#eye gore mention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragongirl642 · 2 months

Text

The Eyes are the Windows to the Soul (part 3)

Masterlist

First < > Previous < > Next

Ooh it was a close call, but on this poll, option 2 - "The real Cameron comes home, a fight breaks out, and reader chooses Not-Cameron." won.

Trigger warnings: Gore. Body horror. Mentions of domestic abuse. Death/murder. Uncanny valley.

So without further ado, here is part 3.

---------------- Start -----------------

You're humming.

A jaunty little tune you can't remember the origin of. Stood in your kitchen mixing up a bowl of bread batter.

It's been seven months since Not-Cameron arrived.

Seven calm and strangely lovely months.

Even if the occurrences have been getting more frequent. You've grown to almost expect them, and so they have become less frightening. Not to mention that the more affection you've accepted from Not-Cameron, the more distance and space the occurrences have given you.

You suspect the occurences were Not-Cameron checking on you when he "wasn't there" to see if you were trying to leave or secretly call the police or something.... Classic doppelganger horror stuff.

But you never ran to a neighbour for help running away or called the police. You acted perfectly normal and unnasuming.

Not-Cameron has been steadily relaxing around you. A little slower to stop their purrs when you move. Their dopey love struck grins are a little toothier than normal. Hugs feel a little squishier than they should. But honestly, you've found their quirks...cute.

You kissed them last week.

You've been kissed by them before obviously; accepting just a few kisses and cuddles from them so they don't realise you know they're not the real Cameron was part of your plan to stay alive after all. But it has always been Not-Cameron asking and initiating the affection.

Last week that changed.

You kissed them first. It was just a kiss on the cheek and the admission that you missed them all day. You swear they had literal hearts in their eyes, when you followed up with a chaste peck on the lips before going back to finish your own work.

You may have followed up with a few more chaste kisses and a hug or two in the following week. And who could blame you if you needed cuddles after a tiring day. Not-Cameron has soaked up any and all affection you give, and you may have found yourself chasing that little loving glint in their eye.

For three months now, you've felt different, lighter, almost on cloud nine.

It took you a while to realise what the feeling was...confidence.

You can't say the look of awe and love Not-Cameron gave you when you wore the vibrant blouse the real Cameron had said "made you look tacky" didn't feel cathartic.

Your colleagues have noticed something is different about you. You've gotten a few compliments for your work and comments on your bright mood. You've even been to a few of the company social nights and gone out to the movies with friends, some things you never had time for when Cameron was in charge of your social calendar.

It's been tranquil.

Not-Cameron has even started warning you in advance of which evenings they will disappear on.

One of which is tonight.

You pour the batter into a tin and set it inside the hot oven.

There's a pounding on the door. Insistent and demanding.

You grab a knife and creep out into the hallway, eyeing the silhouette on the other side with caution.

You've left your phone on charge in your room upstairs, so you inch towards the landline on the little table in the hallway. Eyes never leaving the swaying shadow through the porch window.

You pick up the phone, quickly dialing 999 when the shadow suddenly ducks down out of sight. It lurches back up and there's the sound of the key in the lock.

You back away quickly, ducking around the corner of the door to the kitchen. The phone vibrates as you press call.

Your boyfriend stumbles inside. His clothes are torn and he has multiple scratches on the sides of his face, neck, and arms. Crusted dark stains down his sides and shoulders, flake of bits of dried blood as he almost falls into the wall.

Out of instinct, you drop the knife and phone on the table as you rush forward to support them.

"Cameron what..." you pause. His eyes are brown. This is the real Cameron.

He's come back.

For the real Cameron to be here, it stands to reason something terrible happened to Not-Cameron.

Making another split-second decision, just like the one you made all those months ago, you decide to pretend like you never noticed the switch and just deal with Cameron's injuries before wrestling with the moral guilt of realising you're disappointed to see your old boyfriend instead of his more-loving replacement.

"What happened? We need to get you to a hospital." You turn to grab your car keys, but the sudden collapse of Cameron causes you to change plans and instead support him to walk into the living room.

He's muttering under his breath. Practically raving with no meaning; spouting over and over the words, "no change", "my face", "that thing" and "have to escape."

You set him on the sofa and fetch a glass of water for him. He drinks like a man who's been lost in a desert, uncaring of the rivulets spilling out of the cup and down his face and chest as he greedily gulps the precious liquid.

You internally cringe at the wet patch and blood stains sticking to your sofa as he leans back.

"Cameron. What happened? Should I get you to a hospital." You keep your voice soft, gently probing for information.

He seems to calm down slightly after the drink.

____ A voice calls your name from the hallway; (Not-)Cameron's voice.

"It's here," Cameron whispers, voice cracking into a squeak at the end as he grabs your wrist and pulls you into the kitchen.

Just as you both duck into the kitchen, your ears pick up the soft pat-pat of footfalls entering the living room behind you.

Keeping up the charade of ignorance, you whisper. "What is..." A sharp pain lances through your cheek and you fall silent.

Cameron slapped you. A quick whipping motion with his hand, not enough to bruise or damage you, but enough to set your cheek stinging. You're momentarily stunned by the sudden rush of familiar fear and shame that you mutely stumble along behind him as he drags you along.

His pace quickens to a run when a horrifying nails-on-chalkboard demented shriek suddenly comes from the living room. Primal fear floods your being, your heartbeat races and you scramble behind Cameron through the other door into the hallway, up the stairs and into the bathroom.

