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drinkinboilingcoffee · 18 days

Note

Could you maybe tell us a bit more about remnant hunger? It seems like such a cool idea

Rubs hands together evilly like a small housefly Eheheeheheh (It’s easiest to explain if I just do an in-depth explanation of my au version of remnant, so this is some of that as well. The most important thing to understand is that remnant is NOT the same thing as soul.) REALLY long post ahead.

So the way remnant works in my au is that it’s a naturally occurring metal in the bodies of most living things (like iron or something) with a simple purpose: to bind the soul to its body. It’s found all throughout the system, but is concentrated most in the brain and nervous system (and the smarter an animal is, the more remnant there is binding its consciousness). So you want to make a ghost, huh? To do that you need a soul, a lot of remnant (different surfaces like metal hold onto remnant better) and a part of their body that the process will transfer the soul from. In areas with enough remnant, ghosts can happen naturally if there’s enough remnant in whatever part of the victim binds to a surface (Evan with the brain matter when his skull was crushed, Charlie with spinal fluid when she was stabbed in the neck). Remnant also has a relatively low melting temp (its liquid in the human body) and unbinds if it heats up to its gas state.

Now, living things constantly gain and lose enough remnant in their systems through the natural process of eating, drinking and breathing that running seriously low is hard to do without already being on the brink of succumbing to hunger and exhaustion. But spirits? Whatever they possess (be it an animatronic or corpse) exists in a much more passive state. They lose remnant, but it’s harder to gain it without digestion or circulation. It takes a while, but day by day their soul slowly unwinds from their body. The symptoms tend to present themselves as an intense hunger accompanied by a lack of self control that progresses into the eventual point of completely uncontrollable aggression. You can stave it off for a while, but in the end the only way to end the hunger is to sate it with concentrated remnant- aka human flesh.

You don’t necessarily have to kill someone for it (Mike probably breaks into morgues and such for the most part), but the longer something is dead, the less remnant it has. The guard bodies they recover from failed night shifts aren’t usually very intact almost entirely as a result of the animatronics feeding, Elizabeth gets a cut of the remnant from what she catches from Circus Baby’s capture mechanism, etc. William specifically was pretty fucked up by this, since he went like 30 years without more than the occasional rat to eat, so that whole time was in a sort of hunger-driven half conscious stupor (whoever unearthed him definitely got fucking eaten) which is why he’s so unhinged in fnaf 3 and much more ‘human’ in fnaf 6.

Mike was definitely pretty hard hit by the whole thing because: A) he has to pose as a human being and get along as normally as possible in society. B) he already has a lot of internalized fear of hurting people, and having a deep desire to bite Jeremy’s face off whenever he’s hungry doesn’t help. C) guy works at Fazbear Entertainment, he’s around blood and bodies all the time and he has to physically force himself not to just go batshit crazy. Good news, he can at least access already dead bodies somewhat consistently so he’s not running around murdering people, bad news is pretty good odds he snapped and ate a coworker once and got an extra layer of trauma on top of the ever growing pile.

#fnaf #fnaf au #michael afton #Sleepwalking insomniac #My au #tw cannibalism #tw body horror #?#Tw gore text #Text post #au lore

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itsdefinitely · 4 months

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nibbly needs to bite someone’s arm. it doesn’t matter who, he just needs to bite

i hope that wasn't anyone important

#nibblenephim #lords in black #hatchetfield #tw blood #tw gore #id in alt text #definitely art #if you know the tbh creature image im referencing i love you forever and ever. one might say forever & always

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void-of-unparalled-chaos · 7 months

Text

Rending Flesh From the Bone

Ah yes, the dpxdc "drabble" I decided to write for Halloween. Honestly not too enthused with how it came out but posting it anyway. I feel like some parts feel a bit rushed and there might be some plotholes. Oh well. As always, feel free to add on if you so desire.

TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Vomiting, Zalgo Text

Translations for the Zalgo are available at the end.

AO3 version

“Are you sure about this, Hood?”

Dick stared at the entrance of the abandoned subway tunnel, Jason practically vibrating out of his armor beside him.

For once, it was Jason who had broken into Dick’s apartment and not the other way around. He was rambling something about the Joker and needing Dick’s help, and who was Dick to say no? His little brother never sought him out on his own, let alone asked for his help. Never. Dick was so proud! If he rewarded this behavior then maybe Jason would do it again, and somehow that would lead to Dick being able to give him his highly sought-after best big brother hugs whenever he wanted. Dick was still figuring out the intermediate steps.

The point is that Dick needed to help him, regardless of if this was all based on a gut feeling and not even a whisper that the Joker was around let alone planning anything. What the hell, Dick thought. Sometimes gut feelings are right, and push comes to shove, Dick will follow Red Hood around Gotham until his paranoia dies down. Then Dick can lovingly bully him into brother bonding time.

So here they were, staring into the gaping mouth of an unused tunnel.

There are worse ways he could have spent his night.

Jason grunts, fists clenched as they gaze into the blackness. “It’s almost Halloween. You know how these freaks get this time of year.”

Dick concedes the point.

“Come on,” Jason bumps against his shoulder as he stalks toward the blackness, “He’s down there I just know it.”

Dick shrugs and follows him in.

Something about it is oppressive. Like something is warning them to turn back or face the consequences. Dick swallows. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over this. He had been in closed dark spaces like this before, tighter ones even!

“Dick.”

Jason is pointing to the ground. Dark splatters. Blood. Fresh, and more than just a little nosebleed.

They make their way further in, following the convenient blood trail even as the urge to turn around gets stronger. They only walk a few feet before a loud scream breaks the silence.

“I fucking told ya Nightwing!”

Dick grunts in response as they sprint down the tunnel, following the blood down twists and turns.

The two vigilantes slide to a stop as the tunnel breaks into a new one. There is something in this new tunnel. Something large and glowing. The Joker is screaming as it bats him around.

Dick can’t bring himself to do anything but freeze, watching and assessing.

