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xxtc-96xx · 1 day
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somehow they made it
my patreon
my kofi
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dragonpyre · 2 days
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Reverse Robins! Follow up to this comic where Robin!Jason meets a certain someone...
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sansxfuckyou · 13 hours
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karma's the judge
Summary: Clay learns that Viva is pink down to her very core- well, more of a magenta color right under her skin, the deeper into her flesh the more purple it gets.
Warnings: gore, near death, hospitals, agony, i cannot stress enough that this is not romantic, check Ao3 port for full tags
Authors Note: me and @ohposhers got talking, I'm legally not allowed to say anything else about the convo aside from the fact it inspired this fic. title from FØØL, specifically the INHUMAN remix. hope ya'll enjoy and if ya do consider dropping a like or reblog, or checkin' the Ao3 port.
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It's only a mildly horrific sight for Clay to see.
He's lying actually.
The sound of the predator running off into the underbrush is still heavy in the air with cracking branches and rustling leaves. It echoes in his ears; that and the sound of Viva's laboured breathing. Her breath stutters as she wheezes, paw hovering over the bright blue shards in her chest and stomach. She's shredded in every sense including literal.
"C-Clay," Viva barely manages to get out, fat tears rolling down her face as agony surges through her. Neon magenta oozes out of rended flesh and seeps into fabric and slides down from her nose. Ears downturned and claws detracted, she's still in fight mode even though she should've ran with the rest of them.
Words are failing to form for Clay as he takes hasty, yet tentative, steps closer to his companion. Then she coughs, she sounds like death incarnate. Wet and shaky; phlegmy blood spills past her teeth and the gouges in her torso bubble up with her blood, the glass sinks deeper into her flesh. She's curling in on herself as she shudders and shakes and loose flesh trails on the dirt in stringy tendons. She grips for the shards to pull them out but even with adrenaline she's still fading fast. Her eyes flutter shut as the sharp edges slice her hands open to match the rest of her torn up body.
Viva falls limp and Clay is just frozen as he stares at their leader. Her chest rises and falls impossibly slow, she should be dead but she isn't and that gives just enough kick to get Clay to move and save her. Try to at least.
Clay drops down beside her and runs a paw across her wounds, checking the depth and the intensity aside from looking so bad it makes him feel nauseated. She shudders in her passed out state, tensing and flexing her claws against the unknown. The blood on his paws contrasts his own fur so much it makes him gag, the slimy texture of coalescing and cooling Pop Troll blood; it's lukewarm and drips but it's thick with bits of flesh. He wants to hurl as he shuffles Viva around a bit, she curls and shifts and hisses in her restless and forced state of sleep as he tries to help her.
Her cape is slowly wrapped around her body and her blood clings to the tufts of fur on the bottom and collar of the cape. The capes exterior doesn't hold in the blood, at all. Instead the magenta substance just slides off it, seeping through the fabric interior and slowly dripping down pieces of faux grass. Her breath heaves and her body is near entirely limp as it's restricted, Clay has to keep her head from hanging awkwardly and further straining her body as he carries her.
-/-/-/-
Viva jolts awake, body tingling with anesthetic that hasn't fully worn off. And as fast as she's shocked herself upright she's buckling in half due to an agonizing pain shooting up from her abdomen to her sternum. She clutches desperately only to find a similar pain resting heavy in her arm. Only then does she let her vision register as a train of thought in her head instead of bouncing from reflex to reflex.
White bandages wrap her arm and she isn't wearing a shirt, her entire torso is wound up in gauze that's a blend of magenta and almost purple with the darkness. She uses her other paw to touch it, and it's almost damp, that makes her stomach turn. She presses a bit more, higher up, and then she hits stitches left uncovered almost at her clavicles.
She glances down further and finds her leg covered in a thick layer of gauze, she can barely move her toes with how tight it is. And the magenta. She feels ill as the scent of drying and gelatinizing blood really sets in as hers instead of some other Troll in the medical ward.
Viva tries to move again, get off the bed and walk purely to spite the agony ripping through every wound on her (some unstitched but she can't tell with how much gauze she's wearing). Her paws rest shakily on the cot and so little effort leaves her winded, struggling to breath instead of cry out in pain. She's the leader. She has to be strong.
The second her toes hit the floor she swears she can hear something snap and she screams. Every torn tendon and string of muscle in her leg tries to fire all at once, preemptively activating to hold her weight, and the rush of blood darkens her gauze. It hurts enough to push her to tears as she falls back on the bed and clutches her leg. The agony in her arms and torso doesn't do much to deter her from holding the wound even as the sheets below her start to turn pink.