The lock clicks into place and you retreat back to kneel in the gap between the sink and the shower door. Your heart pounds in your chest, the fear that shriek instilled in you temporarily narrows your vision to a pinprick. You focus on your breath, clasping your hands in front of you and squeezing them together hard.

"Where are you?" You hear the muffled voice of Not-Cameron call from downstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

Cameron tucks himself down to kneel beside you and he hisses. "Stay fucking quiet."

You don't answer or even look at him. Focusing on calming yourself quickly so you can figure out how you are going to survive this confusing situation.

"Love, please! Come out!" There's a note of panic in Not-Cameron's voice, a rising shrill sound that sets off an uncomfortable vibration in your teeth and yet also a deep base vibration you can feel in your chest. "Where are you? I'm sorry. I can explain." Their voice grows more distorted as a shadow creeps past the door.

Even through your fear, the sound of their panic tugs at your heartstrings. Your happiest memories from the past few months suddenly flash in your mind's eye.

You come to a decision.

The calls of Not-Cameron fade, then come back, then fade again. From the distance of the calls, they've probably checked your bedroom and the office, they'll either check the guest room or the bathroom next.

Slowly under the pretext of getting more comfortable, you shift to a crouch and brace one foot back ready to run.

Cameron looks at you with a stern glare his black-eye fails to hide. Covering for your motion, you immediately fawn, twisting to grab the long-handled brush from the shower and making a show of bracing to fight.

He nods at you and turns to grab the toilet plunger from behind him. Once he turns, quite stiffly and slow due to his injuries, you move. Springing forward and sliding the lock before he can turn back and slipping through the door just as he lurches to his feet.

The hallway is dark and empty, swallowing your call of "I'm here!" like the void of space.

You falter at the unnatural silence and suddenly pain blooms behind your eyes as your head snaps back against the wall. Bruising pain jumps from your arms to you chest to your head.

Cameron's hands are on your throat.

"You." Speckles of saliva splatter your face as he hisses at you. "Fucking shh."

It's getting harder to breath. His hands are too tight, cutting off your precious oxygen.

You lash out with the long-handled brush, it almost collides with his head but he blocks it ripping it from your grasp before turning to choke you again with a blank hateful look. But the distraction helped to lower the pressure on your throat.

It takes all your strength to utter the word: "help."

Cameron is ripped from your vision in a blur of grey and red. You collapse as the pressure around your neck disappears, gasping for air.

It's dark, but in the light coming through the window at the end of the hall from the street lamps outside, you can make out the details of the thrashing figures only four feet away from you.

Cameron is on the ground, swears and angry screams stream from his mouth as his hands scratch and swing at the creature pinning him to the ground. He attempts to pry off the huge clawed hands holding him down by his shoulders and tries to punch the creature in its ribs, but he can't get enough force behind his fists.

The creature doesn't flinch, just releases a low growl as it hunches over Cameron.

It is humanoid, but its arms and legs are just too long, and the bones of its spine jut out along its back. It is wearing clothes; you recognise the flannel cardigan and jeans combo Not-Cameron was wearing when he left the house earlier. From what you can see of its neck and the ends of the limbs poking out from its sleeves and trousers, its skin is silvery-grey, but it's thin and almost looks like clingfilm, the shining red of its muscles is visible as they stretch and contract beneath the translucent skin. It's hair is pitch black, standing on end and shifting, reminiscent of a wind ruffling a field of corn.

Suddenly, in a motion so quick it appears to be a blur, the creature's head snaps down towards your former boyfriend.

Cameron's screams are cut off by a squelch followed by a wet gurgling that slowly goes quiet with a crunch.

Just as quickly as it started, it's over. The creature draws it's head back up before flicking it, flinging something heavy down the hall. You can just see the edges of the bloody mess that is all that remains of Cameron's neck past it's claws.

All falls still.

Deafening silence consumes your fear.

The creature begins to shake.

You can only watch in horror as it appears to distort and melt and crack and shrink.

Protruding bones retract back into its back, claws shrink, and limbs recede into its sleeves. A pearlescent liquid seems to ooze out from the muscles beneath the skin, swirling and filling the space beneath, hiding the muscles from view before changing colour. The sound of cracking bones and wet squishing sets off an uncomfortable feeling in your teeth.

Before it finishes transforming, it turns to look back at you.

You can't help but let out a gasp.

Glowing silvery-blue irises in blacked-out eyes stare at you from above a stretched-out grin full of sharp teeth. A string of bloody drool hangs from their chin.

Half-of it's face appears almost manequin-like, but from the other half the recognisable face of Not-Cameron stares.

Their skin swirls and distorts, the cloudy ooze beneath their skin floods the right side of their face first, before curling over to the left and solidifying. A ripple runs through their skin as it twists and distorts, growing to mirror the features on the other side to form the recognisable face of Cameron. With a series of spine-tingling cracks, their sharp teeth begin to snap into their gums and out of sight, leaving a set of pearly rounded normal teeth behind.

All goes still and, if not for the gash on their forehead leaking red and the blood drenching their clothes, Not-Cameron looks exactly as they did when they left you earlier today.

Except for their eyes. Glowing silver and devouring black, staring at you with an unreadable emotion.

You don't move. While your brain tries to process what you're seeing, fear and a tinge of confusion keep you rooted to the spot.

Not-Cameron stares.

-----------------End---------------

First < > Previous < > Next

Extra note: There is one more part and then it's over. Ooh, I can't wait (and I'm the one having to write it 🤣).

