#but i’m going to watch it when I’m in mood for some gore and cannibalism

[ducktapebar]

You Don’t have to Be Alone: Pt 2

Lee x reader (Bones and All)

TW: possible gore, cannibals, blood, past trauma

You woke up maybe an hour later. Still in the truck, Lee at the drivers seat as he focused on the road, hearing you however he glanced your way “hey” he smiled a bit. You hummed softly “hey” you said, you looked and noticed the blanket around you and smiled softly, knowing Lee must’ve put it there. His kindness warmed your heart, you felt someone finally accepted you, and maybe someone who wouldn’t leave you. You had just met him but you truly hoped maybe he was genuine.

Your first stop was a house. “Where are we?” You asked curiously. You sat up and looked at the home. It wasn’t fancy or anything, not that you minded that. It seemed maybe to have seen better days however as the paint seemed worn and the plants around it looked wilted. Whoever lived or had lived here, hadn’t always taken care of their house the best. “A place to stay” Lee assured kindly “I’ll see what food i can find. But its late now and we should probably settle in for the night” he explained. He parked the truck and got out, going to your side and opening the door for you, showing he seemed to be a gentleman. You smiled “thanks” you said as you both went to the door.

Oddly enough the door was unlocked, whoever had been here before hadn’t locked it. Lee opened the door and walked inside. He turned on the lights in the hallway as he led the way inside. You looked around “who lived here?” You asked curious “is this your place?” You looked at him. Lee shook his head “nah, not my place. Just think of it as a safe place to stay for the night” he smiled gently. “Hey-he’s got KISS” he said as he went to one room, with multiple posters. Some very inappropriate but one was indeed KISS. “I bet he has Lick it Up” he said before checking the records. Finding it a moment later he put it on the record player and began to play it. He moved his body in a dance as he danced along to it in his own way. Singing along softly.

You smiled as you watched him. The sight of him dancing helped lighten the mood. You relaxed some, starting to feel safer then you had before. Once the song had neared the end, Lee was looking in the mirror some as he had some dried blood on him still “I’m gonna take a shower” he said before he made his way to the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes for him to switch into. You went to lay down in the bedroom, you laid in bed and pulled the covers up. You were exhausted by now and wanted to get some sleep. Your eyes began to close as you heard the shower turn on.

After Lee had finished his shower, he went to the bedroom and checked in on you. He smiled softly as he saw you asleep. He quietly closed the door and went to the couch. He sighed in relief, he wasn’t alone anymore. He felt like he was seen and he wasn’t judged. He hoped he was right about you. He had met others in the past, other eaters. But none had been as kind or had given off a peaceful demeanor like you had. He did worry for you though, but he’d protect you. He’d keep you safe from any eaters who had no rules, who ate non eaters and eaters alike. He promised himself this as his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

When morning came you were awake. You stretched and glanced around, confused a moment before remembering what had happened and where you were. Your stomach growled. You were hungry. However you wouldn’t hurt Lee, you’d scrounge in the kitchen for something for you two to eat. You hoped the previous owner of this house had something. You knew this was likely the house of that one guy Lee had eaten. Which would’ve explained the messiness. The guy had seemed to be the type to probably not care. As you looked you heard Lee stirring from the couch as he sat up, fluffy pink mullet extra messy but in a cute way. You had to admit to yourself he was adorable.

You smiled at him a bit “hey” you said. There wasn’t necessarily any food around so maybe the two of you would have to find breakfast another way. Lee stretched “Gmorning” he said. He looked at you, “hungry?” He asked. He got up and saw the kitchen didn’t have much “lets go to this restaurant down the road. Before i head to give Kayla driving lessons” he grinned. “Kayla’s your sister?” You asked smiling. “Yea Kay, stupid, i call her idiot to her face” he grinned, clearly he meant those names jokingly. He loved his little sister dearly and would do anything to keep her safe. Its why he keeps his distance like he does. He smiles and goes with you to the truck. Getting in the two of you make your way to the local restaurant, where you got a table.

You looked around as the two of you sat at the table. You ordered pancakes and he had ordered lucky charms and an order of bacon. Of course the both of you also got some coffee. He looked at you softly as he seemed to be thinking “so…” he hummed softly thinking “you aren’t like most other Eaters I’ve met” he said quietly between you two “and i mean that in a good way” he added. You nodded “i mean-I just don’t want to hurt anyone” you sighed. You somewhat hated what you were because people often feared you as soon as they found out. Lee had been the first to not run away from you in terror.

He nodded “famous last words” he mumbled quietly. He didn’t like hurting people. He really didn’t. But he was more almost in a sense- numb to what he had to do in order to survive. He knew his body and what it unfortunately needed. He would hunt at times but he rather it be a bad person if he can help it. Flashbacks came back to his mind as he quickly shook his head softly. A scar right near above his lung area on his chest- teeth marks. Something he didn’t like to think about, he didn’t want his mind to relive those painful memories.

You looked worried “Lee? You okay?” You asked with concern. Lee nodded “y-yea, thanks Y/N” he quickly assured you. Brushing off whatever had been bothering him. He seemed to want to change the subject as quickly as he could as he said “so after this and after I give Kay lessons, I figure we just drive awhile till we can set up camp somewhere, do you mind sleeping outside?” He asked, wanting to be sure you were comfortable with the idea first. You nodded “yea sure, sounds good” you assured. Not minding much.

After breakfast, the two of you headed back to the truck. You thought about Lee earlier and how he had seemed to be thinking of something painful, he had seemed hurting in that moment and you weren’t sure why. As he drove with you in the passenger seat, you looked out the window in thought. The scenery of countryside roads passing by.

@kteezy997

#bonesandall #timothee fanfic

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: Paradise-1 (Red Space #1) Author: David Wellington Genre/s: science fiction, horror Content/Trigger Warning/s: blood, gore, violence, cannibalism, emotional and mental manipulation, sexual assault, emotional and physical abuse of a child, depictions of extreme PTSD and depression Summary (from publisher’s website):  Paradise-1. Earth’s first deep space colony. For thousands of people, it was an opportunity for a new life. Until it went dark. No communication has been received from the colony for months. And it falls to Firewatch inspector Alexandra Petrova and the crew of the Artemis to investigate. What they find is more horrifying than anything they could have imagined. Buy Here (publisher’s website): https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/david-wellington/paradise-1/9780316496742/ Spoiler-Free Review: So I picked this up because I needed some more horror after finally wrapping up my reread (and read, in the case of The Lure of the Moonflower!) of the Pink Carnation series. I was in the mood for a little more horror after practically devouring Catriona Ward’s Sundial. And since I’m always game for some cosmic horror, Paradise-1 seemed right up my alley. And in a way, it was! The overall concept was intriguing, and I was pulled into the whole thing by the first handful of chapters. I really wanted to know what was going to happen to the characters as they left the Solar System and headed for Paradise-1, and when the first disaster struck, I was ready to see how things would devolve and how the (surely) horrific mysteries teased at the beginning of the story would be revealed. But that didn’t turn out to be the case. Fun as the concept is, the potential horror lost a LOT of its power when the story began to go on, and on, and ON. Put simply: this was way, WAY longer than it needed to be. In fact, there are twenty to thirty chapters - whole chunks of narrative - in this novel that could absolutely be taken out and it wouldn’t affect the narrative at all - in fact, it would be a significant improvement. Take it down to something in the vicinity of 300-350 pages, instead of the 600+ it currently has, and it might read much better. Trim out all the fat, as it were.  As for the horror, I can SEE where it would be scary, but instead there’s a lot of parts where it feels like the author’s presenting a kind of set piece to play out in front of the reader, in the hopes that it’ll scare them. Which honestly, just doesn’t work for me: I’m someone who can watch a slasher movie while eating and not be put off my meal. I need something more insidious than blood, gore, and guts to really get to me - and the sad thing is? This novel HAS THE POTENTIAL FOR THAT. It was just stretched out for far longer than it needed to be, and many of the scenes that SHOULD have felt scary felt more like they were there for nothing more than shock value - which honestly becomes really old, pretty fast (especially when the same scenario is presented THREE TIMES, just in slightly different flavors). The above also affects the characters. Initially they feel likable enough, but it gets kind of hard to keep on liking them when bad things keep happening to them and they keep on walking into them. I’m especially disappointed with the way Zhang was characterized, as there was plenty of potential there to explore the effects of PTSD when one is thrust into a scenario that reopens all those old traumas, but given how long the story dragged and how often he walked into the Same Scenario in Three Different Flavors thing, it’s easy to lose sympathy for him. The only one I think I actually liked was Rapscallion, but I can easily imagine him being an even more interesting character if the aforementioned flaws weren’t there. You know what really gets me about this though? As long as it already is, as bloated as it already feels, IT ACTUALLY HAS A SEQUEL. Which I’m slightly intrigued by because I want to know what happens next, but if it’s another overlong monstrosity like this one? I might have to pass.  Rating: two AI cores

#book review #book reviews #horror #science fiction #scifi #cosmic horror #sff #paradise-1 #red space series #david wellington #books

[kmlaney]

Elemental Writing Ask: Shadows and Sand

Shadows: What’s the darkest theme you’ve ever written about?

