#idk ask to tag

[mikufanclub]

duality of girl

#my art #elfen lied #illustration #blood tw #gore tw #idk ask to tag

[excessive-moisture]

i never uploaded this video in here?? what??

#i think this was the first video i made after playing downpour? #body horror #hunter long legs #hll #rain world downpour #gourmand slugcat #analog horror #idk ask to tag

[bethdehart]

Blizzard

Just a big, butch boar. I do not really know what their deal is except that they are butch and use any pronouns. Got them from anastasiaelf on deviantart. I think she's neat :)

[ID A sketch of an anthropomorphic boar person. She is fat with white fur and an off-white beard and mohawk. His eyes are deep red and its hooves and tusks are a light brown. Its breasts are bare except for two black x-shaped stickers over their nipples. They have piercings in its ears and nose, and he has a black choker around his neck, and a spiked leather gauntlet on one arm, and black leather belt and pants. He is smoking a cigarette with smoke curling around her. The background is a darkish red.]

#blizzard #character design #furry #furry art #furry fandom #furry anthro #semi nudity #idk ask to tag #suggestive #maybe #butch #boar

[bonetrousledbones]

#YOU GET IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #blood // #violence // #stick figure gore #idk ask to tag #this meme usually makes me weirdly uncomfy but right now IM FEELING IT A LOT

[couriernewvegas]

sorry i think of ur into openly posting about sexualizing rape and incest ur gross i dont care who u are as a person im not going to reblog callouts or whatever bc im a relatively normal adult but i will block u and think ur strange can we not make the round of these annoying posts for the millionth time

#like im just going to block ppl at this point i really feel like if i see anybody defending that kind of stuff u need to reflect heavily on #ur priorities and i dont need to give u grace bc it gets u off the end . #idk ask to tag #sorry for being rude but just a part of tumblr culture that os constantly annoying and exhausting to see every other day

[honeyviscera]

lately i've been thinking a lot about teeth. i don't exactly know why. maybe it's because i feel like sinking them into the soft give of my own forearm, that bright, vivid, imagined pain. almost real enough to taste in the back of my throat. almost real enough to feel the stickiness of the blood in my gums. lately, i've had this fixation on cyclic processes. breathing. circulation. digestion. sometimes it feels like there are centipedes under my skin. i want to pull them out into the light and dissect them, ask myself why i have become the way that i am. i want to pull out the soft flesh out from under their shells and stretch it out, all translucent and still reflexively twitching.

to be fully honest, i don't know much about centipede anatomy.

is the flesh the self, or the mind? how would the centipede taste, if you were to crush it between your molars? sometimes i feel like i am watered down, like the reason everything is so hard is because i am half here and not-here, like part of me has drifted away. there is a gnawing in my abdomen that no amount of food can compensate for.

i don't know. like it or not, i must put the things i hate most about myself into my mouth, then force myself to swallow. digest them. taste, in my opinion, is the most visceral sense, the one closest to your body. it has to go inside you for you to recognise its shape. for you to grapple with it directly. you must put the things you hate most about yourself back inside your body. they are still you. the centipedes you mutilated are still that half-formed, flinching you.

the too-long-didn't-read: use your teeth, and eat yourself.

#ocean.mp3 #ocean's poetry #poetry #idk ask to tag

[healthyhorrour]

gayest man to have a Dead Wife thing going on

(i know it would technically be drawn in chalk but that’s not very dramatic is it)

#fear and hunger #there’s probably a lot wrong with this. sorry #i drew this absent mindedly on MS paint as a warm up #and edited it shoddily in CSP #do you still love me [blinking bigly and wetly] #self injury // #eye injury // #idk ask to tag #daan #fear and hunger daan #fear and hunger termina

[pezpenser205]

i give psychotic/schizospec people a bad name because i Do actually want to murder people all the time.

not all of us are like this its just me seeing everything around me as a sign that im actually destined to become a killer of either other people or myself and hearing everything people around me say as some kind of meticulous jab against me crafted by the universe that controls the side characters in my life to make me specifically snap and kill people or myself. like the universe is Trying to Make Me a murderer and ruin my life forever or to force me to take my life from me. its like everything thats happening around me irl is Tailored to make me upset and agitated until it builds to the point i cant take it anymore.