#shapeshifter x reader #mimic x reader #doppelganger x reader #doppelganger #mimic #shapeshifter #monster x reader #monster x you #the eyes are the windows to the soul #gore #death #uncanny valley #mention of domestic abuse #scary #creepy #body horror

97 notes · View notes

one-time-i-dreamt · 6 months

Text

I was at my grandparents' house, presumably for (Shabbat dinner) and my eyes fell out and when I tried to put them back in, they just fell out again and started to crumble.

#dream #tw eyeless #tw eye gore #tw gore #grandparents #house #Shabbat #dinner #food #body horror tw #eyes #eyes mention #eyes tw

212 notes · View notes

luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months

Text

FOR A BEAT OF HEART, THE BREATH IS SHOT. AND WITHIN A BREATH, THE HEART IS CAUGHT. THE PIPES ARE BURSTING, UNDER GREAT STRESS, BOLTS TORN ASUNDER, MAKING A MESS. A FINAL COUGH, A FINAL RETCH, A GOREY SLOUGH, CLAIMED BY WRETCH.

#cw gore #jrwi riptide #jrwi riptide spoilers #chip jrwi #jrwi fanart #jrwi show #I LLOOOVE POETRYYY I LOVE MAKING WORDS RHYME IN STRANGE WAYS AND DESCRIBING VISCERA AND VIOLENCE OR WAHTEVER. YKNOW WHAT ELSE I LOVE #CHHHIIIIIIIBBOOOOO MY BEAUTIFUL MAAANN WWHAT. WHAT HAPPENED. OH MY GOD. IVE BEEN SAYING FOREVER. I NEEED CHIP TO GET SCARIER.#HE HAS THE POTENTIAL! I KNOW HE DOES! HAUNTED BOY WITH THE HAUNTED EYES WHAT TRAUMAS HAVE YOU SEEN? AND WERE THEY YOUR FAULT? THINK ABOUT I #EVERY FAMILY HAS CRUMBLED AROUND HIM. HIS BIRTH FAMILY CRUMBLED BEFORE HE KNEW IT. HIS SECOND FAMILY DROWNED. THIRD BURNED TO THE GROUND #AND SHALL THIS NEXT FAMILY JOIN THEM? CHIIIIP YOU UNFORTUNATE BOY YOU HAVE WITNESSED SO MUCH CALAMITY #YOU ARE CALAMITY BOYYY AHAHAHAHA DONT YOU SEEE!! ZOMBIFIED AND DEAD. TRUELY MORE HAUNTED THAN EVER BEFORE. THIS WILL BE FUN #THE FIRE HURTS WHEN IT BURNS TOO LONG. BUT NOW YOUR NERVES ARE DEAD AND YOUR MIND IS FREE. BURN THIS CORPSE AS YOU WISH TO GET WHAT YOU WAN #CHIP IS NOT THE FIRE HE IS THE MATCH. I LOVE THAT IDEA SO MUCH IM SO PROUD OF IT. OHHH AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CORRUPTION #bizly mentioned that chip wants to be a good captain. in his most corrupted state however. he would be the BEST captain..#thAT DOESNT MEAn hes gonna just suddenly be all controlling. the BEST captain keeps his crew safe. keeps them together. keeps them alive.#and chip is doing just that! he doesnt need to stop being a good captain just bc of the corruption! he just needs to be the BEST CAPTAIN #AND THATS SUBJECTIVE BABY!! im so excited to see where chips zombie arc goes. neeeed him to get scarier and just a little more fucked up.#neEED HIM TO PERFORM ABHORANT ACTIONS THAT HAVE JAY N GILL GOING ' dude woah what the fuck...'#RIGHT I SHOULD TALK ABT MY ART TOO. this one took TOO LONGGGstarted out witha sketch how did it end up like this...#the heart and the blood KILLED ME. LOOK AT MY RENDERING LIKE HWAAATT #better not see any more mistakes after i post this.... i cant fight withit anymore....STILL RLY PROUD THO..#I WAnted to make it visually LOOK like the grossest vomiting sound possible #i want it to make your throat feel uncomfortable. am i achieving that? i hope i am. thats tubes dude!!! like cmahn!

219 notes · View notes

pikbro · 3 months

Text

doppelganger

#revisiting akari wraith finally #i think i mentioned a second part to my original post but i dont remember if i said it had louie in it. so surprise it has louie in it #im normal #what would u do if u saw urself with scary glowing eyes killign things at night. id pee a little #tw for blood and gore i think #i suck at drawing those tho so we should be fine #maybe ill do a proper lore dump if anyones interested #credit for the wraith au idea goes to splitsterart lol #anyways tag attack #pikmin #pikmin 4 #pikmin louie #louie pikmin #☆ my art #☆ my ocs #☆ akari wraith au

121 notes · View notes

mistermedic · 1 month

Text

eye

+ some close ups :)

This looked WAY better in my head

#Tf2 #demoman tf2 #tf2 demoman #red demoman #tf2 fanart #artwork #art #my art #digital art #style test #art style #spoopy #tw eye contact #Horror #Tf2 horror #tw gore mention #:)#I’m great at tags #I guess

31 notes · View notes

snowe-zolynn-rogers · 15 days

Text

Eclipse: Earlier today, I was arguing with Jigsaw and in the middle of it, he took out his eyes and said, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

#sun and moon show #sams #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf eclipse #fnaf jigsaw eclipse #incorrect sun and moon show quotes #incorrect sams quotes #incorrect fnaf quotes #incorrect quotes #source: tumblr #aka my missing midnight post #from january 18th #tw gore mention #tw eye trauma mention

23 notes · View notes

ladystarksneedle · 7 months

Text

Valyrian steel cuts clean

He’s read about the blades of his ancestors more times than he can count, relishing in their tales of conquest and glory. They are household tales recited time and again by his ailing father and half sister before him. The conqueror and his sisters serving as ideals, for each of them to mould themselves as. Throughout his life he's wished to emulate them, to make his family proud. To be their sword, their shield and their strength, protecting them with valor and leading by example even when he’s torn down, laughed at and mocked for being unwhole.