I’ve written some pretty dark stuff. Cleaner One dealt with slavery, coercion, and dubious consent (of a variety of kinds, including sexual dubcon) in most every episode. Not to mention recurring themes of substance abuse and suicide. My Sith Warrior’s relationship with Jaesa was uglier than canon due to their power imbalance. Skyfallen includes alcoholism, murder, a dangerous religious cult, torture, malicious misgendering, and an episode of survival cannibalism. Oh, and some gore and cosmic horror. No GRRM-style rape, though. To my knowledge, outside of background material where the character was concerned about being raped (which didn’t happen, onscreen or off), I don’t think I’ve written that topic outside of the aforementioned dubcon scenarios.

Sand: What’s the softest scene you’ve ever written?

You know what, I’m going to post the two that come to mind rather than summarize. One romantic (romance often feels soft) and one not. The romantic one is a SWtOR fanfic (F!Agent x Vector) and the non-romantic scene is a piece of Phil’s background that I haven’t posted, when they’re very young. These are close a decade apart in terms of when I wrote them, 1500 words together. 

under a cut because long

The Song of the Universe (F!Agent x Vector) (originally posted on the SWtOR forums)

“I want to share something with you, Vector,” Sha’ra’zaed said.

“Yes, Agent?” Vector answered.

She led him to her quarters.  With the violet silk bed and the soft carpeting underfoot.  “Sit,” she said, putting her hands on his shoulders and pushing him down gently.  He did as she asked.  Sha’ra’zaed circled around and knelt on the bed behind him.  Embraced him.  Facing the wrong way, he could not return her embrace.  Instead, he relaxed into it.  She kissed him behind his ear.  Then slipped something inside it.

An earbud.

Then one in the other ear.

She kissed his cheek.  “You asked me once what I was listening to.  Here it is.”  She turned the player on.

Music filled his ears.  The sound of alien voices raised in song.  Chords of an alien scale.   “You’ve told me of the song of the universe, Vector.  This is mine.  The song of my universe,” Sha’ra’zaed whispered, “The song of a people I am no longer a part of.” Alien instruments, in harmony, in unison.  Tears filled her eyes.  Spilled over.  Fell unheeded and darkened the fabric of Vector’s coat.  

She watched him.  Watched Vector listen to every piece of recorded music she owned.  Every mood, every thought, every vagary and wish.  The beautiful, the silly, the violent, the sublime.  Sharing her soul in a way she couldn’t with words.  She couldn't read auras and know his thoughts the way he did with her.  But then again, it was Vector.  She didn’t need to see his aura.

He listened as the chrono ticked off its unending count.  The notes faded and he turned to her, “Thank you, Haraz.  We have waited for a long time,” he said.

“For?”

He touched her hair, “To hear the song of your universe.”

“You knew,” she said, “you knew.  Knew I was lying to you.”

“We know, Haraz.  We've always known.  Just as we know the truth in your words now.  You are beautiful to us.  So much more so when your words match your aura." He stroked her cheek, "I love you anyway."

"I cannot always be yours," she said.  Of course he knew.  She should have realized it sooner.

"You were never mine," Vector said, "you are you.  Yours.  You belong to no one but yourself.  And I love you.  With all your different faces and different voices.  I love seeing you beneath all the disguises and knowing who you are.  The beautiful woman you will always be."

"I, Vector?" she asked.

"I are we," he replied, "There is no difference.  We know how you feel about us, regardless.  That which you cannot quite understand about us is part of what you love." He stroked her cheek again.  Pulled locks of indigo hair free and let it cascade over her shoulders.  "Can you not imagine that we, that I, feel the same?"  He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, “That we can love you, every you?” he whispered, “And we have from nearly the first.”

She took his hand in hers, “Vector, this, this us, it won’t ever work.  Not the way you want.  I’m not human,” she said.

“Does it matter so much?” he asked.

“My people are not Human,” she objected, “and the Empire are not my people.” 

“The killiks aren't ours,” he said, regaining his hand, “We still hear their song.”

“You love the Empire in a way I cannot,” she said.

“We love you,” he said, “The beauty of the Killik song is in the individual voices.  No two voices sing the same.  Together they create something more.  Let us be a part in your song, Haraz.  The song of your universe.  For as long as you wish it.”

“I--”

“Listen,” he said, “listen to our song for a little while.  And consider.  Please, consider.” He kissed her, and she heard the sound of his heart beating in the touch of his lips.

Earliest Thing for Phil:

They sent my sisters away for the afternoon so I’m sitting on the bed alone in our room. I hear their voices from the other side of the door. Arguing.

“That's your child. You wanted a son.” Mama.

“She's our child and you know I don't care.” Father.

“You never forgave me for having only daughters.” Mama again. Weeping.

“That's not true, Tess.” Father. Gentle.

“Then why do you pretend she's your son?” Mama. Pleading.

I don’t hear his sigh. It’s too quiet. “We’ll discuss it later.” Footsteps now, growing louder as he approaches my room.

Father opens the door. He fills the doorway, a tall shadow. Mama with crossed arms, frowning, behind him. "Hey, Filly," he says. I say nothing. I know he's angry. When I don't answer he continues, "Can we talk a spell?"

My gaze goes to the floor. I still don't answer. He closes the door softly and his bootheels thunk soft on the floorboards as he comes closer. The bed sags with his weight when he sits beside me. He rests strong hands on knees clothed in denim blue. He sighs. Finally he speaks. "Doc says the Washbourne boy’s like to lose an eye. Mind telling me what happened?"

I grind my teeth. "Lendy pulled my hair so I punched him." 

"That why you cut your pigtails off?" he asks.

"No!" I answer immediately. Then, "Yes." Mama was so angry about my hair. After a pause I repeat, "No." 

"All right, we'll come back to that. You punched Lendall Washbourne.” Father asks.

“He pulled my hair!” I say. I can’t keep the fury from my voice. I turn to see Father’s tired face. “I told him I would. It’s his fault for being stupid.”

He strokes my head the way he does with the horses when they get bitey. It’s soft and warm and gentle. “Filly, a punch in the eye is more than a yank on hair. You understand that?”

My hands ball up into fists like they did when I hit Lendy. Tears rise in my eyes and I blink them away. “I told him.”

Father’s other hand covers my little ones. “I believe you, Filly. And Lendall shouldn’t have pulled your hair. That was wrong.”

I look away, scowling. “No one else thinks so,” I mutter.

His hand slides from the top of my head down the side of my face to cup my chin, and he turns my head so I have to see him. “Well, it is, and you’re in the right to defend yourself.” I can’t stop the tears now. They run burning over my cheeks. Father’s face swims in water. I blink and that only makes it worse. “But the hurt you gave is worse than the hurt you got. You can see that, right, Filly?”

I don’t want to. I want to remember the shock on Lendy’s face when I hit him. The scare on all his friends. I meet Father’s eyes “Now they know better. They won’t pull my hair no more. Or do anything else.” I say.

Father takes his hand off my fists and rubs his own face. He sets his hand back down on his knee. “Filly,” he says, then waits for a minute, just staring at me. “That’s a red road. It don’t lead nowhere good and you’re awful young to start down it,” he says when he speaks again. 

There are no more tears. Not right now. “He started it.”

“And you finished it.” Father sighed. There’s another pause while he just stares at me. “I can’t find fault, Filly. Neither one of you is clean. You’ll cry pardon--”

“It’s Lendy’s fault! Will he--”

Father holds up one hand, interrupting. “Let me finish. You’ll cry pardon for your part. You mayhap crippled the boy for life. That’s no small thing.”

I pull my chin out of Father’s rough fingers to stare at the floor again. It’s not right. I’m supposed to feel bad for hitting Lendy but I only feel bad for making Father angry. “Will Lendy cry pardon for pulling my hair all those times? What about shoving Bekka in the puddle, or tearing Roth’s books, or throwing rocks at the colts in the pasture and making them run?” I look back up at Father and the tears in my eyes this time are rage. “Why is it the little hurts go unpardoned and only the big ones matter?”

His face turns sad. He strokes my chopped-off hair. “They shouldn’t be. But they often are. Mostly because the people watching didn’t have their little hurts pardoned either and don’t know any better.”

“Well that’s just stupid,” I say.

He puts his arm around me and pulls me into a hug. “People grow up but they don’t always grow smart,” he says quietly. I snuggle against his side. My tears make his shirt wet but I can’t stop them. He lets me for a while. After a bit he leans down and whispers in my ear. “And Filly, next time you punch someone, go for someplace meaty. Still hurts and you won’t risk breaking your hand.”

