they’re placed along his body in each specific location. Questions for another day.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you find yourself moving in the direction of the bathroom. Each step is messy and uncoordinated, feet dragging, but you manage to not fall over as you push yourself off of support of the bed. Getting tattooed so close to the head must be making your brain do spirals. Head warm and floaty, vision dreamlike and unfocused. Everything simultaneously feels better than it ever has and dreadfully wrong, but you can’t find it within you to care. The world has never been so ethereal.

You jump as you recognize the face in front of you. When had you gotten to the mirror?

Craning your neck to the side, you catch sight of the red and black artwork wrapping around your neck. Inflammation has set in over the entire area, an angry flush from head to chest. The thick black outline of a bat wing curves down from behind your ear to the top of your shoulder, packed with crimson. Red waves and spirals flow along its webbing in cascades. You turn fully to your side and drag the skin of your shoulder down to see the rest of it.

Subtlety was not considered for this design.

A skull sits between the bat wings along your spine, perfectly aligned with where the vertebra of your neck meet those of your back. Above the skull sits two symbols you don’t recognize: one in the shape of a cross, and another like a rotated ‘F’. You’ve seen similar script on some of the older Night Lord’s armor, but you never inquired about their meaning before. Whatever they are, they likely serve some function beyond purely aesthetic.

A sudden warmth overtakes you. Your hand slips from its perch on the oversized sink basin, and you nearly topple over, just barely catching yourself in time as a wave of vertigo washes over you. Alarms ring in your ears, tinnitus deafening everything around you. The grey tiled floor begins to swirl, churning tides at your feet that double and triple. Dull throbbing pounds from the inside of your skull. 

The only warning you get before the contents of your stomach paint the surface of the sink is a furious twist in your gut. You violently retch the remainder of your last meal, coughing and sputtering sour yellow chunks off of your tongue. 

You meet your own bloodshot eyes in the mirror as your legs begin to give out, clutching weakly at the sink to keep yourself upright. A sheen of sweat coats your face, cheeks flushed despite a sudden pallor to the rest of you. Each breath you take is labored and intense, diaphragm screaming at you for oxygen you can’t seem to get. 

What is happening–? You try to speak but the words won’t come out, tongue too large for your mouth. Am I dying–? 

The slam of the door is the only thing that reaches your fogged brain, and you sluggishly turn your head to meet it. Shadows crawl in from the opening like licks of dark smoke.

Everything tunnels around you, and a sharp sting of blinding white floods your vision.

Soft. The surface is soft, warm. 

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt so comfortable.

The heavy blanket around you anchors your sore body down, faux fur and minky sending little prickles up your arm as you brush your fingertips against the fabric. You must not be in your spot on the floor, unless your pillow had grown three sizes from the last time you checked. 

Honestly, you couldn’t tell if it did or not. A heavenly glow basks the room around you, hazing the edges of your vision. 

The tattoo had killed you— it must have, for why else would you be so at ease? This couldn’t be the Nightfall. 

An angel walks into your view, a vast colossus of perfection. Its form radiates with light, grey eyes dotting along its body in random locations that all seem to stare right at you. You’d dare call it beautiful. Gingerly, you reach a hand out towards it, hoping to share in its magnificence.

The afterlife wasn’t so unwelcoming after all.

Elias swears if you grab his leg one more time he’s going to tie you to the chair and leave you outside for the vermin. For the tenth time he swats away your hand, trapping it against the edge of the bed. He pushes away the blanket covering you to check over your weeping tattoo as the apothecary instructed. His eyes hone in on the subtle beating of your heart, capillaries expanding and contracting as lymph tries desperately to carry away the astartes blood in the ink. You haven’t died yet, which is a positive; it would reflect poorly on his abilities and reputation otherwise.

Your frail little body treats him like an infection. Elias had heard you vomit from the bathroom and surged in just in time to watch your head slam into the metal sink as you collapsed. There’s still a yellowing bruise on your cheek from where it had impacted, but the deep purples and reds have dissipated. He couldn’t remember a time when he was so delicate, even as a human. 

…however long ago it had been since then. The Night Haunter had only just been found by the Emperor and joined forces with the Imperium at the time Elias became a neophyte. 

