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coffin-dancers · 7 months

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MURDER-SUICIDE EVERYBODY GIVE IT UP FOR MURDER-SUICIDE

#the coffin of andy and leyley #knives tw #neck trauma tw #tcoaal #gravecest #coffinshipping #coffincest #andrew graves #ashley graves

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freezing-kaiju · 8 months

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Lunatic of the Flesh

@my-ceiling-is-tilted 's Biotober prompts 7, 17, and 25: Cancerous, Mutation, and Infection.

Warnings: extreme body horror, werewolves, biting and neck trauma, intimacy, it's about a werewolf themed resident evil infection going horribly wrong so make of that what you will! it's also a bit t4t

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The bus stop close to my old home has been chewed on.

Bites have been ripped out, glass lines the bench, and, on the metal, patches of fuzz grow, waving in the wind. There’s the sound of crickets and toads, but no cars, nothing save for the bus rattling away behind me and the wheels of my baggage against the ground.

The plants grow thick, choked with weeds and bursting with gorgeous flowers, except for patches here and there that lay covered in hair. Great tendrils of matted fur, gray and blue and black, swaying like grass in the breeze. Deer bound through the distance in packs twenty strong.

The bus patrols exist for the infected. I’ll count as one soon, so it’s fine.

I fix my makeup in the window. Wouldn’t want to disgust them. After all…

——

…they’re beautiful.

Not from tip to toe, I know that. Slinking through the forest, I see some dragging massive, misshapen claws, some dangling boils, some with extra halves of jaws. Their hunts of the massive deer seem mutual; their destructive power is so increased, but the deer are so much faster, and they’re working so hard to catch their prey. Their imposing snouts, so well-suited to eating and howling… their ears, so soft-looking, so perfectly pointed… their backs so arched, their tails so long and fluffy, everything about them is so. Unbelievably. Perfect.

And yet, none of them are the right one. Maybe they know this; the first to catch sight of me slipped its pulsing violet eyes away not a moment after, likely out of disinterest. Maybe the foliage, leaves and bushes dead and alive, hides me perfectly.

Maybe… I’m already something else’s prey.

I stop, look behind myself. Nothing but the same fallen leaves concealing the same insects, the same trees looming thin and tall above me like the bars of a disorganized prison, but…

Above me.

Something flicked.

I look the rest of the way up and drop my luggage.

A wolf. Poised between the trees, spread on all four of its pristine limbs, a massive, gorgeous wolf.

“RUN,” it cajoles.

I can’t.

The few tendrils that shiver on its body are symmetrical. Its teeth are so well-kept they shine. Its third eye lingers above the left one in the exact place a chunk of winged eyeliner would be, adding to a glorious air of cuntiness that its breasts only further contribute to. Those claws— oh, what I wouldn’t give to be pulled apart by them! And the chest fur… those patterns…

“RUN,” it says again.

“I cannot.”

“TOO WEAK?”

“I refuse! I will join you without wasting your precious energy.”

“JJOIN?”

“I’ll join your pack! I’ll become part of it! I’ll make you MINE!”

The wolf’s chest swells with what had to be pride. Two of the branches I thought might impede it if I needed to run cracked beneath just this simple exertion. “A WEAK HUMAN...WANTS TO JOIN? THE PACK? MINE?”

“Your pack, and nobody else’s!”

“WHY?”

“Because I know you! Do you not recognize me?!”

It took in a shuddering breath, paw scratching its chin in what would be a human gesture were its claws not out and drawing blood. “RECOGNIZE...YOU?”

“Y…” I planted my other foot and stood my ground. “Yeah, Winnie. I came all the way back to meet you again. You…”

God, from the Kingdom Hearts pattern on the chest fur to the strange piercings, she was precisely the same.

“You look like the fursona I helped you make.”

Both paws slammed down in the snow. The wolf’s great head, it—

A motorcycle’s worth of predator.

Launched.

Towards me.

In that moment, I processed it quite like someone had thrown a car at my face, and screamed.

The wolf stopped short.

“IF…I AM WINIFRED… I AM? WINIFRED?”