#kodrevas #kmlaney replies #kmlaney characters #swtor fanfiction #bad luck phil #F!Agent Sha’ra’zaed

[m-e-w-666]

Oh my god pls watch Hannibal it’s so fucked up (be warned because my god is it fucked up)

Yessss it’s been on my list for so long I love watching fucked up stuff. Once tma is done I’m going to get into it for sure

#all I know is a lady crawls out of a horse or some shit #idk #but i’m going to watch it when I’m in mood for some gore and cannibalism #I think that’s what hannibal is about?? #hehe hannibal cannibal #and also it’s probably gay maybe #there’s a guy named will?? #and the main guy is hannibal #they’re in gay love with eachother and i’m 80% sure it’s canon #also there’s a dead horse and a woman who was inside it #ok I’m going to stop rambling but that’s basically all I know about it #I’m so excited to start it #hannibal #askmew #deendee

[cinnamonest]

///Tws: Gore, violence, viscera, all of which is involving enemies/rivals not darling, plus cannibalism and forced/unintentional cannibalism involving darling, this isn't horny content at all it's just dark violent yandere shit

I know my brand of content is usually horny yandere not dark yandere but I'm in a dark content mood and having a lot of thots about... The bois and corpse disposal... Putting it under the cut

What got me thinking about this is Razor's level 10 friendship namecard mentions that he won't let Traveler watch him prepare food with the wolves bc he knows it's gruesome. So you know that if there's someone like... leading a search party for you in the woods... obviously the solution is to just kill them, and if they've gone to the trouble of killing them why not eat them? It makes logical sense and like, obviously the wolves are not gonna hesitate to tear into 'em so he won't either. There's literally nothing left by the time they're done, not even bones. Would probably give you some, he's just smart enough to know he probably shouldn't tell you what it is, so.

Albedo though... would dissolve bodies in acid. It's on-brand for him. He'd be one of the better yans when it comes to crime evidence bc there's literally not even a trace of human DNA left. Would probably, out of pure spite, turn it into some sort of official research experiment and claim it was done on the carcass of a dead animal he found or smth about how easy it is to dissolve flesh. If they're gonna die they might as well do something useful and contribute their body to science, after all.

And speaking of spite I feel Diluc would like... dismember... turn some body parts into nutrients for the vineyard. Organs/viscera are actually really good for soil. Could easily just... make a new plot and bury the pieces. In a few months it's the most bountiful plot of land on the whole winery. New marketing strategy: use enemies' guts as fertilizer. Alternatively, he could burn them, but that's a waste of good nutrients.

Also Childe is just. Blatant. He knows he's got protection from status and can get away with literally anything so he leaves so much evidence he might as well have just dropped a name card. And he'd be a dick about it. I remember a buzzfeed unsolved ep where the criminal placed a body directly outside the window of the case's primary investigator to taunt him and like? That would absolutely be something he would do.

Now I've mentioned that if Chongyun killed anyone it would likely be a spontaneous manic episode, not intentional... so when he kinda snaps out of it he's gonna panic so bad and would have to kinda process it all, I feel like he would be one to honestly not do too much, if it's at nighttime he can probably get away with carrying it somewhere and just dumping the body out in the woods or something. He doesn't really think much through because he panics too much.

Being the mentally unhinged bastard I know he is, Kaeya would do something fucked up with it tbh. Probably the most fucked up. Especially bc he's got like, some insane levels of jealousy/possessiveness. Probably makes a leather sword sheath or belt or something out of the skin. The type of outwardly composed and sane but internally... neither of those things sort of person, the type to do some messed up shit like keep the head in a jar stuffed away somewhere or feed them to you without your knowledge. He won't hide it like Razor would though, he'd like, tell you afterwards, just to watch you freak out.

Xiao isn't quite like Childe where he's an intentional dick about it, unless the person really annoyed him, but he's kinda similar in that he knows he's untouchable in that regard bc what are they gonna do to stop him? So he sees literally no point in doing anything, so he just... leaves it right there out in the open, right where he killed 'em. Doesn't do anything about it. However I feel like he's definitely the most brutal when it comes to killing so it's definitely a bloodbath and a very traumatizing scene for people who come across it. There's a good chance it might not be like... recognizable as a human being, so people might think its some animal that got ripped to shreds and just clean it up and dispose.

I refuse to believe a wealthy family doesn't have their fair share of shady goings-on so honestly, Xingqiu can probably just go running to his dad and claim that you know, they attacked him and he killed the other person in self defense, and even if his father believed him (which, let's be real, he doesn't), he would make sure that there isn't a trace. Probably not the first time he's had to cover up a death. And he can easily pay off anyone looking into the matter, so, in the end it's not a big deal at all.

#tw: violence

[dreamyyang]

summary: you made taeil’s undead heart soar and he was absolutely addicted to the feeling.

pairing(s): yandere!zombie!moon taeil x reader | kim doyoung x reader

warning(s): swearing, obsessive behaviour, mentions of blood, gore (kind of..?), minor character death, cannibalism, non con (taeil forcefully kisses the reader)

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: this is pretty heavy stuff so if any of the aforementioned content triggers you, do not read. please note that I do not condone taeil’s behaviour and that this is purely a work of fiction. my fic is not an accurate representation of taeil’s actual personality. 

part of @127-mile’s addiction collab

emotions were as foreign to moon taeil as brains and human flesh once were. while he doesn’t mind either of them, they were just very hard to come by. that changed when he got a job at the qian family’s mortuary, courtesy of qian kun, a mutual friend. johnny had already explained taeil’s special situation to kun, who agreed to give taeil access to the bodies so long as he worked as kun’s assistant. it was an excellent arrangement for both men - taeil could finally eat some proper food while kun finally had help. for obvious reasons, not many people were willing to work at a morgue, especially for such low wages.

taeil managed to ease himself into a routine of work, brains, sleep then repeat. while many people would eventually go insane from being constantly surrounded by cold, still bodies, taeil couldn’t care less. a zombie couldn’t ask for a better arrangement. while he did not experience emotions, he still felt a semblance of peace.

at least, that was before you showed up, completely unannounced. of course, your arrival wasn’t completely random, kun did warn taeil that his cousin was coming home after getting their phd, but you weren’t what taeil expected. he had this mental image of you being stoic and reserved. he thought you’d briefly acknowledge him with a slight nod while visiting your cousin and that would be it. imagine his surprise when he came to work and was greeted by a smile brighter than the sun. you were like the human embodiment of a meadow of flowers in the summer - warm, wonderful and welcoming. hell, you even smelled like flowers.

suddenly, his daily routine was ruined. 

most mornings, you would meet him at the mortuary, looking as fresh as a daisy, and hand him an equally fresh box of baked goods from the bakery next to your clinic. if it was a slow morning, and it usually was, you would make small talk with him while kun went over the day’s plans in his office. he began to cherish those morning conversations with you and his undead heart would sink when the clock struck nine and it was time for you to hug him and kun goodbye. from then on, he was usually in a sour mood for the rest of the day, not humouring the silly jokes kun made as they worked. he would get off work with a dull ache in his heart if you weren’t there to pick kun up or offer to take them out for drinks.

this abrupt change frightened taeil more than anything. why was he suddenly experiencing these strange feelings? he hated it. every day, he was going through a rollercoaster of emotions that would be decided by whether or not he saw his boss’ cousin. it was so absurd. in the past five years of him being a zombie, he hadn’t felt such extreme emotions before. they all felt so...so human.

when he consulted johnny about these strange occurrences, his friend began to howl with laughter, “dude, it’s so obvious!” 

taeil glared at johnny, “care to explain what exactly is so obvious?”

“you like y/n. why else would you be constantly pining for them?” 

taeil scoffed. johnny must have smoked something because there was no way he liked you. at best, he had known you for three months and it isn’t like you regularly spent time together. plus, you were related to his boss. johnny had no idea what he was talking about, he was full of shit.

“that’s bullshit. I don’t buy it,” taeil shook his head, leaning back in his chair.

“no I swear, it’s true! we drove past this factory and they were just beheading these chickens out in the open,” you sighed. “anyway, the sight was so sickening, I’ve never looked at meat the same way since.”

“yet you decided to be a thoracic surgeon.”

you shrugged, “yeah but operating on people and eating meat are two different things. I don’t mind looking at flesh and blood but the thought of eating any makes me sick.”

taeil silently thanked you as you made that statement. ever since johnny had suggested that taeil liked you, he’d been searching for reasons not to like you. and of course, there’s no way he could like you if you were a vegetarian. you would be absolutely disgusted if you knew what his main diet consisted of. yet, every now and then, he felt his mind drifting away to a different mental list - a list of the things he liked about you.

he liked how you would come up with the most absurd conversation starters, just to make him crack a smile. he liked how your hugs were warm and comfortable. he was even beginning to like the fuzzy feeling that would envelop his heart whenever he was around you. you made him giddy and lovesick and eventually, he didn’t mind anymore. being around you all the time forced him to accept that he had very strong feelings for you. in fact, he was certain that even as a human, he had never had feelings this intense. there was just something special about you that had him feeling some sort of way. normally, he would have been afraid of how you controlled your heart but now? he was in too deep to care.

he decided it was better for him to just accept the fact that he loved you. why try to fight it? it was highly unlikely that he would feel this way about anyone ever again. he had to hold onto you, he would be insane to let you go. 

finally, he plucked up the courage to confess to you. he was falling for you more and more every single day, and not being with you was slowly killing him. he decided to surprise you at the clinic where you worked with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he planned to treat you to lunch at a romantic café then confess to you while walking you back to the clinic. he had rehearsed the little speech he wanted to give over twenty times with johnny, who repeatedly assured him that everything would go well. 

it did not go well.

taeil was greeted by a unpleasant surprise when he reached the entrance of the clinic. there you stood, his beloved y/n, in another man’s arms. taeil watched, horrified, as the man placed a soft kiss on your lips. you looked so happy with him and it broke taeil’s heart. he felt awful as he watched you smile at the man. that same wonderful smile that he wished was for his eyes only. it felt like a cruel joke to have your laughter fill his ears as tears pricked his eyes. taeil was glad that nobody was paying attention to him as hot tears stained his cheeks. he couldn’t have gotten away sooner, pushing past the people on the street to go home. 

he quickly texted an excuse to kun about how he felt sick and would be gone for the rest of the day. it wasn’t exactly a lie - he did feel sick and every time he thought about you and the stranger, it only got worse. he ripped up the bouquet and the plastic that had been wrapped around their stems, screaming as he did it. pain bled into fury as he destroyed the beautiful flowers. he was unbelievably angry and wouldn’t stop until every last petal had been snatched from the base and scattered on the floor. he was blinded by rage as he made a mess of his apartment floor. finally, the bouquet had been completely ripped apart and tears cleared taeil’s vision.

he dropped to the floor, feeling miserable as he stared at the mess, tears streaking down his face. he loved you so much, but someone had stolen you away. how dare that asshole? you were supposed to be taeil’s, how could he just come between the two of you like that? how incredibly selfish of him. taeil had to get rid of him, as soon as possible. the more time you spend with that jerk, the more he’ll ruin you. taeil scowled at the memory of the two of you kissing. he will pay.

 it was decided. taeil was going to make you his, one way or another. whether you liked it or not.

