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nomsfaultau · 1 month

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Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Tw graphic violence

When he hears Tommy’s distressed shriek, Philza launches into the air immediately, flying so fast the world blurs below. He finds his chick pinned beneath an assailant, and plunges toward them, slamming into the man so fast he’s flung away from Tommy, slamming into the ground hard enough that he is stunned. By the clippings of Tommy’s primary feathers tucked behind his mask, the attacker claims to be Tommy’s guardian. Philza’s blood boils as he realizes this was the abuser Tommy spoke of. Tommy is painfully motionless from where he’s ensnared in a net like an animal, and his fury builds, attacking faster and faster. The abuser is caught off guard only at first, and begins to fend Philza off.

But then Tommy makes a noise. And while he should be relieved Tommy is alive, Philza’s blood turns to ice. It’s not a pained sound, the kind he’d expect for the hatchling’s injuries. It’s not a scared chirp, either, the kind half broken by a sob like he’d heard earlier. No, it’s a soft, tranquil coo, trance-like, the kind used during wing grooming to indicate bliss.

And Philza sees red.

He rips into the abuser with his bare claws, shredding through soft skin and sturdy armor alike. The mask shatters as he gorges through the abuser’s face, blinded with fury long past the end of his agonized screams, past the last of his thrashing struggles, past the death of the monster that hurt his child.

Eventually, the threat to his chick registers as dealt with. Philza peels himself off the scraps of the abuser’s mutilated corpse. He finds Tommy still softly cooing, placid inside the net he’s tangled in. There’s a dazed look in his eyes, incapable of comprehending the horrific situation he’s in. The most response Philza gets is blissful little chirps. He’s in preening position, or would be if the net didn’t constrain his other wing. Technically it’s easier to cut Tommy out if he’s not thrashing, but his docile acceptance of his ensnarement is sickening.

Once free, all Tommy does is snuggle even though he’s very clearly bleeding to death. When Philza tries to heal him instead of preening, his coos whine, wings spreading out in the proper display position and trying to nudge him to continue where his abuser left off. No wonder Tommy insisted on grooming himself if he’s been manipulated like this for so long. Except Philza doesn’t know why he’s stuck like this, how his abuser forced the instinct to be so overwhelming.

His heart breaking, Philza hugs his poor hatchling. He begs Tommy to snap out of it, but he can’t understand a word he says. Tommy is only confused why he isn’t being petted anymore, quietly cooing in the same affectionate tone his abuser forced out of him. He seems distressed that Philza refuses to preen him, only calming when Philza echoes his coos, nestling into his arms contentedly as Philza stiffly runs a hand down his feathered back. Is this just making it worse? Is he trapping Tommy further in his instincts? But every time he stops Tommy’s coos sound so concerned. Terrified, almost, like he expects to be hurt the moment the love bombing stops. Philza abhors whatever it took to make him like this. So he holds the hurt hatchling, at a loss as to how to heal the wounds driven through his body to the soul within.

When Tommy finally comes out of his trance, he begins to sob for what’s been done to him. Philza only hugs him tighter, suppressing the worried coos building up in his throat, scared of shoving Tommy back into his trance.

Next>

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fruitbythefoot7 · 6 months

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bylerween day 4: attacked by vecna

inspired by body terror song by ajj, and the s5 hc of will getting attacked by vecna on the hilltop, as a parallel to s2! this one was a challenge for me, and i kinda think they look a lil goofy, but what do expect from cartoon horror lmao

@bylerween2023

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monstrouslyobsessed · 1 year

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Concept : Reader is a shrine priestess and have a crush on the shrine priest. But he is so powerful that people made a contract with the snake demon. They let him eat the priest in exchange for not attacking the village. The priest tried to fight the snake, but he was defeated. The villagers cut off his arms, so the snake can eat him better. Reader tried to save him, but was locked away in the shrine. But the priest cursed the village and his fused with the snake making him a snake monster he killed all the villagers and cut off six arms to replace those he lost. And now he can claim his sweet shrine maiden all for himself. (Sorry if its quite long and detailed, do as you wish) Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: alright, i’ll bite and do this one with my own take, but please add the source behind such suggestions next time lol this one is originally from the compilation manga ive read forever ago, Hachishaku Hachiwa Keraku Meguri (TW!!! under-age, noncon, horror, extremely dead dove!!!), specifically the 4th story. i…don’t recommend reading every story btw, some of them are very…yikes, but the 4th one is pretty good if you can get past a certain issue (namely, the mc’s vague age range). the main difference is that the monster is a woman and mc’s a guy.

if you want my personal recs, stick with reading 3rd (the statues, is okay), 4th (6-armed snake lady, fave if only because of the monster’s beautiful design and backstory but wished the mc would be someone older), and 5th (swamp-worm monster in the forest, warning, pregnancy/birthing is involved, is okay) story and ignore the rest. 2nd (the monster on the road) is okay, actually, but i hated the monster’s creepy old man design lol rest is just a big fat no to me for various reasons.

anyway….i rambled enough. i think…i might actually keep this character, even if he isn't entirely original and is (almost) literally the genderbent version from the manga. i actually envisioned him with dark-colored skin though. hm, so the setting might even be different! i’ll let yall decide~enjoy!