Valyrian steel cuts clean

He wishes it were Valyrian steel as the old maester heaves and grunts more than him, stitching the remnants of his pride. A clean blade is what he wished for the night he’s been cut open for all to see. The night his greatest accomplishment is lost to accusations and apathy, bonds broken irreparably leaving jagged edges in their wake.

Valyrian steel cuts clean

The wounds on his body are a testament to his grit. His face is as scarred as what remains within him, yet he pushes forth. He will not disappoint. He will not yield.

Valyrian steel cuts clean

The lifeless head of a future lord lies a few feet away, as he stares at the blade that brought about his demise. The hands of the enemy are clean and his blade bloody, a swift slice left for all to see. He knows somewhere his ancestors would be proud.

Valyrian steel cuts clean

He wishes once, for his thoughts to be consumed by something other than violence, something other than his thirst for vengeance which has led to the death of an innocent. He can hear the screams and still sees his severed body, wishing and lamenting for things to be different. For a different outcome, a different target, a different blade.

Valyrian steel cuts clean

He thinks of the crown above his brow, about the culmination of all that he’s ever wanted, not bringing about the satisfaction he’d hoped for. Valyrian steel doesn’t cut him , neither does it soothe the ache of duty that burns within.

Valyrian steel cuts clean

Nothing prepares him for the rush he feels slicing through flesh like butter, their screams symphony to his ears. He’s a conqueror wielding his blade, cutting down his enemy, carving his destiny. This is what he’s always been meant for. His ancestors would be proud.

Valyrian steel bleeds.

#dark aemond targaryen #angst as usual #mentions of gore blood death #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen #hotdedit #hotd aemond #the greens as art #the greens #zae's fics #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond imagine #aemond fics

58 notes · View notes

everye · 1 year

Text

tw blood, gore

My Heaven

sh1 locations usually don't get much recognition so i feel like adding some explanatory notes on it (just in case)

the place is the secret chamber in Green Lion Antiques where distracted from prayer alessa is having a tender moment gazing at the point where God's painting is supposed to be

(GOD- IM TRULY BEWITCHED BY THIS GAME THE WAY IT NEVER THROWS STRAIGHT FACTS IN UR FACE AND WISELY KEEPS ATMOSPHERE OF UNDERSTATEMENT TILL THE VERY END SO FKING CHARMING–)

whatever ceremonial stuff it is, it had started to burn before one of harry's passing out

and due to perspective in my drawing alessa stands directly on it ..

i'd like to sum up the post w little art comparison bc i also pursued the goal to redraw one of my old drawings

the first one is pretty rough for sure still luv both of them tho

june 2021 august 2022

seems like i had come to better understanding of what im trying to achieve in terms of composition COLORS and whatnot

ьььь

#silent hill #alessa gillespie #dahlia gillespie #unnamed members of the Order. dahlia's gang in short #incubator #incubus #since it's his actual birth scene #damn haven't posted anything serious in a while .. time during summer when i was deciding on ideas for zine almost feels like a past life #made the choice for a reason y'all already know how Normal i am abt sh1 <33 #although people tend to associate it exclusively w harry or/and lisa which IS fine still sad alessa rarely gets any credit............#prolly mentioned it before idk but at the very core it's HER game #meanwhile harry is just a witness who brings us into the loop of the story #(not mocking anyone !! tho in that case harry is basically player's eyes and ears)#drawing special attention to My Heaven soundtrack game's ost is hella gud in general but this one f u c k s #oh the moment when i just realized those weird noises are actually roar of alessa's intense s c r e a m s on horribly twisted frequencies #and the God himself is grotesque embodiment of her mental and physical suffering #not to be dramatic but back then i came to sudden realization that i'll never be the same.............#tw blood #tw gore #my art

278 notes · View notes

hcdragonwrites · 9 months

Text

A Nightmare (a @journey-to-the-au drabble)

Another one! I split this one into two- so that way the people who enjoy fluff and are sensitive to the triggers can pick one or the others. Warning: this is about the Six Eared Macaque and what happens in the Betrothal AU

Trigger warning: Gore, Violence, Cannibalism and Descriptions of the Like. Allusions of SA (nothing happens but if this is a trigger don’t read!)

Did Heaven know of nightmares?

Earth Reaching Willow couldn’t answer that. In all her endless days within the Polestar Palace, among the Orchards of Immortal Peaches, and across the wide clouded bridges and celestial marvels, she had never known anything but tranquility and Peace.

Willow felt the other Monkeys of the troop swirling about her. Mothers bared fangs in fierce smiles while fathers and brothers teetered on grabbing weapons or jumping into the fray. However the being before them, the being that had been living among them, wore a familiar face, spoke in a voice that was warm in tenor.

It was a trusted person, a king of kindness, that had sat before them with grisly gore smeared over his teeth.