“I hate this, taeil.”

taeil nodded, feigning sympathy as you pouted and continued to complain, “doyoung’s been so busy the past week that he hasn’t been able to call me even once. he just sends brief texts… I really miss him.”

“that sucks, y/n, but you know, it’s a very demanding job.”

“yeah I know…but would it kill him to at least call to say good night?” you sighed, sipping your tea. “whatever. thank you so much for listening to my rant, taeil, I really appreciate it. you’re an awesome friend.”

the word stung, but taeil tried not to show it as he smiled and promised you that he didn’t mind. which was half true. taeil could never get tired of listening to you talk about any topic but one - kim doyoung, your boyfriend. it didn’t really matter, though. soon, taeil would make sure that you would forget all about that piece of shit. soon, moon taeil would be the only thing on your mind, just like how you were the only thing on his min

but first he had to punish you. you deserved it. if you hadn’t gone and dated another man, he wouldn’t have considered such a thing. you needed to be disciplined. you belonged to taeil and he was going to make sure that you remembered that fact. so he sat there in front of you, politely nodding as you vented about your boyfriend, and tried to think of a suitable punishment.

“I know I’m complaining about him a lot, but I really like doyoung,” you laughed. “even though he took me to a barbecue place for our first date.”

that’s when a lightbulb went off in taeil’s brain.

for someone who couldn’t survive without eating brains, taeil sure was an idiot. somehow, he’d gotten roped into a dinner date with you, doyoung and doyoung’s sister, jisoo. at least he managed to convince you to let him host the dinner at his apartment, insisting that he wanted to make a good first impression on jisoo. you’d wiggled your eyebrows and teased him about it but he knew, deep down, setting him up with someone else was hurting you. but you wouldn’t have to worry about hiding your feelings for much longer - taeil would soon relieve you of your misery. ideally of course, he wouldn’t want to start off your relationship with a double date with other people. not to mention your little punishment, but hey, all relationships have their ups and downs.

now if he could just get that pesky little jisoo out of the way.

after briefly stalking doyoung’s instagram account, taeil managed to find jisoo’s account and figured out where she worked. getting her to stay away was easier than he thought it would be. all he had to do was press a small knife against her neck and she was begging for him to leave her alone. he left her trembling in the alley behind her office, with her tears stinging the small cut that ran down the side of her cheek. he wasn’t worried about her telling her brother since that’s who he’d be visiting next.

he had to say, out of all the humans he’d made dishes out of, doyoung was certainly the best. probably because his meat was actually fresh, but you really seemed to enjoy him as well.

“god taeil, your spaghetti is wonderful. I can’t believe doyoung and jisoo are missing out,” you nearly moaned as you devoured your dinner. “these are the best vegan meatballs I’ve ever had. seriously, how’d you make this?”

taeil shrugged, “I used a pretty basic recipe, although I did use something extra special for those meatballs.”

“would you mind sharing what that special thing is, master moon?”

taeil’s smile dropped, his expression completely serious now. you didn’t think much of it, taeil was probably just being dramatic. however his tone as he spoke his next sentence sent a chill down your spine.

“enough dilly-dallying. tell me, sweetheart, did you really think you could get away with dating another man?”

you were too stunned to speak, what the fuck did he just say?

“woah, don’t get shy now. did you seriously think you could go be someone else's whore and I wouldn’t get mad?”

“taeil, what on earth are you talking about?”

you looked like a scared and helpless little rabbit and taeil would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel some type of way. taeil’s predatory gaze burned into your eyes, ensnaring you and refusing to let go. you were confused. why was taeil behaving like this? why was he so angry with you? but you were certain about one thing: tonight was not going to end well for you. 

with a gentle voice, you tried to calm him down so the two of you could have a rational conversation but taeil wasn’t having any of it. he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you up to your feet, stepping away from the dining table and pulling you close till your chest brushed against his. suddenly, his steely gaze slightly softened.

“y/n, my love, I hope you know that I didn’t want to do this to you, but you left me no choice. you forced my hand.”

tears were beginning to well up in your eyes. taeil was getting frustrated. you knew exactly what he was talking about yet you were acting as though taeil was speaking in cryptic messages. taeil noticed your tears and tsked, cupping your cheeks. there was no point in you crying now. the deed was done. taeil was hoping you’d learnt your lesson so the two of you could move past this.

“don’t cry, sweetheart. at least, not until you know what I did.”

“but taeil, I don’t even know what I’ve done,” you sniffed lightly.

“darling, I love you. and I know you love me too, you don’t need to say it. but why did you have to go and date doyoung? do you know how much that hurt me?”

you shook your head, “taeil, I really didn’t know how you felt. but I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.”

taeil glared and tightened his grip on your jaw, “fucking lies! that dickhead doyoung has brainwashed you. oh my precious y/n, I feel so awful for punishing you the way I did, but how else will I fix you?”

“what do you mean?” you asked, afraid of the answer he was going to give you.

“those vegan meatballs, darling. although I suppose the term ‘doyoung meatballs’ would be more accurate.”

your beautiful features were twisted into a look of pure horror as realisation dawned upon you. taeil couldn’t help but let his lips form a maniacal grin. he was rather proud, even if he did say so himself. doyoung would never be a problem ever again. nor would anyone else be, for that matter. taeil knew that you were his good, obedient little y/n. you wouldn’t dare to hurt him ever again. satisfied, he leaned in and forced you into a kiss. you were too shocked to fight back.

as he pulled away, he pushed the hair out of your face.

“remember to behave yourself, darling.”

#nct 127 #nct #moon taeil #nct taeil #nct writings #nct fics #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 x reader #moon taeil x reader #taeil x reader #taeil angst #yandere!nct #yandere au #zombie au #nct au #yandere!taeil #nct horror

[epicbasher65685]

(Soo yeah a few people wanted to read this so here it is. sorry I can’t write for anything but I tried my hardest to get my head cannon across)

TW: descriptions of blood and gore, abuse

“What a fantastic song! No one could ever go wrong with the brilliant song “Let’s Misbehave” by none other than the darb Cole Porter!” Alastor exclaimed excitedly with his powerful transatlantic accent into the microphone. “Truly a marvelous performance. Anywho! The bayou killer strikes again! That’s right folks you heard it here first! The bayou killer claims their 11th victim! Oh the tragedy! There seems to be a pattern in this killer’s cycle. The moon cycle! Who would’ve guessed? And who will be the twelfth on the full moon? What kind of monster from hell could possibly cause this much pain and torture to both the victims and their families?” He questioned the listeners. His smile grew bigger at his sarcastic yet genuine sounding empathy. Deep within him he knew there was none. If he tried to look any deeper in himself the only thing we would find would be the rumbling of his stomach and it’s almost snickering like sounds, laughing mischievously and knowingly at his sarcastic line of questioning. Alastor reached over and closed the report he was reading from with a resounding thud, a look of accomplishment graced his face. The listeners were shocked with the news, seeing that the killer is still at large and could pounce on them or their loved ones at any moment. “Lock your doors and stay safe ladies and gentlemen! This concludes tonight’s broadcast. Oh oh! Almost forgot the regularly scheduled joke! Just to lighten the mood a bit. What happened when the cannibal was late for dinner? He got the cold shoulder! Ahahahahaha! See you tomorrow folks, stay safe!” He said brightly as he ended his radio broadcast, turning off his equipment and microphone.

The streets were full of Ebullience and joyful spirit. The year was 1933. New Orleans, Louisiana was really quite a marvelous and interesting place to live. Alastor McCarthy walked down the sidewalk in his clean white shirt and suspenders, shoes polished so thoroughly you can see the bright sun and the blue sky reflecting off of it! All the Cadillacs and Buicks cruised down the smoothly paved road. Almost everyone in this town knew Alastor. And Alastor knew almost everyone just as well. The lovely people waved as they saw him walk by, and he of course would wave back with a friendly smile on his face. He was always smiling! One happy fellow indeed, everyone would imagine. He walked down the sidewalk with a pep in his step softly humming to the bustling jazz that played from the gramophones in the nearby shops. He was making his way home now, it was almost supper and he needed to help his mother prepare it! Oh yes, Alastor loved his mother dearly, she was a true light in his life. People like to tease him sometimes and call him somewhat of a mama's boy. He would be lying if he protested this though. He truly loved his mother. His father, however, he did not. Just the thought of him made Alastors smile falter, just a smidge. He was a real goof, and a drunk. Alastor despised him, but only put up with him because his mother still loved him. Alastor could never see what an amazing woman like herself could ever find in a hunk of junk like him.