You give a pathetic whine at his touch, and it grates him. It’s as if Apothecarion Rathal had tattooed the intelligence straight out of you, reducing you to a groveling ape and no more. Your skin was perpetually damp and perspiration soaked into the fine linens of his bed sheets, which made them reek of you (did you not understand how difficult it had been to acquire those?). You moan and hyperventilate in your sleep, demanding his attention away from the responsibilities you had shirked in your illness.

And now it was his responsibility to care for you? Absurd. Still, the human medicae would surely do no better than he could. It was bad enough that he can’t even use his own bed during this extended downtime because you’re in it.

It isn’t as if he hasn’t tried, but it’s difficult to focus on his own activities when every few minutes a sick human is trying to clutch onto you like a child in need of comforting. 

First, he had been attempting to clean off the plates of his armor while you were unable to do it for him. Elias sat over the edge of the bed to avoid getting any of the flakes on his expensive spread, when your needy little hands had snaked around his waist and pulled at him. “No,” he had scolded, pushing you off, but your foolishly feverish mind wouldn’t take that for an answer. You redoubled your efforts, forcing him to move to his far less comfortable chair to finish. 

Second was after a brutal training session. Elias had worked himself nearly to collapse, pushing the limits of his underfed body. He returned to his quarters drenched in sweat and exhausted, ignoring your sleeping form as he walked past you to take a much needed shower— he didn’t subscribe to the filth of the rest of the Eighth, taking more pride in his image and heritage than the lowly degenerates that had recently populated it. Dried and clean, he pushed you as far to the side as he could before taking up his spot in bed, sinking into the soft mattress with a sigh.

Only to wake up to you snuggling against him.

His back had begun to ache from the amount of half-sleep spent in his chair to accommodate for your needs. If you had been any less diligent at your job, Elias would have already disposed of you like the rest. 

The previous serfs he’d acquired had proven inadequate. Some would beg and cry to him for their freedom— freedom, as if he had not offered them a better life than they ever could have hoped for on this wretched ship. Others had damaged his armor or belongings, which infuriated him to no end. You at least seemed to know your place and understand the magnitude of the gifts he had given you, even if it had taken multiple days for you to use the pillow and sheet he provided for your floor spot at the foot of his bed.

He may not have kept you around at all if one of his useless younger brothers hadn’t been present in the armory he found you in. 

Elias had just returned from a six month long campaign on a noncompliant feudal world, utterly ravenous and annoyed. The fleet had stopped supplying rations to the squads weeks prior as ‘encouragement’ for them to finish their mission faster. The casualty rate had shot up as a result of the ration cuts, each Night Lord left to fend for themselves. The civilians and guardsmen stood no chance.

Elias had already never been given proper portioning for his body size to begin with, being larger than the majority of his legion by a substantial margin. He left most meals hungry, but he learned how to make up for it in his own ways. 

And there you had been, crying in the corner against a storage locker as his brother cornered you in while spewing ridiculous notions about gutting you. There had been two priorities on Elias’s mind at the time: have his armor refreshed so that he would stand out amongst his squad, and have his belly filled. How kind of his brother to so willingly volunteer for slaughter, getting in his way as he did. Elias had been craving such a protein-dense meal for ages.

You had done an admittedly excellent job cleaning his helmet as he ate. It brought him something akin to happiness that you were intelligent enough to shut up and just work, leaving him to his devices. He was almost grateful he wouldn’t have to devour you. The chances of finding a serf that didn’t question or cry about every little thing were slim.

Speaking since his lip had been torn a half-century ago brought Elias no short amount of annoyance. Sharp consonants like F’s, P’s, and S’s would catch on his lips, causing them to whistle and lisp. It was even worse in Gothic than his native dialect of Nostraman. Eloquent speeches and curt words were softened by the reality of their vocalizations, and over time Elias decided to speak only when necessary to avoid the stress.

He wasn’t ‘self-conscious’ about it. He doesn’t get self-conscious. That was only for the weak minded, and Elias is not weak.

The jar of antibiotic balm has gotten warm in his hand. Deftly unscrewing the lid and dropping it aside, he hooks a dollop onto his finger. The apothecary made it very clear that the tattoo had to be kept moisturized and coated to protect it and have it heal properly, and Elias wouldn’t settle for any imperfections in the design. He had overseen the entire process from start to finish to assure the outcome was as favorable to him as possible. The best tattoo artist, the finest supplies, the most reliable machine, everything. He wouldn’t skimp on the recovery process no matter how difficult you intended to make it.