im introspective and analytical enough to realize that all of the above is ridiculous but not logical or in control enough to not feel the emotions that would be associated with that situation and not consider my actions as if it were a real thing thats happening to me. like i specifically look for signs that its Not Real to ground myself but i just end up noticing proof that it is. idk i feel dangerous or like everybody around me is taunting me.

another big problem im having is the thought process "if its a delusion i wouldnt know im delusional so its not a delusion if im assuming it is so its actually happening rn" so is there a counter to that

#op #tw suicide mention #tw homicidal ideation #tw delusion #idk ask to tag

[ghetsis]

tfw you're NB aro-ace, but your vestigial uterus can't take a hint and so it punishes you hardcore for opting out of kids for the 130th month in a row

#idk ask to tag

[daxieoclock]

i put in an order for ritalin refill on the 5th of february. it is now the 13th of february and the order has FINALLY shipped. it wont arrive until the 19th. assuming it arrives by then, that will have been exactly two FUCKING weeks for a shipment of medication that i NEED in order to fucking FUNCTION. to arrive. and it would be bad enough if i was just dealing with the normal inattentiveness shit, but i'm ALSO experiencing withdrawal symptoms! this is the sickest ive felt in like a couple fucking years! i am in so much GODDAMN pain right now

anyway. not that anyone's commissioning me in fuckin general, but i cant take any new comissions right now; however, if you wanna be a real pal and throw some change at my ko fi so i can. idk. buy myself a pizza or a game or something to help distract myself from the fact my brain is ordering my organs to shred themselves that would be nice.

#idk ask to tag #this is fucking agony

[pups-2-dust]

Mommy issues this daddy issues that when are we gonna talk about sibling issues???

#i hate my brother so much #and i blame him for setting me up to be insecure and scared my whole life #and im so jealous of people who have good relationships with their siblings #id rather be an only child #and fundamentally not be able to understand what its like to love a sibling #instead of having the opportunity to know but denied on the basis of my sibling being an abusive pos #idk ask to tag

[golyadkin]

Wolf Chop

#art tag #wolf #animal death // #gore // #idk ask to tag #using a loaned computer rn and it's running csp surprisingly well

[ale-draws-stuff]

Charles loves this smile 💛

#my art #wtnv fanart #welcome to night vale #wtnv kevin #fan art #finally finished it 🙌 #i love him sm #face horror #idk ask to tag

[lightningfilledsaber]

Meat.

#mud draws #3.28.24 #blood #gore #eye strain #idk ask to tag

[hermits-that-craft]

Never Go Marching Home

A/N As promised, here is a finished WIP thats been sitting in my drafts! This will also be posted on AO3, and a link will be in the reblogs.

Grian’s world ends when he’s three years old.

Maybe the statement isn’t entirely true. The first six months are nothing but pleasant, according to his father. Nothing but smiles and revelry as his baby sister is brought into the world and introduced to the family. 

But then his mother got ill.

Her condition worsened over the year. Truly, his world does not end until a few months after he turns four. His mothers last breath within moment of his sisters first steps, toddling over to a mother who hasn’t had the strength to hold her since she was barely a few months old. 

She dies surrounded by family, a proud smile on her face.

The next few years pass in a blur. Grian and Pearl are watched by a rotating roster of neighbours, friends and family as their father works long hours in dirty businesses. 

First the mines, to pay off their debts to doctors who didn’t bother to treat their mother but were kept around anyways. Then the factory, when the mines were shut to build residentials on. Father would come home covered in soot and with little more than loose change, having been harangued by the funeral home for their mothers casket and grave costs on the way home. The paycheck never went far.

On Pearl’s 5th birthday, she is taken by Mother’s sister to live on the other continent. Grian is also grabbed, his bags packed while he was at school, but he runs back home before they can force him to board the blimp travelling to Canberra-Town.