"Viva!"
Clay, it's Clay whose coming and closing the door behind him and rushing over. She bites back sniffles and pathetic little sounds as she lets go of her leg and relaxes just a bit. Her body lays prone on the cot, arms at her side and legs loose as Clay comes to her side.
"You were supposed to be out cold for fifteen more minutes," Clay said quietly. Then he laughs a little bit, awkward and forced, "I should've known you'd fight through the anesthetic though."
Viva laughs too even though there's nothing funny, "What happened?"
"You don't remember?" Horror rests heavy on Clay's voice as he speaks.
Viva rephrases, "How am I still alive?"
"Look, all I can't find any logical reason as to why considering how wrecked you were. But let's just take it and run." Clay's eyes linger on the darkness of Viva's terribly done excuse of a cast. He should've added more layers of gauze, or made actual casting materials.
"Did anyone else get hurt?" Viva asked, trying to sit up but pushed back down by Clay. She reluctantly stays still.
"No one else got hurt, the tribes really, really worried though," Clay said quietly, "But I have everything under control, just stay in bed till you're healed up."
Viva's blood goes cold at the notions of being bedridden for music knows how long. Her eyes widen a little bit and she stares at Clay, "What are you planning, Clay?"
Clay laughs nervously, "Nothing much, ya know, just taking reign until you're better."
"What."
"For your own health! It'll be fine!"
Viva gives a long sigh as she closes her eyes, "Don't mess it up, Clay."
"I won't! Besides, I've been doing the legal stuff, it'll be fine."
"Have fun socializing and being the funboy again."
Clay swallows hard. Right. Funboy. He'll have to be the funboy again. It makes hims stomach knot but he nods along because he knows. Being the funboy, he's pretty sure the notions alone make his mind flood with dysphoria.
But for Viva's sake?
He'll manage.
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elmhat · 2 days
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// dsmp rp
@sam-and-dream-week day 4 — "torture"
TW: aftermath of torture (duh)
“It shouldn’t be stuck in this far,” said Sam, tugging at the wooden stake lodged in Dream’s arm.
Dream winced at the pain, biting the inside of his cheek. “Sorry,” he replied, with a healthy touch of sarcasm. Maybe Sam should ask Quackity to apologize, if it was such a big deal. They must have some pretty interesting conversations anyway.
Sam eyed him while he worked. “Don’t use that tone with me. We both know who’s to blame for this.”
“Y’know, I kinda— I feel like we’re gonna have pretty different answers,” said Dream. He couldn’t help it, he was amused.
Sam ignored him entirely. With one hand, he dug metal fingers into the flesh of Dream’s arm. With the other, he gripped the stake, grunting as he pulled it free in a flurry of oozing blood. Dream yelled out, of course, but Sam ignored that too, immediately going to apply regen to the fresh new hole. “All you have to do is give me the book,” he said. “That’s it. That’s literally it. It’s not hard.”
“Like you actually give a shit about that,” Dream muttered. His arm hurt. His arm really hurt.
“Of course I care about the book, what? I’ve told you that since day one.”
Day one was who knows how long ago now. Dream would guess it had been a couple of weeks, at least, but he was painfully aware that time was probably passing far slower for him than the rest of the world. A lot could change in a couple of weeks; Dream had always been good at making use of his time. Quackity was also good at making use of his time.
“Really,” said Dream. “So, before this, when I was still… free… you still would’ve cared about the revival book? That’s— That still would’ve been, like, top priority?”
Sam sat back on his heels, wiping a bloodied arm across his bloodied forehead. “Dream, what are you saying. Before you were in here, we didn’t even know the book existed!”
“No— but if you did, though.” Dream took a nervous breath before he said the next part. “Pretend Punz doesn’t show up. And then I tell you— as a friend, I tell you, about the book. Then what?”
In an obvious bid to avoid the question, Sam began rifling through his medkit. Lots of bottles in there—healing potions, mostly, but also regen and fire res, for emergencies. Maybe Dream could steal one, at some point. When he had two functional arms. Sam soaked a cloth in more regen, which he wasn’t gentle about applying. “It doesn’t even matter what I’d do,” he said, “it didn’t happen.”
“But if it did,” said Dream.
“You shouldn’t have that kind of power,” Sam snapped, forcing eye contact. “You shouldn’t. And the rest of the server wouldn’t allow it either— you know, it’s not just us who need that book. It’s for all of us. For the good of the world.”