“Y-yes,” I said, “yes, definitely, you are her and she is you.”

“I…CAN BE HER… THEN, I AM HER.” Winifred rises, not to her full height but a hunched position, like she speaks not to prey but to someone shorter than herself. “AND WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE HER DO?”

“B….bite me. Infect me. Love me! Love me like I always wanted you to, my dear friend, my beloved, make me yours!”

Winifred licks her lips and leans forward, snout inches from my face. “STAND UP…STRAIGHT. NECK OUT.”

I comply, face burning, soul weeping for joy.

Her mouth closes round my throat, and I can….I can feel the moment she penetrates me. Sharp. Clear, but right, I gasp for air and—

And I feel something pumping into my throat.

Dutifully, I swallow, wishing it were in my mouth, wishing I could taste the beauty that would now swallow me whole. I’ll be different, not this ugly, useless thing, but something sleek. Agile. Beautiful. Something that’ll make this all…worth…

——

Before my fur grew in, the hair I’d taken such care to mediocrely raise fell out in clumps that left me sobbing on the bedroom floor. I fear I’ve not lost cause to weep, nor have I stopped looking so…bald.

The glorious snout Winifred bears never grew in properly. My new ears came in in twain, perfectly shaped… the only thing in this wretched body to not split and pustulize. They top a sunken face, one I can hardly see from when my maw splits it to feed. If I look down, I behold a series of lumps; whether breast, stomach, tumor, or chin, I’m incapable of telling. As Winifred tells it, I have a centaur’s form… what grotesque parody of Greek myth she knows, I can’t imagine.

Perhaps I’m meant to have so many, such engorged and muscular legs, maybe their desperate uncoordination is the movement I deserve. After all, this form… I have no clue of the full extent with it, the last mirror brought within my sight is still shards on some barn floor. But I can feel my stomach churn with more than meat, feel parts of myself bloat with a thing beyond blood and meat. Winifred, too, is sometimes…

That venom she pumped into me, so clean and clinical, I… I drool it now. It fills my mouth and drips out when I breathe, onto buckets or the floor of our hideaways. At least, when she isn’t looking.

When she is, my mate licks it from my lips like a woman possessed.

I can’t fathom it, neither the eyes left on my face nor the ones that dot the rest of my body like moles can believe how hungry she’s become. She comes home from hunts or meetings dragging cow after cow, sometimes a bag of human food too, and sets upon me with her tongue and hands faster than I can whimper a greeting. Every hair-coated fold of my body she cleans, licking as if hunting for some buried treasure. Are my moans that rewarding? Is my pain what she wishes? Does she want me to bite back? I can’t, I won’t, my maw will… it’ll do too much damage, truly. I can feel my vestigial tails flop and writhe as she buries her face in my part. When her paw holds the one of mine small and shapen enough to hold hers —I felt every agonizing moment of my right fusing together, and my second left is a mass of knotted fingers— those tails crack and sting with how forcefully they wag.

“My moon,” she calls me, her tongue still exploring an area I’d never wish to touch myself, “my gorgeous moon, the hunt was so long.”

“I am,” I choke out the rote response, “sorry I couldn’t go.”

“No, be thankful. The others spoke covetously of you. It gladdens me…to have you all to myself.”

I feel something bubble up within me, and in a moment of terror, know not if metaphor can affect this husk.

“You’re…just…saying that because you’re stuck with me…”

She laughs at that, a barking laugh, one whose charm I’ve still yet to reach. Have I laughed recently? Only when she stimulated me to, only in…what could be called roughhousing, had I not fallen over, had she not treated me with pup’s gloves afterwards.

“No??? I, like, treasure you,” Winifred said, tongue taking a rest from its travels across my taint. “This was all so lonely before you became—“

“Trapped?”

“What?”

“Trapped, isolated, burdened,” I found myself saying, coughing out each word within a mouthful of venom and teeth, “made into something— something disgusting, something that weighs you down, something that—“

Winifred leapt up from under me, growling like a chainsaw. I folded under those three burning lime eyes, but, curiously, when I silenced myself and slunk lower, Winifred’s own tail and ears dropped back too.