The noise of the streets died down as he started to approach his neighborhood. The walk from the radio station to his house was only a 30 minute or so walk. He figured it was good exercise and also an efficient way to build up his appetite. When Alastor wasn’t doing his radio broadcasts, he would find himself hunting deer in the nearby bayou. His father showed him how to hunt when he was a young boy. He had mastered the art of hunting and butchering the creatures he captured. Whether it be deer, rabbit, boar… human. His mother taught him the culinary arts, which he soon too mastered. He would help his mother prepare jambalaya, his favorite dish, when he was younger. He reminisced about those good ol’ days. Well, most of it at least. He had finally arrived home.

“Hello mother! Father.” He called out into the calm house. He took his shoes off and saw his mother appear from the kitchen.

“Oh! Alastor, how I’ve missed you dear.” She said lovingly as she ran toward Alastor to hug him. “How was your day? Anything exciting happening down in that ol’ radio station? I completely forgot to tune in today. Silly me. Apologies!”

“No need mother, it was just business as usual, quite copacetic! We had our top music hits and, well, a quite shocking report on the bayou killer.” Alastor explained

“Oh? Was he murdered? Oh oh! Caught by the fuzz? Hot dawg!” She exclaimed in excitement.

“...No mother, he was not. Always jumping to conclusions! Ahahaha. My, that’s just like you!” He said. Her words pained him only in the slightest. She obviously disliked this killer. Yet she unknowingly loved this said killer more than anyone else. He felt a sick giddy because of this. Why, he found it quite humorous! How twisted. “He’s claimed his 11th victim, unfortunately.” He said with a softer voice.

“Oh dear… how horrible. I can’t believe he’s getting away with this! Someone has to stop him eventually.” She said with sadness in her eyes. Alastor didn’t like to see her like this, not ever!

“Yes I know, quite the tragedy I’m sure. I heard he was a rude man however, a real dewdropper as some may say! The man had nothing going for him anyways.” He explained, or rather explained himself, for that matter.

“Darlene, when the hell is that dinner going to be finished?” Gus, Alastors father, yelled from the living room couch. He had just finished his twelfth beer of the day. Alastor could hear the subtle clinks of the glass bottle against the cup holder. Indicating that yes, he had indeed gotten drunk again.

“It’ll be ready in about half an hour dear!” She yelled back, Completely forgetting about the news of the bayou killer. An audible groan sounded from the living room in response.

“Alastor, would you be a dear and help me peel the potatoes for dinner?” She questioned

“Of course mother! Let’s get started then shall we?” Alastor asked joyfully.

Once dinner was prepared and the table was set, Alastor’s mother called for Gus to come and eat. Another audible groan sounded from the living room as Gus managed to stand up, very blotto from all his drinks. Without anyone seeing, Alastor was quick to drop a pill into Gus’s drink at the table. He then turned away and started to whistle an innocent jazz tune.

“Oh, Alastor, I almost forgot about the pie in the oven. Would you mind taking it out for me and cutting it’s pieces?” She asked him kindly. Alastor responded with a quick ‘yep!’ and put on the oven mitts. He took the pie out and put it on the stove. He took his mitts off and placed them back on the counter, only to replace them with a knife. Without hesitation he stuck the knife into the steaming pie. It smelt like delicious baked cherries. The pie oozed red juice and covered the knife. He continued to cut even slices into the beautiful pie. He stared longingly at his work, admiring the precise cuts and the knife dripping red juice. He licked the knife clean and saw his father's reflection walking into the room when he looked at the knife. He stared for a moment, then put the knife into the sink. Gus finally arrived at the table as everyone sat down.

“So what do we have here?” Gus questioned as he occasionally hiccuped. He had messy black hair and his eyes were half lidded. He wore a black vest with his tie sloppily tied.

“Well I made venison, mashed potatoes, and beans for tonight. That damn venison was quite tricky to cook, but hopefully I got it just right.” She explained

“I’m sure it turned out great, mother.” He smiled at her. Alastor eyed his father as he sat down. Gus started digging in with the slightest amount of politeness. Hungrily shoving the food into his mouth. Alastor sighed and picked up his utensils to start eating.

“What is it boy? You’ve got something to say?” He snapped at Alastor. Glaring at him with whatever amount of sobriety he had left.

“No, sir.” Alastor responded while staring at his plate. He hated this. He hated his father and he hated how he treated both him and his mother. Not to mention how rude he was. All of the bayou killers victims reminded him of his father. What a coincidence huh? No, he chose them very carefully, and he planned out every bit of it. Every time he killed them he imagined as though the person was truly his father. It gave him satisfaction and it quenched his thirst, for the time being. But this thirst would always reappear. He could never get rid of it through these involuntary murders of his, and he knew this. He knew it would only be a matter of time before… he would claim his final victim. That’s all Alastor thought about when he looked his father in the eyes. The twelfth. The twelfth. The twelfth. The second full moon. It will complete his design.

“Whatever,” He sneered at Alastor. Gus downed his drink in a few gulps. Alastor watched with a smile. Then Gus began to cut into the venison, and suddenly there was an irritated look on his face. “This venison is overcooked.” He started while he looked up at Darlene.

“Oh, yes I was afraid that might happen…” Darlene quietly said with a look of disappointment appearing on her face.

“Isn’t that just perfect? Maybe you should learn how to cook properly instead of having a gay ol’ time dancing swing like a flapper at the club down the road. Dumb-Dora can’t do anything right can you? Darlene was taken back by his sudden outburst. She apologized and told him it wouldn’t happen again with a tinge of fear spreading on her face and tears threatening to breach her eyes.

“Well, actually, I do have something to say,” Alastor said as he interrupted his mother’s apologies. “Maybe if you stopped getting bent everyday like a normal person, maybe people might actually like you! You’re such a flat tire and a real boozehound. You think it’s ok to treat us like this? For crying out loud you’ve been doing this for years! You just futz around and do whatever you want, when you want, and how you want!” Alastor exclaimed loudly at his father while eyeing him with a scornful look. He wasn’t going to let him talk to his mother that way, no sir! Enough was enough. Darlene looked at Alastor in shock. She really can’t believe he said that to him. A wave of panic hits her knowing what’s going to come next.

“Why, you little! How dare you talk to me like that? I come home after a long day and this is what I get? A cheap meal and a disrespectful family?” Gus’s voice grew louder and louder with every word he spoke. He pointed to Alastor. “You… I’ll wipe that stupid smile off your face permanently!” Gus stood up and walked over to Alastors side of the table. Alastor and Darlene stood up quickly, knowing this situation is about to become physical.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Darlene shouted as she grabbed hold of Alastors arm. Alastor backed up while the adrenaline started coursing through his veins. Gus took hold of Darlene and threw her against the counter. She fell on the way down with a yelp hitting her head on the edge of the counter. Darlene’s vision started to blur and soon after she drifted into unconsciousness as she heard the faint yelling of Alastor.

“You absolute madman! Now look what you’ve done. You’re some real tough guy hm? Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy my next show, you’re the super important participant, after all!” Alastor said with a growing smile. His creole accent slipping out for only a moment as he yelled. “Aren’t you excited?”

“What are you… talking about..?” Gus talked as his words became sloppy and quiet. The once calming and peaceful kitchen warping and turning in place as his vision grew cloudy and dark. His eyes lidded fully, the last thing he saw before he fell to the ground was Alastors prideful smile. Alastor thought Gus would pull something like this. All this commotion, that is. Yet it was in the back of his mind as was planning out his demise. He stared at Gus for a good while, lying there helplessly. Although this isn’t exactly how he planned it out, he was still ultimately satisfied with the outcome. That is, until he remembered his mother lying on the ground. Her nicely combed and silky brunette hair in a bun was now frizzing out everywhere, the bun loosened from the altercation. Her lids shielding her innocent blue eyes to what has become of her husband, and the truth of her faithful son. Alastor slowly picked her up and placed her on the couch. He took an ice pack from the kitchen and placed it on the noticeable bump on her forehead.

“Do wake up soon, won’t you?” He whispered to her. He kissed her forehead and made his way into the kitchen. He managed to pick his father up with a few strained breathes, grabbed the knife out of the sink, and walked out the backdoor.

It was about 8pm now, and the sun had already cast its final flare. Only to replace it, was a thoughtless moon. Alastor navigated his way throughout his backyard and soon into the bayou unseen. Gus remained unconscious and hung over Alastors shoulder. Once Alastor traversed deep enough into the bayou. He tied Gus up to an old bald cypress tree. It’s leaves spaced out enough to let the moonlight fall and flicker between them. A few moments later, Gus finally awoke to a conscious state. Confused and dazed to where he was, and how he got there.

“Hello lucky contestant! Welcome to my show!” Alastor exclaimed in a cheerful announcer voice.