The terminator kneels down on the bed and rolls your head to the side once more to apply the ointment, diligently spreading it over every exposed inch of the tattoo. The process would go so much more smoothly if you would stop nuzzling into the hand holding your head like a damned kitten. He needs to use both hands to lift the back of your collar up, but your complete inability to stay still and let him work stalls the process. 

An annoyed grunt leaves him, and he sits back to glare down at you. Your eyes are half-lidded and unintelligent when they meet his, and you give him another useless smile. Never learning your lesson, you lean forward to rest your head against his knee, letting out a deep exhale at the contact. It’s ridiculous, the basal creature you’ve become.

But it also puts you in the perfect position for Elias to finish his work. He supposes this is fine if it means you’ll cooperate with him, and he allows himself to relax. He’s only taking advantage of your weakness.

He hooks a finger into your shirt and pulls it away, working the balm down under the fabric to make sure the entirety of the tattoo is coated, rolling it an inch farther out than necessary in all directions in the event you smudge it. He relinquishes your collar and stares down at the runes between the wings. On a whim, he scoops up another small dollop of the salve and focuses more attention to the area. He would prefer his claim on you be clear if nothing else, and no part of the tattoo was more important than his name.

Content, the Night Lord pulls the blanket back over the area and reaches for the lid of the jar to close it.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He stops at your words, returning his gaze to where your cheek rests on his thigh. Your eyes are cloudy and red, pupils dilated so large they nearly envelop your iris. The look is almost pathetic, so reliant on him for your needs.

You have been since he chose to keep you. Unable to stand up to any of his brothers and most other serfs before. You could not find your own clothes, find regular sleep, or find consistent food. Elias had so generously made up for that, providing you new garments and a safe place to sleep, and you still tried to leave at first. Perhaps if you had just spoken up about your needs, he would have known you were hungry sooner. Taking the finer foods the Imperium provided to the remembrancers had been tantamount to stealing from children. No one dared stop him from entering their hall and commandeering what he saw fit to nourish you.

He has now sacrificed his bed for you, but at least it is visible how grateful you are for it. It stirs an odd fluttering in his hearts that makes him grimace.

“Elias.”

Your eyebrows knit together as your obtuse brain thinks loud enough to hear each cog within whir. Are you always so transparent?

“Pardon me, my lord?” you reply, unable to piece it together yourself. Perhaps he has given you too much credit.

With a sigh, he responds, shaking his head. “My name is Elias.”

A light enters your eyes for the first time in a week, a modicum of intelligence coming back to you. The adoring smile on your face widens to a full fledged grin as if you have just been given all of your dreams in life. It would be impossible for another human to look more reverential than you do in the moment, face pressed against him like you’re venerating a god.

If you could purr, Elias swears you would be.

If he still could, he might be too.

And here's the tattoo you got. Hope you like Night Lord Tribal!

They say bold will hold for a reason. Unfortunately for most serfs, it doesn't have to hold very long. I overlayed it on top of some skin tones so you guys had a better idea of what it looks like on the skin.

I debated doing the entire Fenty Beauty shade range but the time sink was high, so here are 18 common shades. If your skin tone isn't on it, feel free to send me a picture and I'll throw the transparent tattoo on top of it :)

[lactosecarrotsoup]

Hey!! My name is Jenny and I've been writing a fanfic based on what we know from the game's lore (in game + the lore live streams) along with my take of what happens! It takes directly after "Petals" and jumps around in point of views, mainly Maria, Johnny, and Danny's. It's a twisted romantic drama with horror and of course tragedy. It also features one art piece by nomoxxie on twitter/x! Thanks again for the permission to use it! The cover is done by me with the Maria model in the image by IRIDESCENDLING on twitter/x too!

This story is far from perfect - as the lore is confusing and not coherent along with my own simple mistakes here and there. But regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Maria Flores is an aspiring photographer who has unfortunate luck. Johnny Slaughter is a mama’s boy raised in a place that makes hell jealous. Johnny captures Maria with only one intention - to make her his. But now Maria’s boyfriend, sister, and friends are out to find her. Could Maria escape? Or will she die trying by hands that claim to “love” her?

WARNING: This story contains graphically written topics! Such as sexual intercourse, sexual assault attempt, sexual assault fantasies, violence, gore/blood, cannibalism, cheating, slight animal abuse, emetophobia, Stockholm syndrome, and character death. I try to put warnings before each chapter. More warnings might come as the story progresses.