Grian spends the next five years in a daze. Going from job to job as his father plunges further into debt to One Eye’d Jack, the only mobster rich enough to have more runners than sense, who runs the outer sectors of London-town. He’s barely old enough to attend a high school when his hands become stained red, stabbing someone to death in a rage he didn’t know he had.

The police ignore him, their pockets lined with Jack’s dirty cash. No crimes are committed in the outer slums, not officially anyways. Glorified runners and guns for hire, that's all the cops could be called, and a 13 year old with harrowed eyes and hollow cheeks is nothing to look twice at, even when another child lies dying beneath him. To arrest him is to go against Jack’s orders.

The runners bring Grian in for the kill.

He doesn’t remember much of what they said. Sam was a snotty nosed rich kid who told Grian he was his friend, but only enjoyed watching his pain, especially after Taurtis died of a treatable infection just days before. Honestly, Jack didn’t mind the killing. If Sam had any sense about him, he wouldn’t have taunted Grian with the vaccine for the infection, nor would he have boasted about owning the vaccine for months while Taurtis had withered away.

Grian got off lightly, beaten only to a pulp and not within an inch of his life. He doesn’t know if it’s because his father was favoured by Jack, or if there was some kind of sympathy in the heartless bastard anyways.

It was more likely that he knew Grian would do jobs for him if he was given some sort of favour. Grian didn’t want to think about what sort of jobs he would be given after killing some rich kid in warm blooded rage, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before they started to grab him off the streets to do them.

Three years passed in more of a daze, barely making eye contact with anyone and actively avoiding his father where possible. It’s not as though he doesn’t love the man, but seeing his father come home black and blue after loosing favour with Jack isn’t something he’d find particularly comforting, and Grian knows it wont be long before he looses him too.

It’s in this daze that he meets a few new friends.

Mumbo and Iskall are an odd folk. Between the way Iskall’s prosthetic eye glows even when the sun is brighter than it really ought to be, and the way the Mumbo seems to rust when it rains for more than three days in a row. He’d hesitate to call them the strangest of their bunch, as he’s seen the people they surround themselves with, but their nice enough and keep to their own trouble, and often times get him out of his.

He’s caught them with blood on their hands, hidden between broken street lights and maze like alleyways. Grian watches with curiosity as the duo kill people at random, with no clear rhyme of reason and never get questioned by anyone.

He almost convinces himself that they aren’t even real, but his father pales at the mention of them on one of the rare occasions that they actually speak to each other. That’s all the warning he needs to know these men are bad news, dangerous even. He doesn’t even have to pay attention to his father as hes told that the pair are worse than an oil fire, that they and their group will destroy everything.

Personally, Grian wouldn’t mind to see the old timbers of outer London go up in smoke. Fire and brimstone smell of something more than he could experience here. Of danger and excitement. His mother claimed he had an adventurous soul, and Jack calls him a devil in the making. He doesn’t know if proving Jack right would make his mother proud per se, but he sticks to Mumbo and Iskall like glue afterwards.

And when his father flees the city soon after Grian turns 18, leaving him an apartment on his own? Well, he just invites his new friends to live with him. Mumbo and Iskall come and go as they please, never using the front door if they can avoid it, and Grian’s family falls quickly from his mind as he surrounds himself with new friends and a life of relative ease, stealing from whomever he dared.

And when Iskall and Mumbo bring in the body of someone Grian had briefly met through them, asking him if he can watch the body for a few days while they dealt with the problem - Well, he agrees without too much hesitation.

And after a week of not seeing hide nor hair of Mumbo and Iskall as smoke covers the other side of the city and violence reigns in the hallowed halls of the ministers cabinets, the man awakes.

Grian wasn’t expecting the man who had a gaping hole in his chest to stand up and start walking after little less than a week, and all the bumbling man can do to make Grian stop shrieking is to slap a hand over Grian’s mouth until he looses his voice.

The man wears a gas mask of rusted brass and adorned with golden spikes, his eyes a hauntingly bright purple as he stares at Grian. Iskall and Mumbo enter through a window that Grian could just about reach and-

He does.