“Al? Where.. where the hell am I?” He said in a choked voice. He tried to move his arms, but they were restrained by a tightly tied rope. “What the hell are you doing?” He said as his voice wavering. Alastor took out his knife and walked slowly up to Gus. Gus watched every little movement Alastor made, his adrenaline rising with each step.

“Oh you poor thing. Haven’t you realized what’s happening by now?” Alastor teased as he lunged playfully forward, causing Gus to gasp and defensively lean back in the tree. ‘How pathetic’ Alastor thought to himself. “What? Don’t tell me your giving me the cold shoulder! Ahahahahahaha!” Alastor laughed at his silly little inside joke. He lowered himself to Gus’s level on the ground and pointed the knife at his chest. “Boy that thing must be pounding! I think I’ll eat your heart first!” Alastor exclaimed once again. Gus’s face was pale with fear as the knife slowly etched its way inside of his chest, blood soaking his already stained shirt. He screamed in excruciating pain as Alastor carved all the way down to his waistline. Exposing his organs and blood to the everlasting moonlight. Gus writhed in pain as he looked Alastor in the eyes.

“Y-you…killed them?” Gus managed to choke out. Disbelief filled his eyes.

“Hmm? Oh! That’s correct!” Alastor said while he backed up, admiring his work. Alastor looked down at his hands and his cuffed sleeves. The blood dripping off of his hands was much more black then the usual dark red.

“My! The mother was right! Blood really does look black in the moonlight,” He said. His smile unwavering and as prominent as always. That was the last thing Gus saw as his vision started to melt away for the last time. Alastor kneeled beside Gus and pulled out his heart behind his rib cage. He took a big bite from it without hesitation, just like how one would eat an apple. He noted that it tasted almost the same as a deers.

Soon after, a sudden rush of panic struck Alastor as he heard a males voice calling close by. He quickly turned toward the sound and saw multiple men in the distance holding flashlights pointing in Alastors direction. He hopped to his feet in a frenzy and ran deeper into the bayou. It was dark and he could barely see where he was running, but all he knew was that he needed to get away. It was only a matter of time the cops had found him. The pattern was quite obvious, Alastor knew. Yet, he thought it was orderly and scheduled, and that was something he’s always taken to heart. As he was running, he recalled his fondest memories and previous murders as the cops chased him on his tail. He knew this was it for him, unless he could throw them off somehow. Quickly, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a figure. It was a lone deer. It looked him in the eye without movement. The deer eyed him knowingly. The full moon shining between its broad antlers.

Suddenly, the night and day remembered how they came to be. Alastor glared back at this deer, his smile wavering as he was shot dead in the forehead with a rifle. He fell to the ground as his smile fell completely. A hunter had missed the deer, accidentally shooting Alastor killing him instantly. Surely it was too dark for the hunter to have seen him. There was no hope for him. Then, the deer quickly ran off into the deep bayou startled from the shadow of nobody there.

#um chile anyways so #alastor #hazbin hotel #heres my poorly written head cannon #fanfic #human alastor

[vylequinnewriting]

Telvan Tale: Whale of a Time

Here’s the first Telvan Tale! (More information can be found here) It’s probably one of the most horrific ones I’ll write so viewer discretion is advised. It’s heavily inspired by a mix of myths around Alcatraz and typical slasher story tropes. Instead of writing of a retelling of the urban legend, I instead chose to write the truth that no one knows. 

Content Rating: Mature

Content Warnings (send me an ask if you think of a tag that should be added): Graphic violence, blood & gore, murder, forced captivity,  cannibalism, death, extensive body horror, war (mentioned), memory loss

Word Count: 2374

Telvan Tale Taglist (ask to be added/removed): 

General Taglist (ask to be added/removed): @ecwrenn

“The best time in my life was when I went to Kromhold.”

“Well golly, that makes me feel great to hear but you don’t look like you're having a whale of a time.” I laugh heartily. Not much I can do for him besides try to lighten the mood. 

“I mean before all the barbed wire and concrete.” He takes his head out of his hands and looks off to the window. I know that look, I invented it. It isn't focused on what’s here or what’s to come, is to look back on what was. He didn’t need to say much past that. He’s told me plenty about him and where we are. His tone is genuine and his gaze is forlorn enough that I can’t help but feel pity for him. 

My friend here talks about Kromhold when it was under a different name. I remember those days but not as clearly as him. This was back when it was a castle open to all instead of a fortress designed to contain and isolate. One could enter for a pittance and in exchange be given a memory worth a lifetime. Decadent foodstuffs lined every street. A friend lurking behind every corner. Every poster, every coat of paint, every leaf was prim and proper. I’s were dotted and T’s were crossed. It was wonderfully, perfectly, saccharine. All thanks to an anonymous benefactor, Bellanaya was able to stay open for years, ensuring at least three generations had seen its glistening walls. That was the past, and all that’s left now is a bitter aftertaste.

“What was your favorite part? Mine was the whale watching. I could catch up with the whole family from right on the beach.” Another jest, but what could I do, tell the truth?

“The teacups.” He nodded, as if to agree with himself. “Definitely the teacups.”

“You always striked me as a coffee person.”

“No, no,” waving his arms like he’s swatting away my witty retort. “The ride. Never could handle most of the others, even the bumper cars would tumble my stomach around like a washing machine. I threw up plenty of times on the trip here. “ He looks out the window and locks eyes with the sky.

Even in the past he wasn’t worth his salt it seems. It’s fair I suppose, the only thing he has to hang onto is me after all. Even his skin looks ready to leave him. Dry and gray, it clung to his bones shivering with shallow, dissonant breaths. He had to look better than this at some point, if he’d been here back in the heyday. The cars were taken out around the 14th year of business. Another 11 before we had to close up shop. Back then his name wouldn’t have mattered, only how much he was willing to spend. They needed it more than he would. But just like everything else, discounts and promotions wouldn’t help what was to come.

He takes a break from his staring match and sighs. “How’d this happen? You were here from when the park was still a park, weren’t you? What happened?” 

I let loose a giggle. Unintentional and all it does is serve to unnerve him. We’ve had this conversation so many times I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this situation. Despite all the trust I’ve cultivated with him, he has troubling matching eyes with me. Granted, all he can do is look down at me from this position. “You aren’t from around here are you? From the south I bet, beyond the sea and all?” He doesn’t need to answer yes, he’s already talked about the plains where he lived enough for me to guess with certainty. I continue, “The same thing happened to this place that happened everywhere. Money was the only thing keeping us in business. Memories stopped being made and started being sold. Then the war hit the mainland. We were ready to shut down and leave, but that wasn’t an option with the flames licking away at the island. So we stayed. When all was said and done, the Sangreguila came and forced us to stay open. As you can see, the objective was still to give our visitors memories they wouldn’t be able to forget. This time they couldn’t leave.” 

He curls up into a ball at the foot of his cot. “Zastüd didn’t help.” He couldn’t help but shudder and sniffle after uttering those words. For some it was a victory the likes of which no one had seen, and for others it was a loss felt around the world. He fell into the later camp it seems. A shame.

“Wiping a city off the map didn’t do much for international relationships. Not to mention Zastüd was a technological marvel. It was even worse that they couldn’t find out who did it. After everyone was done pointing fingers, they picked a couple patsies to throw in here and tossed the key in the ocean. They wanted to make a place for just the absolute worst society had to offer. People who wanted the world to burn and chose to do so with their own hands. Just like you.” Those words hurt him, but I know he couldn’t redirect his anger at me. I’d been his only friend since he arrived here in Kromhold. 

Gods, I hate that name. Cold and hard, so I guess it's at least truthful. Bellanaya was such a better name. Regardless, Kromhold did it’s best to break him down but he refused. He was innocent, after all. When he’d first arrived he was greeted with a fist to the mouth. Despite his absolutely rancid reputation and overpowering stature, he fell apart at the first sign of a conflict. Being given what was in essence a death sentence didn’t help his confidence either. Those who wanted fights found a whimpering dog. Those who wanted friends found a monster only held back by a tight leash. But then he found me.

I’ve been the only companion this poor boy has known. I’ve given myself the task of helping him throughout this trial. The only way I can is to help him remember. The good times, the bad times, the times in between, they all fade away with a nice rosy pink when you look back on them. It was my Mother who first told me about what I could do. She once had it herself but thought it better to give it to me. “People will always forget about you until they need you,” she said. I’ve always hated that word. Forget. I still took the gift gratefully, it was my Mother’s and to have anything from her was the greatest honor. Even now, that gift is the only thing I have of value. It’s all the boy has needed fortunately. As long as I flash a smile or say some outdated slogan he stays sated for the day. It’s a small price to pay for what he’s done for me. He always forgets the next day or sometimes even right after I’m done speaking but I’ll always start talking to him the next time he asks.

“Oh gawrsh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Best friends don’t hurt best friends right?” I squirmed over and offered a “hand”.

 He looks up and wipes his face. He appears to mull it over but I know his answer. He takes my loose fibers in his claws and mutters, “Friends till the end.” 