The first thing he sees is the crown. It floats crookedly above the creature’s white hair, bathing the tunnel in light with its green fiery glow. The being’s face almost looks humanoid, with long ears tapering into points. Its body is long and spindly like a man who had been left starving on an island for several weeks. The vertebrae in its neck are visible even underneath its skin. The spinous processes of the vertebrae break through the flesh, creating a long row of protruding bones that clack and rattle as the spine moves. Its pelvis juts out as if only a thin layer of skin is covering it. The ribcage is on the outside of its body like some kind of fucked up turtle shell. Space was underneath it, the purples and blues of nebulas and the blackness of night and twinkling stars and planets rested underneath the bones.

The creature has the Joker by the neck. It reminds Dick of a cat Damian had fostered, one that had kittens and would carry them gently between her jaws. There is nothing gentle about this though. Red blood drips down to the ground as the Joker thrashes to try and free himself. The jaws tighten viciously around him and the creature shakes, flinging him around like a chew toy before slamming him down into the ground with a growl.

A skull flashes underneath its face as if its skin and cartilage are merely a transparent overlay. Sharp, jagged bone peaks rise up smoothly from its mandible in a mimicry of teeth.

The creature’s jaws are still wrapped around the Joker’s throat. He’s scrambling, screeching underneath the being despite the teeth that should be cutting into his vocal cords. The Joker scratches at its chest, trying to push it away. It merely makes a low staticky hissing noise, one of its hands pinning him down by the shoulder.

The other arm raises upwards in the air. It's too long for the body of the creature, fingers tapering into sharp points.

The claws slash downwards.

The Joker choked on a scream as the digits tore his chest open like it were tissue paper. Mouth still wrapped around his throat, the being flipped a flap of skin and fat upwards like it was turning the page of a book.

The Joker continued to struggle, blood and something green gurgling out of his mouth. The being maneuvered itself until it crouched to Joker’s side, twisting his neck with it.

The Joker stilled.

At first, Dick thought he was dead, but then he saw movement inside his chest wound.

His lungs.

His lungs were still moving.

Dick can see his lungs breathing.

The creature reaches its hand back down into the Joker’s chest, wrenching the ribcage open with a snap. The Joker begins to struggle once more, red blood and green liquid splattering on the ground.

One of the clawed hands replaced its teeth, pinning the Joker’s head down as it stuck its face inside the chest cavity. The Joker suddenly froze. When its face remerged a glowing violet orb was held between its teeth. Red and green dripped from its face.

The green was familiar.

Glowing green.

…

…Lazarus water?

The tooth-like protrusions pierce the orb with a crack.

The Joker falls silent.

His lungs are no longer moving.

The being’s head tilts back, the shattered orb disappearing down its gullet. It hunches back down over the corpse. The slimy wet sounds of its hands and head digging into the body are sickening. Dick watches as its head remerges with what looks like a kidney. The kidney follows the orb.

Dick snaps out of his shock, but not quick enough to muffle his strangled gasp.

The being catches sight of them, green eyes, lazarus green, boring into them. Dick can see the dark hollows of the skull’s orbits underneath them. His head pounds.

The creature began to stand. Its joints, too many joints, creaked as it unfolded its legs. It seemed like it struggled to maneuver its stiff limbs. Like it’s fighting against rigor mortis Dick noted absently.

Now standing at full height, the being’s crown nearly scraped the top of the ten-foot ceiling. Its maw parted, blue vapor billowing out between the spiked protrusions that were its teeth. The putrid stench of death and burning flesh that invaded the tunnel had Dick gagging. He quietly covered his mouth as he tried to bite back the bile in his throat.

He glanced back at his brother to find that Jason had taken a step back. It was impossible to see his expression under the helmet, but Dick could read the tightening of his shoulders. Fear. Deep, primal fear. The kind of fear you feel when you know there are no more options. When you know fighting or running is pointless.

Here, at this moment, the infamous Red Hood looked less like a feared crime lord vigilante and more like a one-week-old gazelle face to face with a lion.

Dick reached to pull Jason out of sight but the pounding between his eyes made him uncoordinated. He tripped over his own feet and crashed into Jason’s side, gripping his shoulder with shaking fingers as he righted himself. Jason didn’t budge, remaining stock still despite the extra weight of his older brother against him.

The creature stared at them, the piercing green glow of its eyes brightening with a spur of power. Its head tilted to the side until it came to rest at well over ninety degrees. A pointed, frostbitten tongue lolled out between its teeth to lick its bloodied face clean.

“C̷o̷m̶p̴a̵n̵y̵?̵” It sounded like the desolation of space, the static of electricity, the explosion of a star, the final screech before death.

The space trapped in its chest began to bleed through its ribs, twinkling stars and asteroids and galaxies escaping the confines of their prison to drip down the being’s waist. It ran over its legs, building and thickening until a long serpentine tail had replaced the limbs entirely. Even as the coils moved, the stars and planets stayed in place as if the tail was merely a window. Watching it made Dick motion sick.

Even as the elongated spines stretching out of its back clanked together in the mimicry of a death rattle, the creature made no move toward them. Another puff of foul-smelling mist escaped its mouth.

“Y̶o̷u̸ ̶s̵h̴o̷u̴l̵d̶ ̴b̶e̵ ̸m̴o̴r̷e̸ ̴c̷a̴r̸e̴f̴u̷l̵,̷ ̸l̴i̴t̷t̶l̷e̸ ̶g̶h̸o̷s̴t̶l̷i̸n̷g̸.̸” It’s voice boomed, “Y̴o̸u̵ ̶a̸r̶e̵ ̷n̷o̶ ̷m̵a̸t̸c̶h̴ ̷f̴o̵r̴ ̸m̶o̵s̷t̷ ̴s̸p̵i̴r̴i̷t̴s̴ ̵a̸s̸ ̷y̵o̵u̵n̷g̴ ̴a̷s̶ ̶y̶o̵u̶ ̷a̸r̵e̵.̷ ̷E̶s̸p̷e̸c̵i̶a̶l̴l̷y̶ ̶n̴o̵t̷ ̴o̶n̴ ̶S̵a̶m̷h̷a̶i̷n̷.̶”

The two brothers remained frozen in place. The stars in its tail flickered until millions of eyes were boring into Dick’s soul. With a stuttering gasp, Dick stepped back again. Jason refused to budge despite his urging. The next time Dick blinked the eyes were stars again.