This wasn’t Wukong.

The Monkey King slouched, relaxed on the floor of Water- Curtain Cave. The gray stone beneath was dark with the scattered remnants of …

Willow couldn’t. She couldn’t - who had it been? Who had they been ? Willow had spent decades among the troop of Flower Fruit Mountain, years watching her new family grow and flourish. She had welcomed new members, helping mothers tend and care in turn for the babies and teach. She had brought flower petals to scatter upon the bodies of old and fallen friends and family, returning their vessels to the earth and praying for their next reincarnation. Death was not impossible for the Monkeys of the mountain even if age was not a factor now.

Her stomach curled at the scattered red and pink and purple flecks against the gray stone.

Willow had tended and cared for her family. Liu, Rin Rin, Ma, Ba, Beng, Mama Courage, Mama Wisdom, Chestnut- and so many more. She had cared for them because they loved her and she loved them.

Willow cared for them in all the years Wukong had been away. She, wife and friend to king of Flower Fruit Mountain, understood the importance of her position.

This creature that had once been alive was now twitching as it’s body bled out.

Another rending, echoed in the cave. The teeth of this Wukong hooked into the rib cage of the fallen little monkey beneath his foot. The red flesh pulled free of the white bone with a shlap sound. This mimicry of Wukong slurped the flesh and smacked his lips as if in ecstasy.

“Exquisite taste as always.” The voice was so familiar in its sound. Wrong wrong, Willows mind warned, her stomach becoming stone. This isn’t him!

The corpse of the monkey lay near the entrance of the cavern, splayed out in the pose of a running animal having been taken down by a lion. Upon that corpse, casual foot set against its shoulders, was the monarch of the mountain.

Mama Courage was bristled, fangs flashing and eyes full of fury. For all the rage behind him, the creature that wore the skin of their friend, was unperturbed. Instead he dug his claws into the skin and pulled. The sound set her teeth on edge and her stomach to flipping. Something pink and soft was between his claws- and then down his gullet.

The mothers and the distant warriors around the cave watched in horror. Most of the troop was outside, enjoying the everlasting summer of the mountain. Willow wished she had been just a bit faster, just a bit sooner and she could have been among them.

Instead she was stuck inside a living nightmare.

The Wukong turned his head, eyes alighting on one little of the troop adolescents who came too close. Faster than any of them could react, the Wukong had seized the youngster by his tail and dragged him over. The mothers started forward but froze at the pained screams of the little monkey.

“Curious one are you not?” The Wukong grinned, all threat within that smile. He sat the youngster beside him, petting his fur and pulling it close. “Come! Take a bite! This foolish subject shouldn’t have brushed me in his haste to get by. Now he will serve me in the only remaining way he can~”

“Eat! Eat!” With his free paw he gestured to the slaughtered monkey at his feet. The individual had had his throat cut, the blood pooling beneath his dun fur. The great wound on his side had been inflicted while they had been alive, it had happened right before Willows eyes.

Willow didn’t remember what the conversation had been about before. She had been walking out of one of the stone huts, signing to Wisdom beside her. It was the season for apple picking and they were both in a deep conversation about what foods to make with the apples they harvested.

‘Pies?’ Wisdom had puzzled.

‘And jams’ Willow signed back. ‘Tarts and sauces.’

‘You want to make these?’ Wisdom signed as they turned past a curve in the cave.

‘I want to teach others how to cook them’ Willow explained. She had been baking for years now, testing and trying new creations. With so many different types of fruit orchards and with an ever abundance of rotating bloomings and ripenings, Willow couldn’t resist. Apple pies, peach cobblers, plum puddings, candied pears, and strawberry tarts. So many things Willow could make- so many treats she could spoil her family with.

When Earth Reaching Willow had started making her first treats, the smell had begun to attract some of the denizens of the mountain. Little round faces poked through the kitchen windows, eyes wide and noses inhaling. Willow had passed each little one a bit of whatever she had been making- breads full of almonds, ripe watermelons dipped into sugar, orange juice freshly pressed for the porridge she would make- and they had scurried away, excited.

It had only taken three days for the rest of the mountain to be waiting outside her door, eyes eager and arms full of the fruits they wanted made into treats.

‘Teaching will be difficult.’ Courage signed.

‘How so? I like to teach and I think most will have the patience to learn.” Willow countered gently. Then she suddenly had a thought and amended, ‘Maybe not Ba though. I think he will be the one that will possibly try to sabotage me for a prank or steal whatever I make’

Courage laughed her silent laugh. Her eyes twinkled with mirth. ‘If he switches your fruits I will make sure he gets a thorough fruit thrashing. But no- I have no concern of your ability. Only about how much space we may have in the kitchen.’

It was Willows turn to laugh.

The morning had been going so well.

And then.

The two rounded the last curve of the tunnel, coming up to the roaring waterfall that blocked the main entrance to Water Curtain Cave. It’s soft, silver light soothing to see. It was like the mountains voice, forever roaring by them all. Courage paused, grabbing at Willows sleeve.

Willow looked up.

At the great wide flat stone before the waterfall, stood Wukong. A chill crept up Willows spine.

The Wukongs eyes alighted on the two and he smiled broadly, waving.

“Mother! Willow!” He called in friendly tones. “My beautiful wife is just the person I wanted to see !”

Willow felt that chill touch her veins.

He skipped closer eyes dancing brightly. But something was off. There was a shine to his eyes that looked feverish.