[things-that-are-litwtc]

This entire shitshow of a YouTube video is litwtc (I cannot fucking believe this is one of my comfort videos wtf)

Emetophobia warning (sorta) + other slightly gross stuff

This is LITWTC

[theelvishfiddler]

I like the art style you have for the turtles in those 2 comics (the ones I'm referring to is the comic with the broken button and the one where donnie and raph are trying to build something) it looks familiar and the facial expressions are very fun

Thank you! I have a lot of fun with it XD. The style was inspired by a few things you might recognize!

#1 - Juni Ba's TMNT 2022 Annual! I am a HUGE fan of his artstyle, especially the inks and how expressive everything is.

#2 - the youtube short 'Don vs Raph' by Jhonen Vasquez. It's incredibly silly and over the top (although its Very nickelodeon so emetophobia warning from 2:40-3:03 :/ )

#3 - Mike Mignola's artstyle. I borrowed a few volumes of Hellboy from a friend and THE INKS, the inks, the inks, and the angular style of the limbs 10/10

It's also just my usual artstyle, but more geometric and less careful about proportions / perfection. It's what i default to when my chronic arm pain is flaring up, but I (stupidly) still really really want to draw. The simple circle head is a wonderful thing 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

[poddopetals]

TWEWY Bang 2023 Entry by poddopetals — art by @sitraxis @subasekabang

Run Through Fire — Part 1: Starless Nights

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (T)

Pairing: Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo/Kanade Rindo (main) Additional pairings:

Furesawa "Fret" Tosai/Kanade Rindo

Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo/Sakuraba Neku (mentioned)

Furesawa "Fret" Tosai/Kanade Rindo/Sakurane Shoka (mentioned)

Kanade Rindo/Sakurane Shoka (mentioned)

WARNINGS:

Prominent appearances: Swearing, light body horror/gore, burning to death, non-canon character death, blood, nightmares, insomnia, vandalism, vehicle accident, emetophobia, headaches, fainting, food and eating, social avoidance issues, hallucinations, paranoia, characters struggling with mental health, mentions of homelessness, mentions of protests, unspecified anxiety disorder, unspecified hallucinatory disorder, characters argue often

Minor appearances: City destruction, neglectful parents (implied), claustrophobia in crowds, allusion to gang violence, mentions of cops, mentions of politics, mentions of therapy

Summary: Rindo Kanade, now 19, has been having violent nightmares and visions of his time in the Underground. For reasons he can't explain, they subject him to watching himself lose his friend of four years, Beat Bito, to inevitable disasters. This story follows Rindo's journey towards realizing exactly why he's having this issue as he gracelessly and awkwardly navigates his complicated memories and feelings for Beat, laying out a tale that shows the boy's plights of his crippling trauma clashing with young love.

Partner: sitraxis @sitraxis on Twitter @sitraxis on Tumblr Credits

tinpin.bin for proof-reading my grammar

@tinpinwin on Twitter

@tinpinwin on Tumblr

Felix Mittermeier on unsplash for graphics

This series has an official playlist on spotify!

(Or YouTube)

Read on...

AO3:

Google Docs:

WattPad:

Art © sitraxis

Read my thoughts below!

HI GUYS 💜

SO I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FIC FOR A WHIIIILE NOW

I'M SO SO HAPPY TO FINALLY POST IT WITH THE TWEWY BANG!!! WORKING WITH MY BETA READER @TINPINWIN AND MY ARTIST SITRAXIS WAS ABSOLUTELY AWESOME AND THE STAFF OF THE BANG ALONG WITH THE OTHER MEMBERS WERE ALL SO AMAZING AND NICE AND I MADE NEW FRIENDS AND HAD SUCH A GREAT TIME!! If you read this fic, I hope you like it!! It's the first entry to my Run Through Fire series, which will be a BeatRindo fanfic universe that I'll make lots of art and fics and maybe even videos for!! Stay tuned!!!!! :D

[magic8ballofyarn]

Ask a question... Turn over for the answer!

Good day, my name is Juno? and I am the internets finest wizard. I am 20 and a genderqueer lesbian, my pronouns are It/that/they/he sometimes she and I am taken by my forever love, Lawrence.

I am currently studying to become a music educator. I am also looking to teach both music and drama since those are both things I am passionate about.