I hate being in this position but it’s the only way I’m still here. At least I’m not in the same situation as the other mascots. They usually “enforce” the rules around here along with the standard armed guards. One of the boys on my friend’s block snapped and stabbed one, only to find out it was another prisoner. Warden made sure they stayed in character and kept silent, permanently. The rumor was the Warden wore the suits too, but no one had the fortitude to try and hunt him down after the first incident. The boy came to me that day, crying up a storm. Took ages to calm him down. When he could finally look me in the eye, I didn’t miss the gleam in his eye. It came from a deep, dark place that even he didn’t know he had. Perfect, I thought. 

Many a day and night has passed and that boy has turned into an old man. He’ll still be a boy to me, bright eyed and gentle, not wanting to hurt a fly. This place changed him. It made him rough and broken. This is one of the few days he can speak to me with clarity. Normally, he can’t help but keep looking out that window and hoping for something different. I think it’s high time I gave that to him. This is not the first time I’ve said these words, but I believe it is the first time he’ll hear them. 

“Do you remember your first day here? They needed five men to drag you in. All you could do was scream ‘I’m innocent’. That didn’t matter to them. Everyone in here could be innocent of their crimes but the guards don’t care. Still, they needed five to bring you in, and that wasn’t even with you trying, bud.” 

He looks wide-eyed. Confused, even. Enough to register what I said. That’s all the proof I need to continue. 

“Do you remember the day you met me?” He shakes his head. Words escape him and so does the memory. “I remember it like it was yesterday. I was just a scratch on the floor and a prayer sitting in between the walls. Forgotten. All I could do was sit, wait and listen. And then you came in. You wanted to never forget. Not Kromhold, but Bellanaya. It was pretty shoddy workmanship but you made a burlap sack into the spitting image of Wilfredo the Whale. You know, me! I scared you half to death the first time I talked but we’ve been friends since then.”

He grinned ear-to-ear. Revealing a row of sharpened, yellow teeth. Not fit for anything but meat. Ironic since all he’s eaten for the past couple of years is gruel.

 “I remember.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“Excuse me?” He’s a bit taken aback. Understandable but unwanted and unnecessary. All I need is a “yes”, not a “yes and”. 

“What would you do if I said I could take you back? To the days where you were free. No man could control you. If they tried, they’d learn why they shouldn’t. You are the only important person to me. I can’t let you rot in this cell.”

“What do you mean you can take me back?” There wasn’t disbelief in his voice, only contemplation. They love it when you play the hero. Thanks for teaching me that lesson, Lecuto. What a wonderful Sister. 

“I can give you back your body, silly. All you need is to put me on your head. Say the magic words, then watch as the magic happens.”

He thought for a second. And then another second. He did not take a third. Years upon years of friendship does that. I waited initially, just to add a sense of suspense. I’d do my Mother wrong if I didn’t have a dramatic flair. 

“What are the magic words?” There was a slight tremble to his voice. He didn’t believe something so incredulous despite my entire existence. Hilarious.

“There aren’t any.”

My body didn’t have much to offer as it was, so I could do little besides spread my fibers. A bit of resistance and they began to slink under the skin. All the natural pathways of his body were too easy to explore, invade, and conquer. He didn’t have much to offer in terms of a protest. Was it shock that I’d betray him so easily or was it a staunch belief that I’d help him? 

It mattered little in the face of what I was presented with. All the juicy goods he’d amassed over the years sitting in front of me like a feast before a king. The first birthday he could remember was light and refreshing in a place like this. Benito, his childhood hound was next to go, rich and flavorful, like his surprisingly long life span. Almost fifteen years, that one. As delicious as they were, they were unimportant. 

Ah, here it is. 

His first kill. The rage. The bloodlust. The emptiness. The overwhelming fear. And finally, hunger. 

He’d never truly been strong, especially when it comes to impulse control. The other piece I’d needed came soon after, about five or so years. Countless bodies scoured those days but none were like the first. He became complacent and slow. He wanted to savor the meal rather than simply consume. When he was caught he had nothing but regret. He said plenty that meant nothing to the Sangreguila. It wasn’t his hands that made the first cut. He wasn’t there to bathe in blood, he merely slipped onto a scene and unsuccessfully tried to make himself scarce. That wasn’t flesh stuck between his teeth, he just so happened to rip into livestock with reckless abandon moments earlier. 

I could tell some didn’t deserve the pain Kromhold had  inflicted upon them. My friend here was not one of those poor souls. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why they didn’t shoot him right then and there. Haven’t they heard the saying “a legend is made when someone hides the truth?” 

When I was done sifting through his head, I drained out all that wasn’t important. I didn’t require much magic to remold his shape back to those years. He still remembered them fondly somewhere deep down. Muscles atrophied by years of misuse and malnutrition now pulsed with power. Legs that trembled with each step stood straight. Teeth that reeked of disease and looked a putrid yellow instead became fierce, white fangs. A perfect weapon to be used by me. I couldn't have wished for a better present. Now only one thing was left.  To leave this prison behind with a trail of terror. 

No one will ever forget me again.

#telvan #telvan tales #short stories #writeblr #writing #creative writing #writing community #vylequinne #fantasy #age of the rebel

[writinginmygravern]

Cannibalism (Ticci Toby x Reader)

So this is my first shortfic on this blog so please bare with me as I usually don't write fanfiction on my phone and I won't be able to break the text so I apologize for that in advance. Also, this oneshot contains some graphic stuff and isn't meant to be all cutesy.

T.W.'s: Mentions of blood,kinda gore-ish, starvation, kidnapping, cannibalism, and manipulation.

You sat in a dark and lock closet arms and legs chained to a short, metal post much like a dog who was left outside without any food or water for days from its absent master. Your stomach gargled and howled at you begging for anything to satisfy the emptiness that has been growing from these past three days as well as your tongue feeling like it could sand down drywall as the lack of water was taking its toll as well. Heavy boots could be heard time to time - but hardly walk into the room with said closet you were in - either walking into the room next to yours to grab whatever he planned on taking or in the kitchen with the fridge opening and closing before he left once again. But today those heavy stomps from his work boots echoed into your room as he whistled and mumbled a tune that was familiar to your childhood.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away."

The closet door slid open to reveal him with his curly, messy, and greasy brunette hair and his ember eyes staring down at you with the corners crinkling as if you were the highlight of his day. His hand held a bowl that had held the same meal he has fed you for the past couple of months and was most likely laced with something to knock you out once again so he could "take care of you". Toby set the porcelain bowl in front of you before cheerfully stating, "Time to eat, (Y/N)!" The stench of iron and raw meat hit your nose as you looked down and felt as though you might vomit - that is if you had anything to chuck up. Even though this wasn't the first time he has fed you human meat you still had the same reaction each time he tried to force it down your throat and made you watch him take a few bites out of it too.

"Toby... Please... No... I don't want too," your voice was too weak to properly plead for him to reconsider your meal and find you something else. Toby's smile soon fell and became an emotionless, blank stare then finally into a angry frown. "After all tha-that hard work ju-just to get a sp-special meal for my dar-darling... You're g-g-gonna tell me no," Toby harshly spat as he grinded his teeth and struggled to get his sentence out as his head violently snapped and turned due to his tics while his fists kept clamping and unclamping out of anger. His mood doing a full one-eighty startled you, causing you to start shaking and covering your face with your arms out of fear of him hurting you. Realizing what he did Toby reached out to you and held you're frail and boney body closely to him as his mood twisted into a sadden state of regret for scaring you like that.

"No, n-no, no... P-p-please I'm sorry, d-don't cry, (Y/N)... I-I wouldn't ever h-hurt you," Toby's tics became more rapid in shoulders as they shrugged and rolled and his words chopped up by his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth. You stayed still, not hugging the brunette back because of your restraints. Uncontrolled sobbing soon could be heard next to your ear as Toby clinged on tighter, practicality squishing you death with a bone crushing hug making think if he let you go he would feel like you would disappear right in front of him. Not to soon after the boy let go of you and grabbed a slice of meat from the bowl next to the two of you, yanked your jaw down much to your disliking, and shoved the piece into your mouth a quickly as possible before demanding you chew or else there will be consequences if his orders were disobeyed. Without much choice you forcely swolled the wretched thing while also fighting back for it to come back up.

"Good! N-now you have to finish the r-rest my dear," voice laced with glee, Toby waited for you to open your mouth without his help this time to finish the rest of the bowl.

In your head you plead for help to hopefully be saved from this horrible man one day.

I know this one wasn't the greatest since my English sucks but yay for posting my first thing on this blog I guess (?)

#Toby Erin Rodgers #Gore #X Reader #I know he isn't a creepypasta so not tagging him as one #Came up with this at like 1 in the morning #Cannibalistic Toby #Oneshot(?) #Also my english sucks

[coconutnunnicorn]

A Thousand Lives Begin with One

As Told by A Monster will be featured in several instalments, please make sure to block IoS and [from my results anyway] it should keep you from ever stumbling across IoS like content which often features the triggers above. It IS capital sensitive.

Bellowing aggressively through the cosmos, her voice rang with absolute finality, “You can pretend all you like, but I’m not delusional.” Quieter now, her ethereal sound whispered into existence a prophecy, “Someday you’re going to have to wake up, and when you do, I will be there. Hear me swear on my mark,” the sacred silver slid through greyish blue flesh, “when the Sky meets the Sea you shall awaken from your sacred seat. With your wake I shall take my place, across the land I will pass my judgment.” Smearing the shimmering ooze over the glass tanks surface. “We will meet again, you cannot hide from me.”