The being chuckled at them, “N̵o̴ ̴n̶e̸e̵d̷ ̵t̵o̶ ̵f̸e̸a̶r̵,̸ ̵g̸h̵o̶s̶t̶l̸i̴n̴g̶.̸ ̴I̸ ̵d̴o̵ ̷n̶o̶t̴ ̶w̶i̸s̵h̴ ̵y̸o̴u̸ ̷n̷o̵r̴ ̸y̴o̶u̴r̸ ̴f̵r̸a̷i̵d̷ ̴h̵a̵r̷m̸.̶” Dick found that hard to believe considering that they had just watched it eat the Joker’s kidney, “Y̸o̵u̴ ̸a̷r̴e̵ ̵v̵e̸r̸y̶ ̴l̵u̶c̸k̶y̴ ̶i̶t̵ ̴w̷a̴s̴ ̴m̶e̵ ̸w̴h̷o̸ ̸y̶o̷u̵ ̷c̸a̸m̷e̴ ̵a̶c̴r̷o̸s̸s̵ ̶r̸a̴t̷h̷e̵r̸ ̷t̵h̵a̷n̴ ̴a̵n̷o̴t̶h̶e̶r̵ ̷s̴p̷i̸r̸i̴t̸.̵ ̷M̶a̷n̶y̶ ̵w̴o̸u̶l̴d̸ ̷h̸a̶v̸e̷ ̵e̷a̷t̴e̴n̵ ̸y̸o̴u̶ ̴b̵y̷ ̵n̴o̴w̶.̴”

“I-” Jason finally choked out, “What?”

The being lowered itself until it was at eye level with Jason. It evaluated him once more before jerking back with what seemed to be an expression of surprise. “O̷h̷ ̸l̵i̶t̷t̵l̷e̵ ̴g̴h̴o̶s̴t̴,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̴ ̸a̴r̵e̸ ̵m̴u̸c̴h̴ ̸y̸o̷u̸n̴g̴e̴r̶ ̵t̶h̷a̶n̸ ̶I̵ ̵h̸a̷d̸ ̴t̵h̵o̵u̸g̸h̵t̵!̵ ̴Y̴o̵u̶r̵ ̷c̵o̴r̸e̵ ̵i̴s̴ ̷n̸e̷w̶ ̶a̷n̷d̵ ̸u̶n̶d̴e̷r̵n̴o̸u̸r̶i̶s̸h̵e̴d̴.̶ ̸N̴o̵ ̴w̸o̴n̸d̵e̶r̶ ̷I̷ ̴h̵a̸d̴ ̷n̵o̷t̴ ̴s̸e̸n̴s̵e̵d̵ ̸y̸o̶u̶ ̶b̷e̵f̵o̷r̷e̶!̴ ̶H̵a̵v̷e̶ ̶y̶o̷u̴ ̷b̵e̵e̵n̵ ̶e̸a̷t̸i̷n̴g̶?̸”

Its tone seemed almost doting, motherly even. The image was broken by the fact that it was currently leaning closer toward them, supporting itself on what was left of the Joker’s exposed ribcage.

Jason shook his head in dumbfounded horror.

The creature seemed to take it as an answer, humming in what felt like parental disappointment. “Y̶o̶u̷ ̵n̵e̴e̴d̸ ̶t̷o̷ ̷t̶a̵k̸e̵ ̷b̴e̸t̵t̵e̸r̶ ̷c̸a̶r̸e̴ ̶o̷f̶ ̸y̴o̴u̴r̵s̸e̷l̶f̴,̴ ̵l̷i̸t̴t̷l̶e̵ ̶g̶h̵o̸s̵t̴.̵ ̵I̵'̴v̸e̴ ̴n̵e̸v̴e̶r̸ ̸s̵e̵e̵n̷ ̴s̵u̶c̵h̵ ̸a̶n̴ ̸u̶n̷d̷e̸r̶n̶o̴u̸r̸i̸s̵h̸e̵d̶ ̷c̶o̶r̷e̴.̸ ̷Y̷o̶u̴ ̸m̴u̶s̷t̷ ̸b̷e̷ ̷a̵b̵l̷e̸ ̴t̸o̴ ̸f̸e̸e̶l̷ ̸t̶h̵e̸ ̸e̸f̷f̵e̷c̷t̵s̴.̶ ̵A̴r̴e̴ ̶y̴o̴u̶ ̴i̵n̸ ̸p̸a̵i̴n̶?̴”

Dick knew that he was. If it wasn’t the emotional torment of the pit madness it was chronic pain. There had been many nights where he had to tend to his brother, trying everything from painkillers to ice packs to numbing cream in an attempt to stop it.

Jason nodded hesitantly, “Yes…” he took his helmet off, letting it drop to the ground. His eyes were burning lazarus green, “It hurts all the time… like there’s a fire burning in my chest. It gets hotter and hotter and hotter until I feel like my brain is gonna melt outta my ears.”