Wukong grasped the limp hand of Willows and kissed it. The press of that mouth over her skin felt hungrier, the eyes of his looking upward into her own with … with an expression of love meant for …

For the bedroom.

Willow took her hand from his palm, plastering a small smile onto her face. A wolf was before her. Wearing sheep’s clothing. Willow knew a wolf when she saw one however.

Wukong and her may be husband and wife but he never hinted or tried at more romantic inclinations when they were away from the cloudy courts of Heaven.

As she pulled the hands from his there was another flash, some sort of color burning in his eyes. What was that?

“Hello Wukong.”

“My Love~” His voice was syrupy sweet. “I have missed your company these few nights. Will you indulge me? I have the perfect place picked out! There’s a pond just south of here- and when the moon is out and the water is still, it turns silver and it’s beautiful.”

“It reminds me of your beauty.”

“I would love to,” Willow felt the repulsion rise. She had to fight the urge to pull back. Courtly edicate. She had dissuaded similar trysts and attempts from far more skilled men than this Wukong. But none of them looked like her best friend. “However I’ve promised to bake an apple pie and show your Mother how to make one.”

Courage nodded, signing ‘We must be off, son. The light will soon be behind the mountain and it will be too dark to see.’

Courage grasped her hand, tugging her away.

Wukongs face fell. Another flash in those eyes.

What happened next was all too quick, all too brutal.

Wukong- the wolf in Wukongs skin- moved to catch her hand-

And Willow had retreated, barely escaping his grasping hand.

One moment, Wukong had been trying to grab her attention. Courage had caught her hand, tugging her. Willow had bowed and given her excuses, her apologies. She retreated in relief. And she saw the eyes, finally, change to an ice blue.

The next moment, as one of the many monkeys walked by -was his name Radish or Cloud?- Wukongs eyes flashed.

Wrong-they are blue with red chips within them. Why are they blue ?

It was like the striking of lightning. One minute Wukong had stood, gaze open and full of such a light as to give a dragon nightmares, and the next the world was turned end over end. The monkey had at one moment been brushing past the king and the next he had been pinned to the stone floor. The savage strike had split the side of the little monkey's flank, opening up fur and skin and flesh. Exposing the inner workings of the poor creature in a spray of red so dark as to be black. The Wukong with those painfully bright blue eyes had cleaved the bone of the rib cage as easily as a knife slicing through butter.

The monkey gasped, eyes blinking in confusion. The pain hadn’t registered yet. Only shock. Wukong tugged a bit of pink intestine out of the still writhing monkey and ripped it to shreds.

Blood.

Screaming.

Willow felt her stomach heave.

“I have your attention now ?” Wukong had said.

Not Wukong.

This creature, whoever and whatever it was, was not Sun Wukong.

It couldn’t be.

This Wukong shook the adolescent monkey it had hostage again, yanking at the corpse before him. The noise of the screams had brought the few monkeys still in the caves running, some dragging weapons. Upon seeing however, that the threat was no tiger or jackal or leopard but their own king tearing away at one of his own, had driven all the fight from them. It had left only horror.

The poor monkey face was contorted in a frozen scream. Its eyes were staring sightless. Vacant and grayed over. Gone.

“Come have a taste. I only share the best of meals with the ones I love.” The wrong Wukong spoke, tugging the poor creature forward. He held the flesh closer, eyes blazing blue. The tiny monkey squirmed in his grasp, eyes wild.

“Stop!”

The Wukong froze. The world froze as Willow called out. Her heart raced. Only her heart and the roar of the waterfall dared to make a sound.

She saw the tiny monkey squirming and clawing at the hand that was still about its scruff, whimpering. His eyes, that unusual shade of blue, slanted her way. They burned coldly, wildly, full of one such emotion that Willow couldn’t mistake.

Hunger.

“Oh?”

The Wukong set the monkey back down. He didn’t let go of the poor thing. His eyes were only for her, his attention peaked. Earth Reaching Willow, Eldest princess of the Jade Emperor, threw herself into that woman she had been before her monkey, before Wukong had come into Heaven and offered her the world. She was an actress.

As still as a pond with no ripples. He may be full of a burning ice but I must be colder- I must be that calm within the eye of a hurricane.

Willow pressed her forehead to the floor, bowing. She felt the hands of Courage tugging at her. She kept her head flat to the floor.

I must play this game. Protect my family-

Even from the one who I looks like my friend. For my friend. Wherever he is—

“Has my Wife finally decided to give me attention?” Willow heard the heavy and terrible sound of bone snapping and muscles rending. She didn’t look up. “It has been so long, my love. You’ve left your king….” A harsh crunch of bones, of noise that is the sound of teeth digging into something soft. Snapping it like a twig. “….hungry.”

“Please, let the little one go.” Willow pleaded. She felt the brush of Mamma Courage along her side, Wisdom along the other.

“Lift your head.”

Dread.

She did as she was told, composing her face to serenity. The serenity cannot withstand the horror before her. It cracked.

This Wukongs face is smiling cynically, eyes glacier blue and glowing. In his free hand, the dismembered paw of the poor deceased monkey, cut clean from mid forearm down. The bone had been cracked, the marrow dripping.

“What will you do my Willow?” He asked, shaking the still struggling babe. One of the mother monkeys barked in rage, taking a half step forward. Another stopped her. Willow felt like a mouse caught between a wolf's paws.

“Your husband is very upset at you for ignoring his … advances.”