TW: Mentions of death, insanity, carnage, kidnapping.

Imagine if you could, a world where everything was made of light, a plane of existence where everything was in a constant state of peace. Could you picture what that would be like for a girl who absolutely despised a leisurely days stroll? Imagine cracking your own skull to scoop out your aching brain, and multiply it by a thousand. Boredom so deep it could, quite literally, make you cry. Now imagine meeting the most interesting person by absolute chance, an absolute open book of contradictions. A being who was not made of light, but rather a solid mass of dirt, flora, and fauna. Across the surface moved strange patches of white, imagine a creature that constantly made some kind of sound. A woman who smelled of what sunshine should in the mind of someone who dreamed of far off places, places this woman was from. 

Her name had been a sound that could never be put into words, but she said the little people that sometimes popped up inside her head would call her, Earth. The woman was accompanied by a slew of others, an ever exchanging mix, the only constants ever being the ones who called themselves, the Lunar and Solar Stars, or just the Moon and Sun. Earth had explained that she simply couldn’t exist without one or the other, both absolutely essential to her every waking moment. 

Imagine how easy it would be to fall in love.

“I am forever, I am eternity, I am life and death, I am the sky and the sea. I am the very thing that keeps these parasites alive.” a sickening gesture was made toward the odd smoggy coloured masses that had cropped up almost overnight. “I live in all times, at all time, sometimes it’s confusing and people dont always understand.” A pause, a chat over drinks turning serious, the Stars nowhere in sight, but they can still be felt lurking somewhere in the darkness. Low her voice would turn almost sinister, “But they understand power, do you understand power?” 

Imagine being a being of absolute light, and knowing you hold absolute power in this realm. You were literally called forth from the void by the will of the very Stars, Stars they claimed to be. Imagine realizing one day that you have absolutely no idea what is really happening around you, like some kind of awakening, imagine becoming aware that the very ground you live on belongs to something else. Something bigger, so much bigger than yourself that to be meeting another in person was enough to leave you reeling in confusion. 

“Do,” a rather  thoughtful pause, “you want to come with me?”

Imagine being given a day to think about a choice that would forever change your life in a way you had absolutely no control over. Imagine giving yourself completely over to an outside force, trusting it to protect and provide for you. Imagine being warned before you make your decision that things couldn’t ever be undone, you could never return home, you would have to live forever with this being so different from you. “Is that something you think you could live with?” 

They called her a Star snatcher, a World Eater, a conquer of Gods and Titans. Her mood ever-fickle, her loyalty always changing on a whim. It always depended on how she felt at the time, and if she was in the right place to make kind choices. To be merciful. Imagine never believing that.

Seeing first hand the kind of monster the love of your life could be, the bile you had never known before rising from the back of your throat. Think of the way your eyes would burn for the first time as the sick expelled itself before you. “Awe,” a soft tisking tone, “Are you not feeling well, do you want me to take you home?” Imagine the casual tone of a killer as they pull a cloth from thin air to clean your shoes with. The soft kindness in everchanging blue orbs that seemed to only exist for you, Imagine seeing the sharp contrast of red sprayed against pale blues, browns, and greens that made up the ‘flesh’ of your best friend. Over the years and time spent with you, imagine the way she would change to fit your expectations of life.  

A land covered in a vast expanse of wildlife, a world rich with nature and all its ethereal horrors and wonders. A world where trees touched the skies and rivers were so clear you could see the bottom of a bottomless pit. Imagine it being your new home, and knowing you can never go back to a world of light and pain-free bliss. 

Imagine still being in love.

Imagine it taking a catastrophic event for you to learn that you have almost absolute power here in the realm of the solid as well, the power of creation. The Sun had fallen to the Moon in an estranged reality, a deep falling out leading to the undoing of almost an entire eternities worth of existence. Imagine delving your hands into the waters of a dying planet while holding the actual heart of another Star, imagine suffering the searing heat of a dying Sun. The person Earth had turned into as she died was the ugliest you could have ever imagined, think about the moment you felt the free-falling fear of a chair slipping out from under you. Imagine racing through a land you could never hope to know better than your hunter, clutching a dying Star to your chest, throwing yourself to the edges of the pond you did at least know. Imagine doing that while the person you cared for the most hunted you down.

Resurrecting a Star isn’t easy, and it isn’t without its consequences. Everyone paid a price that day. 

Earth was never the same, to start there was now two, each a twisted mirror of one another, looking the same and yet disturbingly different. Neither choosing to actually address or acknowledge the other, they would make wishes or comments and the other would just move into action. It wasn’t always that way though, they regularly acted independently, one would wreak carnage unlike previously seen and the other would simply step in if they thought it was out of control and put an end to it.

Imagine constantly being addressed regularly by two people you dont know, who cant seem to see one another, but are constantly flocking and doting on you as if you’d vanish without their constant watch. Imagine never seeing the Stars or the person you loved the most ever again. Imagine watching one of your, now, precious pair being skewered by a beast you brought in from the outreaches of space. Imagine stumbling across them, “Go, Find Kayton, they will protect you.” Imagine finding that very person who had once coddled you with such absolution, and they simply look away as a figure you never thought you’d ever see again dragged you away to a place you never belonged. 

Imagine dying in a world where you can never really die. 

Imagine living a thousand different lives.

This Story can and will contain triggers such as mentioned below at certain times. 

TW:

Mentions of Death,  Death, Graphic Death, Carnage, Torture, Blood, Gore, Mentions of abuse, Abuse of most kinds [Some of this gets dark], Cannibalism, Cults, Deranged views

#A Thousand Lives Begin with One #origonal content #Earth #a world of light and love #a land of skies and seas #sky and sea #kayton and nova #planets #stars #angst #romance #otherworldly #sadness #suffering #alternate realities #As Told by A Monster #This is constantly changing

[cryptiboy]

morgue talks about musicals (for beginners)

you ever see those weird and flamboyant people who seem to live in the theater building at your school? ever wanna know what the fuck their talking about half the time? maybe you even secretly wanna be like those people, but have no clue where to start? this will probably not help you that much to achieve those things, but you will know of a few more musicals that you maybe didnt know about before, so here is some musicals that beginners should probably either know about or get into, with one or two niche musicals that normie thespians can get under their knowledge belt

Heathers: lets start with one you all know. based on the movie with Winona Ryder, this cheery musical delves into topics like bullying, suicide, mass murder, and like our director said, “basically every single trigger under the sun”

Newsies: i’m guessing most of you have heard of this one too, its gotten pretty popular again recently. highly political and fun, based on the newsboys strike of 1899 in new york

The Phantom Of The Opera: yes you should make yourself familiar with this one. something haunts the halls of an opera house, spooky shenanigans ensue.

Fiddler On The Roof: if you want to understand a single thing about whats going on when your with your theater friends ever, you gotta get into fiddler first. a major talk on religion, tradition, and family, with a dash of a taste of pre ww2 anti-semitism. always fun. one of the the shining examples of second act mood dip.

Les Miserables: yes, we all know les mis. but do you actually? have you joined the french revolution yet?? have you stood at the barricade yet??? have you?????

The Rocky Horror Picture Show: now one of the most controversial musicals among the lgbt community. spoiler alert, op thinks the musical is a good thing. a fun queer horror romp with so so so so SO much sex.

Hairspray: if you take anything away from this list, let it be hairspray. oppression, stigma, and discrimination in 1960s america. its nowhere near as upsetting as it sounds.

The Hunchback Of Notre Dame: hey remember the disney movie that scarred you for life? go rewatch it on stage. same music, sadder ending. because victor hugo hates us more than walt disney did. once again, heavy themes of opression and religion, but this time its 1482 and bad things just keep happening.

Ride The Cyclone: if you follow me you know how i feel about this extremely fun undergound musical. six teenagers from the st caspian choir die in a horrible roller coaster accident. thats just the first three minutes. theres still no official cast recording yet, but i made a guide a bit ago on how to get into it.

Repo The Genetic Opera: what the fuck is a genetic opera, you say? filled with gore, i reply. its got blood, its got guts, its got opera, its got darkly comedic political commentary. if youre into gore and unhealthy family dynamics, then this is your cup of tea. im serious about the gore though, guys.

Chicago: yes, everyone and their grandma has heard cell block tango. but do you know the entire story of Roxie Hart? take a peek into the lives of a 1920s murderers. no, none of the murderers are men. yes, it is raunchy.

Little Shop Of Horrors: hop on over to 1960s skid row to see some delightful horrors terrorize a florist and his community. creepy, tacky, and fun.

Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street: pies and cannibalism and family issues, oh my! fun victorian horror.

Rent: if you cant walk away from this with hairspray, walk away from this with rent. a late 20th century america look into poverty, queerness, hiv/aids, drug addiction, oppression, and found family.

there are so many other wonderful musicals out there, a lot of which i still havent gotten into yet, but these are some really great starter ones in my opinion. if you’re a thespian and have some reccs, feel free to add them on. (i left out grease because i have a lot of personal problems with it. it is a classic, and if you feel so compelled feel free to watch it, but i really dont think it should still be a part of must watch musicals.)

#musicals #theater #thespian #musical theater #tax pose