—tw / tags: gn reader, horror, gore, violence, imprisonment, neglect, implied multiple deaths, amputations, general yandere themes, sfw…ish

—featured character(s): 6-armed snake-god / cursed priest

You can hear the screaming in your ears, the horrible gut-wrenching shrieks heralding the arrival of death. The earth rumbled distantly beneath your feet, striking unspeakable fear in your cold veins, pounding your heart, and your empty stomach twisting with nausea. You shuddered and your voice came out weak, dehydrated, “N-no…”

Raking your throbbing nails down the wood, bloody raw from scratching and pounding on the chained door, you fell to your knees and bowed your head. You’ve warned them, that the demon would not accept the trade—or that the priest wouldn’t retaliate in some way. A choke erupted from your dusty throat at the vision of the priest you cherished so, so much flashed within your mind.

His warming smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, had transformed into something wrathful and malicious. His expression became one that spoke of murder, of dark, malevolent intent, as the hateful village men severed his arms and fed him into the yawning mouth of the snake-god. It wasn’t his cruel fate that had broken your heart and shattered it into pieces though.

The very moment before he disappeared into the slicked depth of the demon’s belly, the priest saw you and wore a horrified face. With blood tears running down his eyes, he interrupted his furious cursing with a soft whisper of your name. You remembered screaming through your tears and fighting against the fisted hands of burly men then, when the snake-god folded its mouth shut and swallowed him whole.

That was the last you’d seen of him and wept his name as the men dragged you from the forest clearing, satisfied that you were too weak to save the one they all feared.

He shouldn’t have died fearing for you.

As they’d thrown you into the dilapidated shrine, you were numbed with fury and sorrow and shouted that the demon would hunger for their flesh once more, that the priest had cursed them all, when they slammed the door shut and leave you for the dead. Your pleas and cries grew hoarse as you screamed your grief to the sky. There was no reply, only jeers from the village in the distance, as if laughing about your foolishness, that you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the priest.

Their cruelty was beyond your comprehension

You had no idea how long time had passed, there was no light in this rotting shrine, not even a single peek of any warm sunlight or the moon’s soft glow. There was no water, for your throat ran dry and your skin tightened on your bones, and there was no food as your stomach stopped rumbling some time ago. The villagers intended to let you die alone, pitifully and bitterly alone.

It could’ve been days, it could’ve been weeks, when you rose your head from the coarse ground, confused. Weakly, your hand reached towards the wooden door, and your calloused fingers traced around its edges, feeling along the rough surface and finding the raw marks you left behind, until they settled on a crook. Something familiar electrified the air, the sense of power pressed into your senses. You furrowed your brows—before fear sunk in your nerves once more.

The demon had returned to welt its hunger.

Screams followed and you remained in the shrine, with no more tears to shed. You couldn’t weep for the cruel men and your tongue was too dry for you to utter even a single prayer for the innocent children you once tended to. You bowed your head between your knees, but you were still alive.

You still knew fear, trembling with the desire to live.

Your hands were shaking wildly, but you forced them back into prayer as the screams continued unabated. The walls rattled with thunderous crashes. Louder and louder, until finally, after hours of agony, they stopped. Silence followed.

Only silence and the smell of blood, lingered. And an ominous feeling.

You slowly rose from your hunched position, your gaze fixed on the wooden door. The air had turned heavy with tension, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Something approached, quietly grinding the pebbles and dirt underfoot as it moved closer and closer.

Somehow, the walls started swaying and the sound of cracking timber reached your ears, rising above the deafening sounds of your heartbeats and your shuddering breathing. You clasped your hands into a prayer once more and begged the gods to answer, to spare you from the belly of the snake-god. Your prayers became desperate begging, for mercy.

As if in response to your prayer, the ceiling creaked and groaned and a low growl emanated from above. Your eyes widened, and you stumbled backward, barely catching yourself on a nearby pillar. The walls rumbled, and cracks began appearing along the floorboards.