He races across the rooftops of the outer city, his mad dash closer to flying than it is to running as the pair who protected him now follow him, glowing purple eyes haunting his every step.

He doesn’t mean to kill Iskall.

He truly doesn’t.

But between the adrenaline wearing off and the slow horror that he fucked up severely, he lets Mumbo lead him back to his apartment, Iskall’s body thrown over the tall mans shoulder as though the corpse weighed nothing.

Grian can almost believe that the man is dead. Permanently. 

But even though the man has a slit throat and a strange, green fluid leaking out of him in place of blood, the man winks at him. No one else on the street seem to notice. People close their curtains, usher kids inside already cramped apartments. Someone gives a frightened shout. Another screams a curse at Mumbo. A prayer is muttered just loud enough for Grian to hear. None of these people know Grian.

All of them hate Mumbo and Iskall.

Grian is pushed into his apartment by Mumbo, and Xisuma sits at the head of his table. Iskall’s body disappears into a different room. Mumbo does not leave it. Xisuma watches him, a mug of something steaming in his hands. He gestures for Grian to sit. Grian complies, knowing when things have to come to an end.

Words are exchanged. A deal is brokered. Xisuma leaves the apartment, an ice cold drink that was never so much as sipped being the only thing that even indicates that the man was ever there. Mumbo presses something cold and metal into his hands, Iskall still slung over his shoulder. The corpse grins wickedly at Grian, and winks before settling down.

Grian hides in his apartment for a few days, getting used to the feeling of a gun in his hands. Somehow, it’s not as heavy as he expected it to be.

He lets himself get taken by One Eye’d Jack’s runners.

Jack talks to him, weaves a tale of unpaid debt and never completing deals. Grian knows who Jack wants him to kill. He knows what he has to do. He can’t leave this world with someone who will look for him still yet left behind, after all. Xisuma is a good man - relatively speaking of course, as good as anyone can be in the slums and outskirts - but he will not have crew who have people who could follow them.

And Grian’s seen what the mechanisation process can do to a man. He wants to fly.

So when the bullet lands square in his fathers chest, he bites back the guilt. HIs fathers forgiveness is nothing on his mothers disappointment, but she's dead, of course. And he has a new life to lead.

The ships doctor has given him a prescription to give to Jack. And when the half ounce of lead was injected directly into Jack’s brain, well. It was only natural that the rest of the bar get caught alight by the mad bastards cigar. It was only natural that the outskirts of the city catch soon afterwards, for damp timber may smolder but gasoline goes up well even while wet.

And if Grian dies in his exit?

Well, its all well and good that there were new wings made just in time for him to resurrect. The mechanisation process is painful, even while unconscious. All the drugs in the universe couldn’t dope you up enough to experience the molten metal seeping into your bones and blood. Best to be dead and hope the process actually works for a change.

After all, no one is missing him back in London-town, all those who remember him there are dead or dying, burnt beyond recognition.

Save for a younger sister, waiting for him on the opposite side of the planet, still feeling mighty betrayed that he did not save her when he fled off that blimp.

#hermechanisms au #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #mechanisms au #my writing #hermitcraft fanfic #grian #pearlescentmoon #iskall85 #mumbo jumbo #xisumavoid #one eyed jack #tw death #tw murder #idk ask to tag #long post i think? #one shot

[l-herz]

I just cant get over Laudna being trapped in that nightmare sun tree. How cruel it is to have her stuck inside the same place where she was murdered and strung up for show. And how low and tired her voice was. Barely croaking out words, with her accent thick and filled with sorrow and pain. Looking so very defeated but some hope fills her eyes when talking to Imogen. Telling Imogen she can't fight Delilah and was never able to for decades. How strongly all of Bell's Hells fought to free her. Orym frantically cutting through the tree and shouting for Laudna...... I can't wait until she's alive and so loved once again :')

#critical role #cr spoilers #cr laudna #laudna critical role #marisha ray #Did a wonderful job #Imogen temult #Imodna #Angst #idk ask to tag #it's heavy