Nothing. I won’t do anything. I will turn into the smallest speck of sand and let the wind blow me away.

Willow let her fear spin just for a moment. Then she grasped it in her mind and pressed it behind that cold veneer of courtly teachings. She had acted much of her life. She had acted to fool her father, her advisors, the very suitors that saw her as a chess piece to improve their standing within the Polestar Palace Court.

And I will act now- I will hold my horror to best give everyone a chance— a chance to get away. To prevent more deaths.

“I have neglected you husband.” The words smoothly emptied themselves from Willows lips, even as she wanted to snatch them back. Be brave. “It was not my intent to do so. I have been busy helping our family. Forgive me.”

I don't want forgiveness from you. You aren’t my Wukong. He wouldn’t demand attention from me. He wouldn’t ask me for this.

“I’ll forgive you. I’ll be pacified by you.” The imposter sounds almost relieved, as if her words had soothed a burn upon his skin. He shakes the poor baby again, eliciting a squeak and an angry chorus from the other mothers here. Willow is still surprised it is just them in Water Curtain Cave.

A miniature horror show just for them.

“I will even let this little one go, since I am such a benevolent king. No one should say that I, Sun Wukong, didn’t listen to my beloved wife.” He smiled again, staring straight into her soul. “But I want a Kiss.”

“A kiss?”

The Wukong nodded, eyes flickering. A ripple of black and then gone again. “One single kiss. To reaffirm our union. Maybe more … later.”

The ‘later’ sent chills down her spine. But Willow nodded.

“Good! An obedient wife makes a happy life!” He laughed with Wukongs voice, but none of the joy of her Wukong was reflected there. It was twisted, spun into something bent and hideous. A mimicry of joy. A sound to match the horror.

Tears streamed down her face, the only break in the smooth surface of her cool demeanor. Willow leaned forward, about to stand.

“Oh but I am not prepared.” He said. She froze. Something malicious crawled over his face. The imitation Wukong- I refuse to believe this is Wukong- took up the bloody wrist and pressed the still bloody end across his face. Willow felt her horror rise, the gorge in her throat threaten to upheave. He smeared the bloody stump across his teeth, over his lips, across his chin. Like a monsterous paintbrush, this Wukong painted his lips in the blood.

Finally the Wukong drops his captive, the little monkey scurrying up to the group seated before their King. It’s mother scooped them up, pressing them to the soft underside and trying to hide his face from the nightmare. Willow couldn’t look away. Her courtly armor, the thing she had pulled up to cover herself in, shattered into a million pieces as those blue burning eyes fluttered and locked onto her lips.

“What’s the matter darling?” The Wukong holds the arm in one hand, the free one pressed to his face, almost as if he were resting it there. The thing before her must read Willow's repulsion. His smile turns softly, a predator's smile curving away from those gore filled teeth. “Don’t you want to Kiss me?”

#ALRIGHT ITS DONE #part one of this very chilling scene #for journey to the au #sun wukong #jttw au #Betrothal Au #hcwrites #writing stuff #jttw tag #tw gore mention #tw blood #yeah this one’s a bit brutal #the next part is gonna be much softer - I have it written already but Tumblr just takes away all the little formatting I do and FIGHTS ME #six eared macaque #he’s an absolute monster in this #poor Willow I’m so sorry #also I love momma courage so much #I wanted to give her a highlight in this just because she fit so well with the setting #Willow is gonna spoil all da baby monkeys on the mountain with treats she’s learning and can bake and she’s joking with Courage when BAM #Blue spooky eyes bastard pops up.#I Wrote Willow hopefully well.#I Kinda have her some of my own ace perspectives on this #I DONT know how else to tag this lol #no music I listened to this time - listened to an audio book while writing for work.#fluff will come soon I promise #I just have to fight Tumblr #too many tags WOOPS #hcfanfics

71 notes · View notes

lethbrigadier · 1 month

Text

PEOPLE WHO HAVE SURVIVED RITUALS

#THERE'S SOMETHING IMPORTANT ABOUT PEOPLE WHO HAVE SURVIVED RITUALS #I JUST KNOW IT #the magnus protocol #tmagp #magp 10 #tmagp spoilers #if 'Introducing Beth Eyre as [Error]'#is supposed to be lucia wright from the flesh ritual episode #and we already have celia and a georgie mention #that doesn't explain gertrude and gerry but they could be the red herring #but then who's the canary?#listen ok listen #jonah?#we know the web box can store entities #and jonah body hops by switching eyes #redcanary guy found an empty box and there was implied eye gore/transformation #personally i don't think this theory is anything cause i feel like #the whole point of this podcast is that it's NEW #new horror new characters and all that #i guess it really depends on who /if any/ is from the tma universe #ANYWAY WHO WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THE MUSIC IN THIS EPISODE DURING THE STATEMENT #GENUINELY CREEPED ME OUT MORE THAN ANY MAGNUS EPISODE EVER HAS

17 notes · View notes

landfilloftrash · 11 months

Photo

*incomprehensible* —hohohoho! Silly meee~ Let me fix this up and leave you be~ See you soon, mon capitaine~

147 notes · View notes

nooks-cranny-mogai · 2 months

Text

Getting very tempted to make a list of pro-palestine blogs that think it's totally not horrifically disrespectful to post gore of the attack on Palestine. They legitimately do not care that it strips a person of their identity in life(often because they are unrecognizable), it indignifies them by using their corpse as shock value and it violates even basic respect of the dead to post their body without consent of the family or the individual. I may be only an arm chair psychologist and trying to learn how to properly handle grief but I'm sure your really fucking helping(/sar) the family when you post their loved ones corpse for all the Internet to fucking see and comment on.