Then, the light.

It cut into the pitch-black darkness you’d been trapped in for days and blinded you. Clasping your hands over your eyes, wincing in discomfort as if light burned you, something exploded overhead, shattering the roof tiles and raining tiny chunks onto your head. You flinched at the loud noise, shielding your face and ducking your head between your legs from any further danger.

As the crackling groan quietened, you remained still—half expecting the pain to cut into your skin and long teeth tearing into your brittle flesh. But, silence hangs thickly above into the air. As if in waiting for you to unveil your eyes to the world.

You hesitated, before slowly lifting your head, squinting and blinking against the light. When you adjusted to the brightness, you blinked and saw shadows. Shadows cast by a massive serpentine being coiling amidst the splinters and rocks littering the ground all around you, staring down at you with glowing golden eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat and you staggered forward, your arms reaching above your head, “—! You…you came back…?” Your words broke and dissolved into hiccupping sobs that shook your frail frame.

Long discolored arms distended from the being’s side, wrapping around you in a dangerous embrace. The priest’s pale face buried into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling into your dirt-caked hair and releasing a deep purr. Its body vibrated and you felt yourself being lifted from the ground. Your arms instinctively snaked themselves tighter around its thin neck, your cheek pressing against its strangely scaled skin, and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. “Don’t leave me…please don’t leave me again…” You cried, with rivers of tears falling down your cheeks.

Tears you thought were completely dried out.

This was not the priest you remembered, his ashen body protruding from the mouth of the dead-eyed snake-god, his grin jarring with a smile too large for his handsome face, and having a few arms too many stitched to his sides. But as his fiery golden eyes warmed and his touches overly gentle on your skin, you knew. This was the same man you loved, the very man who never ceased to cherish you and always looked for ways to make you smile on bad days. Even after all this time. Even when everything else changed, he remained steadfast, loving, and kind.

—though, only to you, as he held you as if you were the most precious jewel in his world. Despite his loving gaze, he was dressed in the blood and guts of those he’d gleefully slaughtered for their slights against him, glimmering on his eternally long tail in the moonlight. Yes, he gripped your tiny body tighter to his emaciated body, all he’ll ever need is you.

—end

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vampirel0re · 1 year

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I'm innocent I promise x

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clownrecess · 11 months

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(TW VENT AND VIOLENCE MENTION)

Everyone experience different and need stop act like everybody same.

Neurofeedback HURT ME. NOT HELP. NOT HELP ME.

Neurofeedback supposed to help people, NOT HELP ME. HURT. HURT.

my brain waves were "irregular", it made me feel sick, and I want to cry.

STOP ACT LIKE ALL HELP. Help some. not all. not help me. feel terrible. hurt. hurt.

made me feel fucking terrible and I want someone to crush my head with a sledge hammer. (/nsrs)

#tw vent #vent #tw violent death #tw violent thoughts #tw violence #neurofeedback #nonspeaking #high support needs #actually autistic #neurodivergent #aac user #autism #nonspeaking autistic #aac users #disabled #nonverbal #no rb

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caywinn · 7 months

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Not looking forward to the fact that apparently the first episode of hotd season two is called “A son for a son” and that Dyana is also in the second episode so im assuming b&c is a two parter? Makes sense, but i was hoping to not jump into two toddlers and a baby getting attacked and their mother having to choose between which son to kill so they dont rape her daughter. Also i just am not looking forward to seeing Alicent and Helena suffering like that. Because apparently (i saw a tumblr post about it dont know how accurate it is or who posted it) that the writers wanted to have Alicent raped during it? And Olivia shut that down immediately (understandable). The got/hotd writers love having women suffer, it doesnt matter if you hate the greens, blacks, Rhaenyra, Cersie, Sansa, Dany, they ALL suffered and deserved better.

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cherryqueenoftarts · 2 years

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Someone here asked why Jack doesn't yet suspect that someone is preying on Lucy, and it got me thinking. It's a great point. The Jack the Ripper murders predate Dracula by a few years. Why wouldn't Jack, a man who deals with people like Renfield every day, think of the Ripper and begin putting together a theory of some madman (his term) crawling through Lucy's window at night?

I poked around Google to see if there's any connection between Stoker and the Ripper. Aside from him meeting two men suspected of being the Ripper (did he know they were suspects? it didn't say), there doesn't seem to be much there. One source did mention that he made a comparison between the evil of the Ripper and the evil of Dracula. So we know Stoker was aware of serial killers; hence Seward should be, too.