Here, I will post about my interests, life events, and maybe even things that get a bit personal. That being said, I will not put warnings unless it is graphic. (Tag will be #shuteye if needed)

I enjoy music, the performing arts, parodies, dancing, singing, oddities, whimsy, pokemon, cosplay, internet horror, writing, creative projects, collecting CDs, puzzles, movies, photography, US history, politics, magic (illusions, practical, spells) old youtube, video games, collecting jewelry, dressing up, *crime cases, game shows, mysteries, aliens, cryptids, cats, urban legends, weird animals, makeup, jumpscares/screamers, shock sites and more..!

(*I do not support the glamourization and the insensitive commentary that is normally associated with this)

I am looking to make more friends! Particularly lgbt, otherkin/therian, just very fun overall, and weird. [PUT SOMETHING HERE]

I ask that you tag the following with #junobeware:

Alcoholism, Negative religious topics, Neglect, Emetophobia, Any kind of ab*se, Contamination/germ talk, Cutesy trauma dumping or kind of the "t*ktokification" of mental illnesses (ex: omg im so ocd) it just bothers me personally, nothing against anyone who does this.

Thank you in advance.

[paracosmicoweb]

Introduction

Paracosmico is a science fiction and surreal/psychological horror webcomic made by @teefsintheweb !!

STORY OUTLINE:

Zone is a child who was artificially created using the remains of a dead cosmic entity. He is accompanied by a newly sentient robot, both on a mission to learn more about the new world while guided by a higher being.

CONTENT WARNING

Agoraphobia, cannibalism, derealization, substance abuse, depersonalization, body horror, blood, eyestrain, bugs/insects, emetophobia, eyes/eye contact, religious themes, depression, anxiety, abuse, death and suicide.

The Paracosmico series is being created by just one person and is a passion project.

Animations and other types of videos are uploaded to Teefs YouTube channel.

TAGS:

"#Paracosmico Webcomic" (MAIN TAG)

"#Paracosmico [name]" (CHARACTERS)

Versión en español aquí!

(Here is the Teefs CARRD in case you want to find them on other sites.)

[daggersandarrows]

i am once again asking whoever puts the trigger warnings on dimension 20 episodes to understand how trigger warnings work. "misophonia" is not a good warning for their being "wet/squelching sounds". the correct warning for that. is. "wet/squelching sounds". you put "misophonia" when there is a discussion of/content focused around/a person actively displaying symptoms of misophonia.

you do not put "emetophobia" in a warning for "there will be vomit" unless there will also be emetophobia. it's just...not correct. i also find it personally really annoying when youtubers for example say shit like "if you have (phobia) then don't watch this video" or "if you have sexual trauma then don't watch this video" like bitch tell me what is in it and then i will decide. warning for the phobia that people may or may not have is just...unhelpful. i doubt that that's what d20 is doing directly, but it's tiring to me and feels like it deliberately strips away agency. i just wish they'd trigger tag correctly if they're going to do it at all.

[illusionlockarchive]

OH LADS I DID A GOOD FIND LAST NIGHT

So I was just scrolling n scrolling down my YouTube front page being like "man I don't wanna watch any of these lol" n eventually one of the vids that popped up was this like. Less than 1k views video of some Hannah Barbera looking cartoon character and by the title I was like. Uhhh uhm. Is this... a YouTube horror I've never heard of?

Sure enough, I clicked on the channel it was from, Chuckleful Pictures, and it seemed to have all the markings of your typical YouTube unfiction horror story. Particularly here it's told mostly through "found footage" of lost cartoons of the characters Charley and Edgar, and later a sheep named Barley joins the main gang as well...

I will say I REALLY like the art direction in this, from the character design to the way the medium is used to the storytelling used in dynamic ways to the changing angles and art styles... there's quite a lot of effort here for such a criminally underrated little series. As for the story itself I'm not gonna give much away, specially because it's pretty simple and easy to parse so far.

Will give general warnings though, which are: emetophobia, child harm, child death, domestic violence and alcohol abuse

I'm no big YouTuber guy at all, but with how underrated this thing is and how much it's captivated me and I think it deserves one of them deep dive analysis videos and if no one else is gonna do it, then I guess I will

[kait16xo]

Dance Moms: A New Era Thoughts (Episode 5)

Good news for retro ALDC fans—I have the 2003 program book in my collection! I’m pretty sure I have the link to my drive somewhere on tumblr but if not I will pin it!