“Selene, I didn’t— never did I consider that—“

“You are a wolf! You’re perfect, everything everyone who’s ever been an edgy adolescent yearned to become! I am…”

“Selene.” Winifred’s paws reached up, squished together my cheeks, forcing our eyes to meet. “I am… the perfect specimen of a normal beastic wolf, yes. But you…” She pressed our snouts nearly together, “you are something special. Your mass of gloriously haphazard legs, your imposing form, every perfect eye and lovely tendril— and your soft, downy fur— and your tails! Their excitement is so… you’re so…”

“It hurts to move,” I whimper. “It hurts to breathe.”

“As does it for me, too,” Winifred admits, and shakes herself off, parts of her arms I never even thought had joints cracking like thunder over the plains.

Her…her own breathing is ragged, too, isn’t it? Winnie’s rib cage had always flexed and contracted, like a butterfly flapping its wings, in a way that I always thought was painless but…

Maybe she’s in as much pain as me.

And maybe...

Ah, she's started with her tongue again...

....maybe I can lose myself in it, too...

#body horror #halloween #biotober #werewolf #infection #nsft #ask to tag #infection tw #gross tw #neck trauma tw #gore tw #gore #neck trauma #writing #my writing

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helldreamz · 2 years

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first post for me woohoo!! i drew me!! + a close up and a little kevin :]

[he/xe/it please!!]

#🍷 post #fictive #streber #spooky month streber #spooky month #scars cw #cw scars #tw scars #neck trauma tw #just in case :]

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calbun · 10 months

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YUCKY DISGUSTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(second img is him without his scarf, Blood, or quill distortion. his muzzle being stained from the blood always sitting there is kinda funny to me its probably all gross and matted hes like a crusty old dog you know the ones)

#genny tag <3 #my art #sonic.exe #blood #blood cw #blood tw #neck trauma #neck trauma tw #(<- last two tags just in case)#(he didnt actually get hurt by anything hes just a body horror beast and likes to stretch his head off his neck)

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kazeofthemagun · 2 years

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Goretober Day 2: Barbed Wire / Strangled

[Insert "dog on a leash" symbolism. What do you do with an angry hound unable to stay in reins? Spike collar. Kumo will not like this one >.>]

#oh you poor trash dog man.....#goretober #goretober 2022 #goretober2022 #my art #gore art tw #blood tw #asphyxiation tw #strangulation tw #neck trauma tw #choking tw #suffocation tw

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smiledotdeer · 2 years

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lethal protection (idk what Buck would need protection from—probably someone being a creep that he didn't notice?? up 2 u)

Send “lethal protection” to have my muse kill someone in order to protect your muse. Send “the dead can’t hurt you” for your muse to kill someone in order to protect my muse.

[ Being in rut makes Cal extra wary and protective.

This means that, while he and Buck are out and about, and he both sees and hears a random passerby start cat calling at his alternate, he responds by pinning his ears back, hugging Buck’s shoulders to keep him close with one arm, pressing the other hand against his stomach, and snarling loud enough for the demon across the street to hear him and get the message.

It hasn’t occurred to him that this is the kind of attention Buck wants. All he can think about is that this is HIS person, this is HIS baby, you WON’T get close and risk hurting them. BACK. OFF.

They don’t. They get closer. They’re even smirking as they reach out, probably to grope Buck’s chest or ass.

They don’t get the chance.

It’s impressive, how quickly Cal builds up enough force and speed to swipe his hand out and use those sharp claws to slice off the other demon’s fingers and come back around to rip open their neck in a matter of a couple seconds. Of course, this means that their warm blood is sprayed all over both of them before they finally collapse and fall still.

Cal doesn’t care...but Buck might. ]

#rut tw #neck trauma tw #radio baby #concubuck #reading you loud and clear (ask)#a day in the afterlife (face to face)#national public radio (dash commentary allowed)

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eglcntine-archived · 2 years

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❛ jesus, we’re fucked, aren’t we? ❜ // @hcmlock , Bellamy Blake

"Yeah,” Murphy remarked with a tilt of his head, gun in hand and primed for the kill. His hand doesn’t waver; doesn’t even know the meaning of hesitation. Bellamy wouldn’t be the first life its ever taken.