The creature slithered closer with a rumbling coo. It offered a hand to Jason. Its fingers curled unnaturally. It looked like it had an extra knuckle. “C̷o̷m̷e̴ ̵h̸e̷r̸e̴,̵ ̸g̴h̷o̴s̵t̷l̷i̸n̸g̶.̴ ̴I̷ ̷w̶i̴l̶l̸ ̸s̸h̴a̸r̸e̴ ̷m̶y̶ ̸c̷a̴t̵c̶h̴.̷ ̷I̵ ̷c̵a̴n̷ ̶s̶e̴n̴s̴e̵ ̸t̵h̴e̸ ̵c̴o̵n̷n̸e̵c̴t̶i̷o̷n̷ ̶t̴h̴i̵s̵ ̷r̸e̸v̷e̷n̴a̴n̸t̴ ̴h̴a̶s̸ ̸t̷o̷ ̸y̶o̶u̵.̶ ̷A̸s̸ ̵y̷o̷u̶r̴ ̷k̷i̵l̸l̶e̶r̶,̶ ̵f̵e̸a̵s̷t̴i̴n̸g̶ ̸o̴n̷ ̵h̵i̷m̶ ̸w̷i̴l̵l̵ ̴h̷a̸v̶e̷ ̶e̸x̶t̸r̶a̴ ̶b̶e̷n̸e̵f̸i̵t̷s̴.̸”

Jason reaches out to accept the hand. Dick throws himself between them, “Little Wing, what the hell! You aren’t seriously going to… you're not…”

“I… I need it, Dick.” Jason wiped drool from his lips. Dick caught the flash of fanged teeth, sharper than they should have been. “I don’t know how to explain it but I just- I’m so fucking hungry.”

Dick… Dick wasn’t scared of Jason. He wasn’t. But at that moment, he felt like he needed to run. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t abandon his little brother to this…thing.

“I̸ ̵u̶n̵d̴e̸r̶s̸t̵a̷n̴d̵ ̷y̶o̴u̶r̴ ̸a̵p̶p̷r̸e̶h̴e̷n̶s̷i̵o̸n̵.̵” the being addressed him, Dick struggled to look it in the eyes, the pounding of his head increasing, “A̶s̷ ̷a̷ ̶l̴i̷v̵i̴n̷g̴ ̷i̸t̸ ̴f̴e̵e̶l̸s̷ ̴w̷r̶o̶n̶g̵,̶ ̶s̴i̶c̵k̴e̴n̴i̶n̵g̴ ̶e̴v̷e̷n̸.̷ ̴I̸t̷ ̵t̷o̸o̶k̷ ̸m̵e̴ ̶a̶ ̷l̶o̸n̴g̸ ̸t̵i̴m̷e̵ ̵t̵o̸ ̷c̵o̵m̶e̶ ̶t̶o̴ ̷t̷e̸r̷m̸s̸ ̸w̶i̶t̴h̸ ̴i̸t̴.̷ ̵I̶ ̴u̸n̵d̶e̵r̷s̸t̶a̴n̶d̸.̸ ̴B̷u̴t̵ ̴i̵t̷ ̸i̵s̷ ̸s̸o̵m̸e̸t̷h̶i̸n̷g̶ ̷o̷u̸r̵ ̷s̴p̸e̷c̷i̵e̵s̸ ̷n̸e̸e̶d̵s̸.̵ ̸S̵u̶r̸e̷l̸y̶ ̴y̷o̷u̴ ̸m̶u̷s̴t̷ ̴h̴a̸v̸e̷ ̷w̴i̴t̸n̴e̸s̴s̵e̶d̸ ̶t̴h̷e̴ ̴e̴f̴f̶e̷c̴t̴s̶ ̶o̴f̴ ̶s̵t̶a̶r̴v̷a̸t̶i̶o̶n̴ ̵o̴n̸ ̸y̵o̷u̶r̷ ̶f̵r̵a̶i̷d̸m̶a̷t̶e̸?̵”

Moments flash through Dick’s head. Jason breathes as he struggles against the pit so hard that Dick starts to worry his brother will pop a lung. Jason looked at the remains of another destroyed glass in dismay, before practically sprinting to hole himself up somewhere Dick couldn’t find him. Jason sobs into his shirt, begging him to make it stop, to take the pain away as Dick watches on helplessly.

“I̷t̵ ̷w̸i̷l̵l̶ ̵o̷n̶l̵y̷ ̷g̷e̵t̵ ̷w̴o̸r̴s̸e̶ ̶i̷f̷ ̶h̴e̷ ̷d̵o̶e̶s̴n̸'̶t̷ ̸e̵a̶t̴.̵ ̶E̴v̶e̵n̵t̸u̴a̴l̸l̵y̸,̸ ̵t̴h̴e̵ ̵s̶t̶a̶r̴v̷a̵t̶i̸o̵n̵ ̸w̴i̷l̵l̵ ̶b̴e̶ ̶s̶o̷ ̸b̷a̶d̸ ̷h̷i̸s̵ ̴c̷o̴r̵e̵ ̷w̷i̸l̷l̴ ̷s̷e̵l̸f̵-̷c̴a̷n̴n̷i̵b̷a̶l̵i̵z̴e̷.̵”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I̶ ̷a̵m̵ ̷K̶i̶n̷g̷ ̷P̶h̵a̴n̸t̵o̶m̵ ̵o̸f̷ ̵t̶h̴e̸ ̶I̴n̶f̶i̵n̷i̶t̸e̶ ̶R̷e̶a̸l̴m̷s̴,̷ ̶t̴h̷e̶ ̵A̸n̶c̵i̶e̵n̶t̵ ̵o̵f̵ ̵S̸p̸a̶c̸e̸,̶ ̶P̷r̸o̶t̶e̴c̵t̸o̷r̷ ̴o̶f̷ ̶t̷h̸e̸ ̵L̷i̸v̵i̷n̸g̸ ̸a̵n̷d̴ ̸D̷e̸a̴d̴,̷ ̷t̵h̷e̴ ̶O̸n̸e̴ ̸W̶h̶o̶ ̷L̷i̴e̴s̷ ̸I̴n̶ ̴B̴e̷t̸w̴e̵e̴n̵,̷ ̶t̴h̶e̷ ̴K̵i̴n̶g̵ ̸o̷f̶ ̶G̶h̷o̴s̸t̷s̵.̴” What almost looks like a smile splits across his face, “I̴f̸ ̶I̶ ̴w̵e̶r̴e̵ ̷n̵o̸t̵ ̶a̴w̷a̸r̷e̶ ̶o̶f̵ ̶m̷y̸ ̵p̶e̴o̶p̷l̴e̸'̵s̵ ̸n̷e̶e̴d̵s̵ ̷I̴ ̶w̵o̷u̸l̵d̴ ̷b̴e̶ ̴a̸ ̷v̴e̵r̵y̷ ̷p̴o̸o̷r̸ ̴k̶i̸n̷g̸ ̶i̵n̶d̷e̸e̷d̴.̸”

Dick turns back to Jason. His brother hasn’t looked this small since before his death. He’s shaking. He looks desperate.