Through the throbbing, nauseating pain, Dream felt a kind of smugness settle in his chest. Even now, even here, he was able to provoke a reaction from his warden—and they both knew that Dream was right, Sam was just too much of a coward to admit it. There was power in words, and words were the one thing that they would never be able to take from him. Not if they continued claiming to want that precious book.
“Sorry,” Dream said eventually, and he even bowed his head a little, just to make Sam feel like he had won whatever contest this was.
Within the walls of this prison, Dream had never been honest. Not with Sam, not about this place or its purpose. That was the nature of their relationship. The builder and the mastermind. The puppet and the strings. Sam could send in his attack dog all he liked, but Dream was still the one holding the leash.
That was what his mind repeated, long into the night, while he awaited Quackity’s return.
~
[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]
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delopsia · 2 days
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Because I'm still on my PBR!Rhett bullshit
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cryptidkreates · 2 days
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"Don't fucking touch him!"
im glad someone rocked his shit for this
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roglaert · 2 days
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Not Jasper Stuyven saying that Wout undergoes surgery first and then it's his turn so maybe they can share coffee together on their sickbeds in the morning 😭❤️‍🩹
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incorrectbatfam · 12 hours
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What company did Blaise work for that ignored safety? Because it would be hilarious if it was a hand railing manufacturer.
He worked for a company that did concert pyrotechnics. His boss was always cutting corners and ignored multiple warnings for safety, but Blaise put up with it because he liked pyrotechnics and enjoyed the people he worked with, including his childhood best friend Charlie Burns. It all changed at a concert when a faulty piece of fireworks equipment resulted in Charlie getting permanently injured. Blaise ghosted his job for a couple weeks as he grappled with self-blame as he felt he should've taken more of a stand against their boss, and after getting officially fired for abandonment, he turned his anger outward. What officially set him on his criminal course was a month of stalking his former boss, gathering incriminating evidence, leaking everything to the Gotham Gazette as an anonymous whistleblower, and burning the boss's office to the ground as a final act of revenge
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glass-noodle · 16 hours
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123puppy · 12 hours
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I'm having a revelation-
Al steps on a thorn but his pain tolerance is high as MF so he doesn't realize he's walking with a sharp object in his hoof (it's not noticeable by those who aren't keen on small details but to those that are, there's a tiny blood patch trailing behind him with each step because the thorn is in deep) but around day 3 he starts feeling a tingling in his leg and it starts to sting when he put pressure on his hoof but he thinks nothing about it is serious but it is serious, the injury is becoming infected-
Soon his walk becomes a limp and everyone notices. He brushes it off and ignores Charlie's fretting bc it's nothing, it's fine, it'll go away stop making a scene out of it, but Charlie is Charlie she's freaking all the way the fuck out and Lucifer gets involved "You're scaring her you ass" and Alastor is having none of it he says bye (he is NOT running because he feels cornered y'know like how a scared animal is when they're injured feeling too much attention on them) and evaporates out of existence
Now I can't get the thought of Lucifer chasing Alastor down but that would only escalate the situation and Charlie quickly intervenes telling her father that the more he hounds Al the stronger the possibility of him 'disappearing' for a week is on the table and that is NOT an option
Honestly, that's all I got rn this is me writing this shit while giddy with the idea of Alastor refusing help bc he doesn't trust anyone out of fear/looking weak and/or it's his deer instincts surfacing the more the pain escalates into something he can't ignore but he'll damn well try if it means not going to someone lol he can't stand the thought of asking for help it physically hurts him
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liminal-station · 2 days
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MARCH 30-31: IDES OF GHETSIS
Join your favorite weirdos in an epic two-day battle against LORD GHETSIS! This is a medium to high stakes event, an anons are allowed to participate too!
Your goal? Work together with the Fox Prince N to take the false king off his feet and open him up for the killing blow! Will the combined forces of Rotomblr succeed, or will time be frozen forever?
If you don’t want your character to get too badly injured, there will be transportation to a medical facility afterward. Nobody will be killed (unless that’s your plan and you DM me about it)
Take up your arms, it’s time to kill a god!
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bamsara · 1 month
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great, now they need a bath
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emthimofnight · 2 months
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Shadow is forward for once and Sonic (rightfully so) assumes he's dying
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taviamoth · 2 months
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The world continues to look on
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fluffyartbl0g · 2 months
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Pirate Hunter
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jenny-jinya · 1 year
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TW: animal death / injury / death For grandma, who loved pigeons, and for grandpa, who did not but wanted her to be happy. Please hear me out <3 WEBTOON
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