Nor the last.

Many more to come because that’s just his luck.

“We are.”

It doesn’t make sense. Make it make sense. How could Bellamy have done this to him in the first place? Kicked that barrel right out from under his feet and made him feel special all at the same time. Fool him once as the saying goes. He won’t make that same mistake again.

Once was enough. Twice just makes him a dumbass. A third? He cocked the gun, smiling. It’s only fair he pays the favor back. A bundle of rope in hand, tossed Bellamy’s way as he gestured with the gun for him to get it on. It’s Bellamy’s turn to feel what he felt. The tight constriction around his throat, the way the fiber of the rope sawed at his skin, how his lungs burned with every passing second, struggling and writhing in the air for breath.

Every desperate plea and cry for help ( Bellamy’s name like poison on his lips ) a callback to Pike’s final lesson; the one where he beat the crap out of him to set an example; to solidify the point that no one is ever going to help you.

So now he’s going to take matters into his own hand. Now, Murphy is going to set the tone and put all these sons of bitches in their fucking goddamn place.

Starting with every last person who participated in his lynching and ending with those motherfuckers in the woods, for every nail they plucked off his hand and every punch and kick he stomached.

“Not so lovey-dovey now, are we?” he asked, circling Bellamy slowly. Stormy hues raged, their sights fixed on the man they wished to destroy the most.

He laughed bitterly, recalling fondly every second spent together. How Bellamy would beckon him forward and Murphy would follow, no questions asked, ready and willing to warm his bed. Feening for that stupid fucking golden retriever smile and the comfort that came from a heavy hand on his shoulder, valuing his opinions; validating his feelings.

“Yeah,” he continued, admitting not just to Bellamy but to himself as well, “There’s no sweet-talking your way out of this one, Bell.”

#asphyxiation tw #torture tw #neck trauma tw #lynching tw #hanging tw #all mentioned but not graphically #ˏˋ°•⁀➷ EGLCNTINE * ANSWERED ‚ fingertips stained with ink .#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ JOHN MURPHY * IC ‚ nine lives motherfucker .#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ JOHN MURPHY * V : THE BEGINNING ‚ nine lives motherfucker .#hcmlock #hcmlock : bellamy blake

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drawbauchery · 8 months

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I added scars on his neck because of a headcanon I have that he has a bad scratching habit, I like to think he barely ever takes off his scarf (partly) because of it

here’s the version without them ^

this gave me a visceral reaction thank you

#opeskyopossum #now in color #danganronpa #bus au #self harm #tw self harm #self harm scars #the tear tracks look so good #and i love the wall?? so simple but it immediately reads hospital #i pretend i do not see Neck Trauma #he is fine

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actual-shintaro · 6 months

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Some redraws of shintaro from like a decade ago

#shintaro kisagari #kisaragi shintaro #kagepro #kagerou project #tw: blood #tw: neck trauma #i sometimes miss drawing kagepro #kagepro fanart

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ferretwhomst · 9 months

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no context for you guys. only ghost bros sadness

dialogue was written by the lovely @inkscrbbles who is the only person thus far to make me cry over my own au JXKXJSJCJSMD

#gravity falls #blood brothers au #stan pines #ghost stan #parallel stan #ford pines #ghost ford #home world ford #ghost bros #stangst #ferret's art #tw suicide #cw suicide #tw blood #cw blood #tw eye trauma #cw eye trauma #tw neck trauma #cw neck trauma

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the-bois-jim-and-jim · 2 years

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They are friends. (actor au)

My favorite actor aus are ones where the horrible monster entities still have their powers in real life, but they are super chill about it and need to pay rent so they get hired for silly little horror movies and then go out for happy hour with their coworkers once the bell rings.

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #septicart #septic art #jse #my art #tw blood #tw neck wound #tw neck trauma #actor au

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