Anyway as I was reading my findings I was struck by something else. In multiple sources people dismiss the idea that Dracula was based on the Ripper because the Ripper tortured and killed prostitutes while Dracula "romantically" preys on high class ladies.

You guys.

Okay, to be clear, I don't see much evidence that Stoker based Dracula on the Ripper.

But like. Did any of these people read the book? Romantically? Ffs.

Also (and this is the point I've been working towards, believe it or not) the idea that Dracula doesn't prey on poor sex workers just annoys me. We have no idea. No one would tell us, in this epistolary novel, if sex workers were turning up dead in London gutters. It's not newsworthy when a sex worker dies looking pale but otherwise unharmed. We've seen that Drac has a huge appetite (*cough*Demeter crew*cough*). The fact he *hasn't* killed Lucy yet implies an almost guarantee that he's eating other people. Who better than sex workers? Maybe some vagrants here and there, too. The way they die would likely mislead most people who found the bodies into thinking it wasn't by violence, too.

Dracula likes to slowly torture and draw out his kill when it comes to Lucy. Is she the only one? We have no idea.

Aaand now I want a story about Dracula's unknown victims.

Okay, so what about the fact that London isn't becoming overrun with fledgling vampires? Well, idk if Stoker ever gives us an explanation for how Drac makes new vampires, but it's clearly not an automatic thing, or Transylvania would have a lot more of them (a lot of them babies--yikes).

Will someone pretty please write the story of these missing victims?

Maybe I'll take a crack at it...

#dracula daily #lucy westenra #dracula #dr seward #dracula speculation #bram stoker #jack the ripper #tw serial killers #tw baby mention #tw dead body #tw death #tw violent death

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faux0buggy · 8 months

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💙🥀You yearn to be that dream you could never get to

'Cause the person on the other side has always just been you

Oh, God, turn me into a flower🥀💙

Magdala, Daemon and Eden’s mother, was Mammons/Lucifers wife for 8 years before her death. She’s the most important character in Flipside in a tragic way, he death was a domino effect causing a lot of important events to occur.

Magdala was a happy young woman, full of life and creativity. She was an abstract artist and made jewelry with her mother on the side. When she was 18 she met a man who seemed to be a but older than her but fell for him hard. Magdala liked that he had a type of charisma that you’d only find in a cheesy romance novel, she loved trying new things and he seemed like something different so she followed him anywhere he’d take her.

Her parents didn’t like this man Magdala was talking to, they didn’t know why but something felt off about him. At 20 she was pregnant with twins, and the man had convinced her to come live with him. Magdala wasn’t sure, she didn’t want to leave her parents behind but her family didn’t have enough resources to take care of twins. The man finally reveals his true self to Magdala, telling her that he’s the Devil and if she marries him he’d take care of her and the babies, promised her that she would get to live a lavish lifestyle. She hesitantly agrees and says her final last goodbye’s to her parents. She wasn’t allowed to see or speak to them after they were married, it would look bad for him if the public found out he’d married a poor young imp.

To make it seem like she was some type of rich socialite before they were married, Lucifer went around selling Magdala’s paintings and gifting them to associates, bribing them with more power and money they could imagine if they went along with this façade.

Magdala slowly started to realize Lucifer wasn’t really how he portrayed himself to be. She was a naïve girl when she met him, and now she’s trapped with her babies in this life she never wanted. Every year, she’d notice something off about Lucifer. The way he treated the twins differently, only spending time with Daemon and treating Eden like a nuisance. He’d get more mean, loud, and angry as the years past until Magdala snapped.

Late one night when the twins were asleep, and was Lucifer in his office, Magdala started packing anything she could fit into her luggage. She heard a slam and zipped up her luggage running towards the twins bedroom. Right before she could even grab the doorknob she’s snatched away and drops the luggage.

Lucifer was furious that she would even consider running off, especially with Daemon. He begged her to only take Eden, he couldn’t lose his heir. Magdala wasn’t going anywhere without both of her children, Lucifer glared at her in silence. Magdala, thinking she’d won, slowly started to head back to the twins bedroom. He lunges at her from behind, knife in hand, if he couldn’t have his way he’d make it happen any way possible. Magdala tried her hardest to fight him off but it was too late, he had slit her throat. The last thing she saw was her babies bedroom door, with her luggage right in front, wishing she was faster and stronger so she would’ve made her escape with her children.

She was found a year later, poorly buried in the carnation beds in the mansions garden by a 9 year old Daemon.