Like imagen losing your kid in a horrific bombing and some white liberal half way across the world posts their dead body for everyone to see without remotely asking her family and they just say "omg my heart is with Palestine 😢 this poor little girl got her head torn off. I cry every night due to this massacre." And you just have to sit there and watch the comments fill with white tears and a few fuckers saying your daughter deserved it.

NGL I'd probably go fucking scorched earth if that happened to me and these fucking blogs do it daily then get mad at you when you point out:

it's disrespectful,

(" the world needs to see this mutilated corpse to understand how bad it is!!" they say as if the death toll isn't right fucking there and these bodies don't have a right to dignity in death. Palestinians are not only corpses in the minds of the fucking iof but also apparent you. They are people and that applies to their fucking corpses. No one wants to be known and remembered by a picture taken of them when they died in a violent, torturous and degrading death. Imagine if that was you, or your sibling or your mom or grandparent or uncle or shit, even your dog. You'd be pissed and upset and dehumanized. Palestinians already have their grief forced into the spotlight by this genocide, do not make them share these horrible moments with the world.)

it doesn't do shit for the movement,

(" it shows the Zionists and their sympathizers what their beliefs result in!" They say as if the Zionists don't want this and care. News flash they don't and the only people seeing this is your allies who are telling you it's disrespectful. Zionists do not care about the dead and the state of their bodies. They do not care about this massacre. They are racist fucks who want this. You arnt changing minds.)

Don't tag it,

("if I tag it people won't look at it! Don't look away!" Have you considered gore posting is exclusively used to shock people and some people don't need shocked. Not wanting to see a fucking corpse on Tumblr isn't "looking away from the conflict.". Looking away from the conflict is ignoring it, not talking about it, not sharing info. I don't need to see the dead body of a trans person to know trans people are dieing.)

It violates so many tos it isn't even funny.

(" Tumblr is silencing us! Why are you siding with Tumblr???" Though Tumblr is probably trying to censor this movement like most other places, your not getting reported or struck down because your posting about Palestine. It's because your posting litteral fucking gore. If this was allowed, idk how to tell you Tumblr would become a hellscape full of the most depraved shit. You do not get a special birthday boy pass to post gore because it's for a good cause. It's still fucking gore, it's fundamentally disrespectful and it's against tos for that reason. It's a good reason and if I have to play by tumblrs rules to get your disrespectful shit taken down, so be it.)

I'm not very strong opinioned about how people talk about certain social issues. There's a right way and a wrong way and some ways that ride the line. Gore posting is the wrong way, cut and dry. It invalidates your message and shows a lack of decorum for the dead. It's the basic principles.

Now I'm gonna talk directly to the people who posted gore from Palestine or any other horrific conflict world wide whose still not happy that I'm criticizing you. I'm gonna be nice here and I mean that:

I know it hurts. I know it's scary. I know thinking about it makes you angry and pisses you off and depresses you and makes you cry and have nightmares. I know that hurt and fear and anger at knowing something horrible is happening and there isn't much you can do about it. Posting dead bodies won't bring them back to life. Posting child corpses won't help your message get across. I know you desensitized to the violence but that's not the issue of your peers who tell you it's fucked up your posting dead bodies from a genocide. It's yours and it shows your basic respect is lost to your fear and you need to take a breather for a day and step off.

Everyone is exhausted. Everyone is scared and angry. You won't help us by upsetting other members of our movement with unnessesary and fundamentally disrespectful images of corpses. We know how bad it is, pictures just make people vomit and resent you. They don't change minds, they don't "show the reality" they don't even respect the living family of the dead. They do nothing. They are pointless. I know your tired of being gaslit and told this isn't happening and maybe you think those pictures prove it. They don't. The people who still think this isn't real and as bad as it is are going to look at that corpse and call it a lie, a prop. And now you've not only disrespected their body by posting it publicly for any ol creep and loved one of the dead to see, you've now made them a spectacle. A thing for them to point and laugh at and pick out "details that clearly show it's fake".

It helps nothing. It doesn't prove anything to those who don't believe it and it dosent show the truth of this genocide. All it shows is a dead person at the time their life was ended in a horrible and painful way and you have to sit with their body and the fact you've lost yourself so much in this you arnt shocked or surprised and that's concerning. You have to live with the fact people are going to spread their body far and wide across the Internet for any shock posters and necrophiles to disrespect. You put their body in that position when you could of stopped it, reported it and let them be known by a smiling picture in life of their family cropped from pictures the family holds dear. Now they are known as someone's favorite picture for numerous horrible and disrespectful reasons and you put them there. That's pretty shitty of you. Maybe get some therapy. Some help. Take a week break and take care of yourself.

And next time, when a mutual of yours thinks gore helps the movement, remind them the Internet is forever and although it's important we never forget this tragedy and we do everything we possibly can to stop it, this won't help anyone. Gore never does. Self harm for a righteous good never does. The same way you can't be held responsible for the things you think aka thought crime, the same you can't do good by thinking violent thoughts about iof soldiers or praying for Palestine. Hurting yourself won't help the movement and gore just hurts your friends. Think long and hard before you post that child's body and know to thousands, that's the only way they will ever see or know her, by her dead body. She deserves better. Her family deserves better. You know better. Do better.

19 notes · View notes