Dick steps to the side.

Jason lets out a stuttering breath but remains still otherwise, hands clenched at his sides.

The newly dubbed King Phantom returns to the corpse, digging through fluid and meat. “I̴f̷ ̸i̴t̷ ̷i̶s̴ ̸a̸n̸y̴ ̵c̴o̵n̸s̸o̵l̶a̸t̷i̷o̵n̶,̷ ̵h̶e̵ ̷w̶i̴l̵l̵ ̸n̴o̷t̸ ̶n̷e̸e̶d̴ ̵t̶o̵ ̶e̸a̵t̴ ̴o̷f̴t̶e̸n̶.̸ ̸O̵n̴c̸e̸ ̴o̸r̴ ̸t̶w̷i̴c̸e̵ ̷e̸v̷e̸r̸y̶ ̷f̴i̶f̸t̵y̶ ̵y̸e̷a̴r̶s̶ ̸o̷r̴ ̷s̴o̵ ̷s̵h̵o̶u̶l̵d̶ ̸b̶e̸ ̸e̴n̸o̵u̸g̵h̴ ̶t̸o̶ ̸k̶e̴e̵p̶ ̴h̶i̶m̷ ̶r̸e̴l̶a̷t̷i̸v̶e̷l̶y̸ ̵h̶e̵a̸l̶t̸h̶y̴.̶“ He pulls out the Joker's liver with bloody claws. "C̷o̴m̷e̵ ̶h̵e̸r̸e̷,̵ ̷g̸h̵o̴s̷t̷l̵i̸n̴g̸," he purrs, offering it to Jason as if it were an apple instead of a human organ, "I̴ ̴k̴n̶o̷w̸ ̷y̸o̴u̵'̶r̵e̷ ̴h̶u̶n̷g̶r̸y̷.̶ ̵T̴h̵e̸ ̷e̶c̴t̴o̵p̷l̶a̶s̷m̷ ̸i̴n̴ ̶h̷e̷r̴e̵ ̵w̵i̵l̵l̴ ̵h̵e̴l̶p̵ ̵b̵o̵o̸s̶t̵ ̸y̶o̵u̵r̵ ̷o̸w̷n̸ ̶e̶c̷t̴o̴ ̸p̶r̶o̷d̴u̷c̴t̴i̶o̴n̵.̵"

Jason reaches for it, eyes flicking uncertainly between the liver and the creature’s eyes. Despite everything, Dick almost hopes that he will suddenly come to his senses, slap the hand away, and leap backward gagging in disgust.

Instead, he wraps a couple of fingers around one of King Phantom’s. His tank of a brother looks minuscule in comparison. Jason stares up at the being with wide eyes, like a child presented with cotton candy.

“Are you sure I can have it?”

King Phantom’s chest lets out another deep rumbling purr. “T̶h̷e̴ ̶l̴o̷s̵s̵ ̴i̸s̴ ̵n̸o̴t̶ ̷a̷ ̷g̵r̷e̶a̵t̸ ̴o̷n̷e̴ ̵f̴o̶r̴ ̸m̴e̸.̴ ̵I̵ ̵a̶m̸ ̷p̷o̸w̵e̷r̶f̸u̸l̸ ̵e̶n̸o̶u̷g̷h̵ ̷t̵o̴ ̶s̷u̷r̸v̴i̸v̸e̸ ̵o̷f̵f̶ ̷a̷m̴b̷i̶e̸n̵t̸ ̸e̸c̷t̵o̷p̷l̵a̵s̶m̸ ̸a̶n̸d̴ ̴e̸m̸o̶t̷i̵o̴n̸s̶ ̴l̴o̷n̷g̶e̸r̸ ̴t̸h̸a̵n̸ ̴o̶t̴h̵e̸r̸s̷.̷ ̸B̶e̵s̶i̸d̸e̸s̴,̶ ̴t̵h̵e̶r̴e̷ ̸w̴i̴l̷l̷ ̴a̷l̴w̴a̵y̷s̷ ̵b̸e̴ ̸a̵n̶o̷t̸h̴e̷r̴ ̸c̶r̶i̶m̷i̴n̶a̵l̵ ̸t̴o̸ ̷h̶u̸n̵t̵.̵”

Jason snatches the liver with burning green eyes. The organ wobbles in his hands. To Dick’s dismay, Jason takes a large eager bite. His expression can only be described as blissed relief like he had just tasted ambrosia. He goes in for another, larger bite before he has even swallowed the first, jaw unhinging like a snake.

Dick is never eating Jello again.

He watches with detachment as Jason takes a third bite of the liver. His brother’s mouth is painted in red and green like a facsimile of King Phantom’s. For the first time, Jason’s chest stutteringly hums in relieved glee. King Phantom purrs in return as he tucks his face back into the corpse, like some sort of horrific feedback loop.

Dick tries to focus on something else, anything else, but the iron stench of blood and burning flesh is inescapable. He tries to avert his eyes away from the gorey pile of what used to be the Joker as his brother and the creature tear into it. The stars that makeup King Phantom’s tail stare at him. They blink. A sharp pain shoots behind his eyes as he shuts them tightly.

It feels like he loses time.

When he opens them again, his brother is gnawing flesh off a rib. The entire front of his body is caked in red and green. King Phantom is staring at him with piercing green eyes. Intestines dangle from between its jaws. Its tongue maneuvers them further into its mouth like they are spaghetti noodles.

The bile rises in his throat again. Dick retches against the wall. He wipes the acid from his mouth and leans his forehead against the brick. The coolness of the stone eases the pain zinging between his eyes. He can still hear the squelching of meat and snapping of bone behind him.

A noise of concern sounds from his brother.