#I’m not a writer sorry if this doesn’t make sense #tw death #oc #oc stuff #ocs #my art #my oc art #procreate #demon oc #imp oc #oc lore #tw violent death #Spotify #magdala #flipside

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waves-against-a-cliff · 1 year

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I won’t go back - toxic!Soap x You x Valeria

Warning - this contains violence, major character death, panic attacks. Hurt/comfort, description of dying, stalking, toxic behaviors and relationships. Soap is SO OUT OF CHARACTER. Fem reader, but only by Soap calling you Bonnie

There he stood, looking at you. You felt violated and he hadn’t even touched you but his eyes told you everything. Valeria stood beside you, sending daggers at him and by instinct you hidden partially behind her. Struggling to keep your breaths even as you felt his piercing blue eyes on you, your throat burned from the mixture of pressure from the lump in the back and the bile threatening to force its way up. “Bonnie,” he started, eyes not leaving your body.

“Don’t start that shit, monstrou.” Valeria hissed, moving to cover your enter shaking form as the breathing techniques quickly failed you. Descending into a panic attack, you could barely hear the conversation as you pushed further into yourself. You weren’t here with him, you were at home. Reading the latest book from your favourite author, the one Johnny always judged you for liking.

“Ye ‘ave no right to keep ‘er from me.” Johnny growled, his Scottish accent thick with anger as it pushed through your fantasy.

“Go away.” You whispered and Valeria looked at you, asking you repeat that. “I said, go away John!” You screamed, tears running down your cheeks as you delved into sobs.

“You’re making her upset.” Valeria said, trying to use your emotions to convince Soap that he wasn’t wanted or needed here. Soap looked at you, his eyes focusing on your shaking form, convulsing with sobs. This wasn’t right, you were supposed to be happy to him. See how he changed, oh god how much he changed and all for you. “Bonnie, please. I’ve changed, you don’t have to stay with her if you don’t want to.” He cooed, taking step forward and hearing a gun click. Looking back over at Valeria who pointed a gun at him. “Not one more step, perra.” Soap clicked his tongue at the sight.

“Bonnie please look at me.” He pleaded, getting down on one knee to be eye to eye with you. You shook your head no, whispering it over and over again. “I said, look at me.” He shouted and you looked up, obeying his order. The familiar feeling of vomit creeping up your throat came back as his eyes bled into yours, he whispered you name, holding out a hand. You looked at it and back at Valeria before scrambling back behind her. His smile quickly fell into a scowl. “So that’s how it gonna be, eh?” He asked before standing up. Soap looked at Valeria before charging at her, getting shot in the arm before he grabbed the gun from her. You panicked, heart racing as Valeria and Johnny tumbled beside you in a wrestle for the gun. You felt for the pocket knife you always kept on you before realizing it was in the cabin behind you.

You looked at the cabin and back at Valeria, “Go!” She shouted, struggling against Soaps full body weight. Scrambling to your feet, you heard him shout something and a hard hit. Running into the house, you slammed the door as something ran right into it, locking it quickly. Running to your shared room, you dug into your bag, breathing erratic. You heard the door break from its locked position and stomping coming from the hall. Tears blocking your vision, you grabbed onto tue familiar metal. Turning around to see Johnny staring at you and your knife. “Bonnie… hand it over.” He tried but you shook your head, “Hand it over!” He screamed, making you flinch.

“I won’t. I won’t go back with you.” You said, “If you love me, you’ll let me go.” At that he scoffed, telling you he loves you too much to let you go. His pretty Bonnie was only meant for him and no one else. He stepped forward and you didn’t hesitate, plunging the knife straight into him without a thought. Your military training taking over for you as he stumbled back and you plunged it in a second, third, fourth time. Crying and screaming at him to leave you alone. He held a hand to the wound, blood seeping into his shirt and onto his hand. He struggled to breath, the knife having punched into his lung, falling backwards and leaving a bloodied hand print on the door frame when he failed to catch himself. Wheezing, his eyes frantically trying to meet your blown pupils.

Valeria stumbled into the doorway, holding her head in one hand and the gun in the next. Her eyes immediately locking onto your form, hands red with blood and clothes splattered with it. She ran to comfort you, immediately hiding your face into her chest as you sobbed. Because at one point, you loved him. You loved him so much you dealt with him for years, and now you had stabbed him. She held you as he bled on the floor, gasping for air. His hand reached for yours, locking his fingers with yours despite you trying to pull away. “Amor, está bien.” She whispered over and over again as she rocked you. It was the last sight he saw and heard, your crying form as Valeria comforted you.

@simonrileyscockring

#soap mw2 #soap x you #soap x y/n #toxic bf soap #valeria x reader #valeria x you #tw stalking #tw violent death #tw stabbing #tw panic attack

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