As usual, spoilers under the cut :-) Additionally, there is an emetophobia warning during the competition so keep in mind

* “Every week, Audrey’s the center of some huge drama” oh the cons of being the favorite

* Wow Bella actually got a lower third already? It took Gianna so long to get hers

* Why tf would Gina even be on the top of the pyramid 😭 then again Glo is…well

* “Then they should work harder!” So should you 💀

* Leilah absolutely reading Glo is making me giggle. She might be my favorite rn

* Someone tell Mina and the other kids they don’t suck. God I’m so sick of this formula

* Wow Audrey’s actually where she belongs?? Did someone check Glo’s temperature??

* ASHLAN’S ON THE TOP WERK! She genuinely deserves it. That trio was phenomenal.

* “I guess they made up at the breakfast table” is so funny given additional context

* Mina getting a solo amidst the Gina v. Audrey showdown: :D

* Mina’s interview about the group 😭 these kids are so silly I love them

* Poor Smiley. Not everyone can turn well but that doesn’t make her any less of a dancer. It sucks to see her so defeated

* Domenica crying in front of her kid lowkey gives me the ick but I get it at the same time

* Omg Rachelle Rak’s in this episode werk

* Them making snow angels before rehearsal is so cute

* HOLY SHIT AUDREY’S DOING A PRISCILLA PRESLEY SOLO? I JUST SAW HER AT A CON LAST WEEKEND

* “Elvis…” *starts moonwalking* “Wait that’s Michael Jackson” me too queen

* “Priscilla was only 14 when she met Elvis?…ew” good girl Audrey lol

* That zoom into Tammi in her interview took me clean out

* Gina’s doing a solo she already knows and the kids are going feral as expected

* Aww Mina and her Teddy 😭 stop it. Leave her teddy alone

* I find it so hard to believe this kid can be a brat lol

* This costume is rly cute

* “She’s doing the group dance” without the group is insane. Also YES GIRLS you get into that solo rehearsal

* Poor Smiley works so hard only to be benched :/ at least

* “Why did I have to join the team?” MY HEART

* Mina basically saying “idgaf” about her teammates is wild

* “Dan how much time do I have left I need to go poopy?” These interviews man lol

* WE WERE SO CLOSE TO AN EP WITHOUT ASHLAN CRYING COME ON

* Why tf would Gina and Jing say no to and opportunity from their teacher 💀 y’all need to be so serious

* Tammi playing a game with the kids to get them away from the drama was rly smart and I have a lot of respect for her now

* The juxtaposition of them playing mid fight is also rly funny thank you tammi

* Holy shit vomit jumpscare 😭

* “Welcome Gina” girl I’d fucking kms

* If your child is getting actively sick about the idea of giving away her security item then maybe don’t rush her into giving it up! There’s a fucking concept! Take her to a child therapist or something (:

* Ok so I had to switch to youtube mid episode so I had to watch Mina’s solo in PURE SILENCE LMAO. She still ate tho idc

* Mina’s emotional execution for her age is phenomenal

* Ok update we have the SLIGHTEST bit of audio for Gina’s solo but the quality is so bad lol

* THAT LEG HOLD TURN WAS PHENOMENAL OK MISS GIRL

* This kid genuinely dances like an angel

* Audrey smacking the camera…real asf

* That veil is cool as fuck. I also love her costume

* I cannot get past these audio cuts the youtube version has LMFAO

* The aerial at the end was not needed but she ate that emotional execution UPPPPP

* Poor Gina getting no kudos from her friends makes me sad. She did so beautifully too and she needs told that

* Glo’s voice was fighting for its life LOL. Also s/o to her for giving Gina SOME praise lol

* Level of unbothered: Smiley eating snacks bc she’s cut from the dance

* I love these costumes

* I knew Gina was gonna get the overall lol. She was so good

* Audrey…baby…it was just better choreographically. Tone it down

* They got first place group we’re so back

* “Nobody lost!” Omg all the solos got first? Work

* If Gina coming in causes a girl to get benched every week then your teacher isn’t good at her job. Follow me for more hot takes.

[mosspapi]

(Emetophobia tw lol) Hhhhhhhhhhh the YouTube video I'm watching just. Unprompted and without warning. Showed like 15 whole seconds of someone throwing up. And now I think I'm going to either throw up myself or throw myself over the cliff behind our house. Possibly both.