Dick turns back in the direction of the horror show, keeping his eyes squeezed tight.

King Phantom hums in thought. “P̴e̷r̷h̷a̶p̶s̶ ̴i̷t̸ ̵w̶i̷l̴l̷ ̸b̵e̵ ̸e̶a̵s̵i̵e̴r̸ ̶i̷f̴ ̸y̴o̵u̸ ̷w̵a̵i̴t̸ ̶o̷u̸t̵s̶i̵d̵e̷.̸”

“Y-yeah.” Dick nods, voice cracking. “I think I’ll just… do that.”

Jason makes a noise of acknowledgment.

Another bone snaps.

Dick quickly makes his way back the way they had come. He stops briefly to vomit again, though there is nothing left in his stomach to throw up. When he emerges from the tunnel entrance he gasps on fresh Gotham air. He wraps his arms tight around himself with shaking fingers as he tries to steady his breathing. With the absence of the creature the pain in his head steadily fades away, though the images of bloody organs and sounds of desperate screaming remain persistent.

He’s not sure how long he waits outside, but it's long enough that he begins to worry something happened to Jason. He begins to wonder if the creature pinned him down like it had the Joker, restaining him with his neck between its fangs. What would Dick even do? How could he save his brother from that… thing?

Jason remerges before he can figure it out. He’s clean of any visible blood or lazarus water, but the acrid tang of death and gore follows him.

Jason pleadingly stares at him through the eyes of his helmet.

Dick nods.

They don’t speak of it again.

______________________

Zalgo Translations...

"Company?"

"You should be more careful, little ghostling."

"You are no match for most spirits as young as you are. Especially not on Samhain."

"No need to fear, ghostling. I do not wish you nor your fraid harm."

"You are very lucky it was me who you came across rather than some other spirit. Many would have eaten you by now."

"Oh little ghost, you are much younger than I had thought! Your core is new and undernourished. No wonder I had not sensed you before! Have you been eating?"

"You need to take better care of yourself, little ghost. I've never seen such an undernourished core. You must be able to feel the effects. Are you in pain?"

"Come here, ghostling. I will share my catch. I can sense the connection this revenant has to you. As your killer, feasting on him will have extra benefits."

"I understand your apprehension."

"As a living it feels wrong, sickening even. It took me a long time to come to terms with it. I understand. But it is something our species needs. Surely you must have witnessed the effects of starvation on your fraidmate?"

"It will only get worse if he doesn't eat. Eventually, the starvation will be so bad his core will self-cannibalize."

"I am King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, the Ancient of Space, Protector of the Living and Dead, the One Who Lies In Between, the King of Ghosts."

"If I were not aware of my people's needs I would be a very poor king indeed."

"If it is any consolation, he will not need to eat often. Once or twice every fifty years or so should be enough to keep him relatively healthy. "

"Come here, ghostling,"

"I know you're hungry. The ectoplasm in here will help boost your own ecto production."

"The loss is not a great one for me. I am powerful enough to survive off ambient ectoplasm and emotions longer than others. Besides, there will always be another criminal to hunt."

"Perhaps it will be easier if you wait outside."

#baby ghost Jason Todd #stumbling face first into a predator that can absolutely rock his shit #only to get almost immediately adopted by it #family dinner is about to get a lot more interesting #dpxdc #ghost king danny #ghost king au #eldritch danny #tw gore #tw cannibalism #tw vomit #my writing #dpxdc fanfic #ghost cannibalism #zalgo text #ghosts can purr #me sticking my hands into the plotholes: “it has pockets :)”#RFFTB #ghost hunger

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nonetoon · 9 months

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Popping in again with a comic recommendation!

A Guest in the House by Emily Carroll is a very eerie and beautifully drawn graphic novel about a young woman adjusting to her new marriage and step-child (mostly by daydreaming about being a knight and rescuing the ghost of her husband’s late first wife who died under mysterious circumstance, as one does)

If you like ghosts, mysteries, and a punch-to-the-gut story, I highly recommend it!

#text #comic recommendations #comic recommendation #a guest in the house #blood tw #gore tw

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stinkrascal · 29 days

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vladislaus inspo for this post

TRANSCRIPT

picture 2 Victim: Please, let me go. I won't say anything.

picture 3 Nadia: I know, you won't. Soon, you won't have the tongue to speak. Helena: Hurry this up, Nadia. Y'all said this would be quick.

picture 4 Inessa: Aw, how precious. Don't tell me you're getting squeamish. Helena: Ain't nothing about being squeamish, I got things to do. Yakov: Those bastard students can wait! Inessa: Relax, we're having fun.

picture 5 Victim: Please, oh, God, please, just let me go. Marcellus: Hah! I love it when the meat squeals.

picture 6 Marcellus: Sing for me, piggy!

picture 7 Nadia: At ease, friend. Helena is right. Only children play with their food. Go on. Open the cage.

picture 8 Marcellus: So he lives! Vladislaus: Ugh.

picture 10 Marcellus: You've finally come out of your hole? Yakov: Hah! Must've been a great hole! Vladislaus: Ugh.

picture 11 Yakov: You missed a lively dinner, Vlad. You better make it to the next one, boy. Vladislaus: ... Yakov: Oh, apologies. I forgot you don't eat people, or whatever puritanical brainrot you're espousing this century.

picture 12 Inessa: I've missed you, pretty boy. When will you visit the parlor again? Frankie misses you. Vladislaus: Unhand me at once. Inessa: oh, and you're so gaunt. You need a proper meal.

picture 13 Helena: I'm leading the next hunt. You should join us. Vladislaus: You are leading? I thought—

picture 14 Helena: Things change, Vladislaus.

picture 15 Vladislaus: Stop pestering me, all of you. I have no time for antics. I must speak to the headmaster at once.

picture 16 Nadia: Where are your manners, my dear boy? Vladislaus: I am a grown man. Nadia: I know, darling—and look at how grown you are! Did you visit the wizards again? You look taller. Vladislaus: Ugh.

picture 17 Nadia: Always with your pouting. Why don't you try smiling, my dear? Vladislaus: I asked for a moment of your time, headmaster, not your condescension.

picture 18 Nadia: [ giggling ] Don't headmaster me, boy. Pardon us. This may take a while.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #straud: all #straud: standstill #ts4 story #vladislaus straud #oc: nadia amrani #oc: helena whitlock #oc: inessa kurti #oc: yakov petrova #oc: marcellus luong #gore tw #blood tw #🌱#??? idk what to tag this as. lmk if i need to add tags #i am NOT! responsible for how this post looks on mobile #in case you're confused. white text = nadia / yellow text = helena / red text = inessa / green text = yakov / blue text = marcellus #and orange text is vlad :) there's also transcripts for all my posts under the cut if u ever need them!!

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raaindropps · 3 days

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Day meeting his prototype. Not a fan

[ID: A three-page comic of an OC, Day, and his previous design, Protoday. Day is smaller in stature, has short, black and white striped hair, and is chinese. Protoday is taller, has pushed back purple and yellow hair (Starting and purple and turning yellow through the comic), and is white.

The first page has warm and red tones. Day says "Hmm..." while staring at Protoday. The former is swearing profusely. Dat says "So... Yer sayin' that yer me, just... with color changing hair... white as the damn snow... an ass of the personality...". At this point Protoday thinks to himself, "How am I the asshole...?". His hair, previously entirely purple, now has hints of yellow.

Day continues, beginning to yell "And worst of all, yer like 15 manos?! Fuck is wrong wi'cha?! Sure, it ain't as tall as Yoki an' Ish, but really?! I mean, shit, I barely hit 13! And yer sayin' I coulda been 15 manos? The fuck kinda 'redesign' does that? The artist is just bein' lazy! An' the others are freakishly tall so it just makes me look shorter! What the hell?!"

In the corner of the page is text reading "1 mano = 12cm, 15 manos = 180cm, 13 manos = 156cm"

Page two begins with a simplified drawing of Protoday, now with even more yellow in his hair. Day is in the foreground still yelling, and Protoday thinks "This guy's a total cunt". Next, he looks to the side and says to Day, "But you have a brother, don't you? That's something good that you got. I'm an only child so..."

Day pauses. The colors suddenly become cool and slightly desaturated. Day looks horrified, staring at the camera and saying "What... Are you talking about?". It cuts to a fractured glass-style panel. Within the broken pieces are various images of Day's brother. It shows his hand cooking something, him looking forward, a stuffed animal plushie, him laying weakly on the ground, a zoom-in on his eye, looking scared, and finally his partiallt-decomposed body.

The third and final page has a more zoomed-out view of Day, with only his eyes drawn for facial features, staring directly at the viewer. The only colors are his skin, a bright red, and the darkness of the background. Day says "I don't have a brother". It cuts next to his eyes only, still staring.

Suddenly, Day looks normal again, saying "...ohhh, yer talkin' about Billy, ain't'cha? That lil bugger is like a little brother! He's just the sweetest, ain't he? I s'pose you really did lose out by being a lonely vagabond with no friends, didn't cha?".

The speed bubble suddenly turns black as he says "I don't even know what I'd do without him. Maybe kill myself." The last sentence is colored red.

The bunnled go back to normal as Day continues, "did I tell you about when we first met an' he asked what happened to my leg? I told him I lost it, an' he asked if I had checked under the floorboards, 'cause he always drops stuff down there. He's sweeter than the fuzz on a bee's back, I'll say. wait right there, I've got a photo of him somewhere... let's see...".

Protoday grimaces, his hair now entirely yellow, and thinks to himself "...This is who I turn into...?" /End ID]

#SOBS. I FUCKED UP ONE OF DAYS LINES BUT I DONT WANT TO GO BACK AND EDIT IT #Then id have to redo all the text n format it n email it to myself AUGH its a whole hassle #rain art #ocs #pastex #day #gore tw #child death

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nonuggetshere · 5 months

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What's a better piece to start the year with than a redraw of this old artwork I made for a snipped almost a full year ago?

If you don't feel like reading the original thing; no, they didn't attack him. They went against his orders to protect him which is how he realised they're not hollow.

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septimusmoonlight · 3 months

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Anonymous: I miss a lot of your birth stuff, so how about your a 5’4 cuminflated baby factory for the biggest magical creatures known for hard births like Orcs, Orges, Minotaurs, etc. For while you’re boypussy has no problem pushing out this absolutely massive babies but then a half Orc/ half giant breeds you one day with three massive babies and your so big and stretch everywhere it hurts. You go so overdue the father has to fuck you into labor and your cunt is gaping and almost ripped apart by the three babies and just when you think it’s over there’s a fourth that just tears you in two. Your relieved that it’s over that is until your permanently sold to the half Orc/half giant and become his baby factory forever.

Oh, I really like this <3

It doesn't matter who I used to be or how I ended up here, really. All that matters is that I'm constantly round and swollen with the latest young, babies from whatever monster needed to use a hole, needed to continue a bloodline, needed to watch a pathetic human give birth to their too-big babies. Not allowed clothes except for a collar, chained wherever is convenient for my latest client, used constantly for breeding until it's finally time for me to push out whatever is taking up space in my womb. I'm just lucky my boycunt is used to it all at this point, because otherwise it would all be a lot more painful. It's painful nonetheless - that's part of the appeal, after all - but my body has, at least, acclimated.

Sometimes, a client will enjoy my "company" so much that they don't let me give birth, keeping me in agonizing labor for days on end so that the contractions squeeze their cock and so that they can keep using me for as long as possible. Orcs will gladly let the rest of their band use me, despite the terms of rental clearly being set at one client, so they're especially bad about this - it's unfair to let a toy go so soon if someone has gone without a turn in some sloppy boycunt, after all. Minotaurs are stubborn by nature, so they're also reluctant to give me up, but they know the terms of a rental as well as the rest of my clients. They can't keep me without repercussions.

My stomach sinks one day when an absolutely enormous client approaches my handlers and asks for a rental. Based on his looks and size, he must be half orc and half giant, if not mostly giant. His tusks and yellow eyes, plus the powerful shoulders, speak to orc ancestry, definitely, but his size is something else entirely. My handlers gladly recommend my services, handing me over upon the exchange of sufficient gold.

His cock alone is big enough to compete with even the largest of births I've ever had, so the prospect of bearing his children scares me - but it gets worse when he determines that I'm carrying triplets after breeding me thoroughly. He praises my proprietors in keeping a cuntboy so fertile, so ready to carry children for whoever is in need, and continues using me even as I swell to obscene sizes with his young at an uncomfortable speed. I'm sore, I'm tired, everything hurts, but I get no rest during the day, constantly impaled on my client's impossible cock. He's been pent up for a long time because nobody wants to handle him, he explains, so it's just better at this point to find somebody who can't say no.

He gets concerned when the supposed due date passes and I just keep swelling. He doesn't want health problems to befall me or the children, and he wants to continue his bloodline - but he has to admit that there's appeal in having a hole around that can take him. Still, he decides to take matters into his own hands one day, and just picks me up bodily, sliding me up and down on his cock like the toy I am, pummeling my cervix to prompt a response from my body - and a response is exactly what he gets. Labor rips through me, and I scream, arching my back as my body finally makes its needs known, but he doesn't let me off, too busy chasing his own high. The squeezing of my boyhole around his cock is just too perfect for him to ignore, even if I'm finally giving birth like he wants.

When he cums, at least that means my hole is loose and sloppy for him when he finally lays me on my back and tells me to push. I obey, screaming, crying, tears falling endlessly from my cheeks as I struggle through the first of three enormous children. The head alone is easily the width of a large watermelon, stuck crowning for a ridiculous amount of time - and that just seems to get my client hard again, stroking his cock as he watches me struggle, watches me ruin my body trying to give birth for him. Drenched in sweat, I finally manage to dislodge the head, and the rest of the body follows with comparative ease.

The second is much the same, except he makes it harder on me. With a gentle palm, he pushes the child back into my body, forcing me to bring it to a crown all over again. And again. He doesn't do it a third time, though, apparently unwilling to delay the birth of his children further, and allows me the privilege of bearing his young, bringing them into the world while I'm in agony, shaking with the effort. If anything, the struggle just turns him on even more - his cock bobs, precum slicking the head even when he's not masturbating to my tears.

Finally, the third. Finally, there will be some rest. Once I'm finished with this, the most difficult task I've ever had to face, I will finally get to relax, just for a little bit, before he fucks another set of babies into me and makes me bear those ones just the same. As I push, though, something feels...off. Something doesn't feel right, like my belly is still too heavy. It can't be the afterbirth - I know what that feels like from dozens and dozens of births over the years - so what else could it possibly be?

I get my answer after the third slides out, my boycunt protesting as it's stretched to its limits for the third time in a row. There's a fourth. My heart sinks as the weight of a fourth child becomes clear to me, now that I'm not distracted by the rest of them, and it feels like it may be bigger than the others by a significant factor. I don't even know if I'll be able to properly birth this thing - but I'm not left any choice when my client presses on my swollen belly, forcing the last of the batch towards my already overworked cunt. I try to plead with him, to tell him that I can't take it, that it hurts too badly, but the way his cock twitches in response tells me that he's looking forward to that. All I can do is brace myself.

It's not enough. A wave of pain rocks me to my absolute core, worse than anything I've ever felt, and I can't even hear myself screaming as the baby fights its way out of me. It stretches me to my limits, meets my limits, and then shoots right past them, my cunt ripping open to make two holes into one, my body permanently changed to reflect my true purpose as a breeding slave, a baby factory, nothing more than a walking womb that makes funny noises sometimes. The air smells like metal. Blood pools beneath me, but my client doesn't seem concerned - in fact, he's jacking off as his final child comes into the world covered in my blood.

My vision is dim, but I can still tell when my client looms over me. The brand-new pain of him sliding his throbbing cock into my fresh wound-cunt isn't even that bad, not compared to when his child made it, so I don't even cry that much anymore, not from the intrusion alone. What makes me cry is when he jackhammers his way to another orgasm, shooting his seed directly into my womb to knock me up all over again, and and his cock stays hard. He pulls out and jacks off, using my blood as lube, painting my sweat-covered body and my open, torn injury in another load of seed.

When he brings me back to my handlers, he apologizes for breaking me and offers to pay for my repair. My handlers, however, see how happy my client is now that he has a body to use and children to continue his bloodline, and they just offer me to him outright - for a price, of course. They've gotten plenty of use out of me over the years, and the majority of toys they keep around break eventually. I'm just lucky I broke in a way that turns my new owner on even more instead of a way that kills me outright.

My owner, now free to use me as much as he likes and free to make me give birth as many times as possible, breeds me again the instant we return to his dwelling, regardless of the fact that I'm still in pain. He's not sewing up those wounds or repairing them, oh, not at all - he's going to let them stay open so that I can give birth over, and over, and over again.

It doesn't matter if they need more time to heal - what matters is how soon he can knock me up.

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doodleduck · 3 months

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Do you ever think about how it took two rockets to kill cTubbo during his execution? The first one was aimed for his heart but it missed its mark and didn’t kill him initially. This first rocket caused the most damage, it was left to burn and tear for longer. His worst scarring is located on the left side of his body, chest, and arm. After the first shot didn’t do it’s job, the second was fired to his head. That’s what killed him. The damage to his face and head could have been a whole lot worse but since it was the shot that killed him, most of it regenerated when he respawned. This carries over to New L’manburg. From what you can see yes, what happened to him was horrible, but he is moving forward, pushing ahead, but under that too big suit jacket and false confidence, he is torn apart. His heart rotting out..

#man. cTubbo is one hell of a character #c!tubbo #ctubbo #headcanon #text #character death #gore #tw gore #gore talk #<- not quite sure how to tag this. lemme know if something is needed

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