#insect harm tw

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Giant whump, from the perspective of humans being like small animals or insects

Giant who carries their pet human in a little purse like a human would a toy poodle

Giant who tries to help an injured human picks them up off the ground, accidentally squeezing their abdomen a little too tightly between their thumb and forefinger I’ve accidentally killed ants like this and felt really bad about it

Giant finds that a human has made a home in the corner of their apartment. Giant puts them outside to be humane, instead of killing them like their roommate wanted to do, only to realize it is too cold to put them outside when Whumpee instantly curls up into a little ball in the winter air. Giant decides to Keep Whumpee in a little jar, cursing themselves and hoping they’ll recuperate I also accidentally did this with a spider at work because I’m dumb and sometimes forget what season it is, apparently

Human bites being toxic to giants

Certain giants being allergic to human bites, in the way that some people are allergic to bees

Giant finding human who has been hit by a giant car nursing them back to health with cat food in a small animal cage and if you want emotional whump for the giant, have them come back to find the human stiff with gnats in its eyes…

Humans infesting a giant’s house like rats or cockroaches and making the place so dirty it becomes uninhabitable (possibly giving the giant a respiratory infection)

Or, Giant training Human to do tricks like a pet rat

Giants mercy-killing humans that are injured because they’re too small to effectively treat

[elytrafemme]

moments that are too poetic in of themselves to be effectively transformed into poetry (though i'll try) i entered such a panicked frenzy for twelve hours that when the fly was in my room after my brief 30 minutes of calm i just felt my heart in my throat but i stopped panicking just reached this primal level beyond actual words but it grew and grew until it completely changed me and i was actively taunting it and i hunted it down in my room and beat it to death and immediately after couldn't breathe again and now i feel the same tension in my body i felt before that i felt all day. i don't know what the fly is a metaphor for but i think something might have shifted out of place and it might just stay there forever.

[plushpyro]

misc tadc art dump :D

[paradoxproductions]

shes just like me fr fr....

[hawnks]

Continuation of this

Pietro clutches at her skirts, but reels back obediently when she smacks his desperate hands.

“Please, my sweet,” he begs, trailing after her, resisting the urge to grab her again. “Please talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Kelsi doesn’t deign to look at him, simply storms through the estate — a historic castle that had been rather beautiful before her death — hunting down any scrap of her old life.

Her satchel and carpetbag are still in the downstairs closet, exactly where she left them. Even the contents is untouched, a few crumpled receipts and an expired granola bar buried inside.

She grabs both, and the big, red rain coat. Pietro always used to hide candies in the pockets; she stops herself for checking for one.

When she emerges from the closet, he’s directly behind her, so close she can see the tears budding in his eyes, not yet fallen. She doesn’t soothe him—she won’t.

The kitchen is dilapidated. She can’t find anything edible, only food so spoiled it can hardly be considered food at all, and a staggering amount of coffee grounds. Maybe he’d been surviving on caffeine alone, these past years.

“Please,” he tries again. “Kelsi, please?”

“You know my thoughts, Doctor.” She pushes past him, up the stairs to the second floor. The boards creak miserably under her weight, untreated, in poor condition. “I am very, very, very upset with you.”

Despite the derelict condition of the rest of the castle, her room could almost be considered clean. There’s a fine layer of dust on most of the surfaces, but it’s clear that the bedding has been washed somewhat recently, the curtains beaten to get rid of the worst of the residue buildup.

Her wardrobes contents is different, although not how she would expect. New clothes, garments shes never seen before, are hung amidst the rest. They’re soft to the touch, don’t show the signs of deterioration and rigidity that come with neglect.

Pietro had regularly washed each each of them by hand, ironing them carefully before returning them to their rightful place. He wasn’t sure why. During the first few months, he thought she should be comfortable, when she returns. Soon enough he hardly thought at all. It was more of a ritual, a lower-brain habit, to tend to her things, to hunt for any remnants of her scent among the items, to imagine her, vital and alive in these spaces.

She understands this, somehow, without a word. Another exhibit of the madness that consumed him in her absence. Grimacing, she starts shoving fistfuls of fabric into her bag, indiscriminately.

At the bottom, tucked away in the corner, is a pair of boots. Pretty, but functional, fine, embroidered details and treated leather.

The night before she died, she’d complained about her feet aching. They’d surveyed the entire surrounding woods, an arduous endeavor that left her exhausted, sore. He’d gifted her a warm balm, of his own recipe. Awkward as he placed it into her hands; he’d wanted to rub it into her tender muscles himself, she could see the desire in him. But it was a line neither of them had ever broached, a delicate, tremulous thing.

He’d pulled her out of deadly mires. She’d plucked poison barbs from his skin. They’d both risked their lives and reputations for each other, again and again. They knew one another better than anyone. At times it seemed like they could read each other down to the flickering soul.

And yet, there was another distance impossible to broach. Not due to lack of courage, but careful sensibility. It required investigation, a steady hand. Whatever it was between them, it often felt as fragile as spiders silk.

Now it was snapped, forever.

Kelsi shoves into the boots, swallowing down her distaste. It was this, or go barefoot on her journey. She snaps her bags closed. She’s ready to be gone.

Pietro stands in doorway, preventing this.

His head is bowed, fearful of her gaze, but even hunched his height is imposing. She always thought of his as a sproutish man, lean and lanky, but facing him now she’s not sure she could beat him, physically.

“Can you please—“ he bites his lip. “Can’t you be very, very, very upset with me here? Where you’re safe? Where I can see you?”

Kelsi just breathes for a moment. She’s so incensed her rage has surpassed physical revile; she’s only focused on undoing what’s been done, now. “No,” she tells him.

She takes a step forward. And another. They’re toe to toe, and she can almost feel his heart beating, a rabbit-quick pulse. His cheeks flush.

He presses himself into the doorframe, letting her pass. Yielding.

He falls in stride behind her. “Dearest, please. Things are not as you remember them.”

“I know,” she snaps. “You did that.”

His fingers brush her sleeve, cautious but beseeching. “Where are you going?”

“To get them out. I will extract them. Somehow.”

It takes a moment for her to realize Pietro is no longer right behind her. He’s paused in the center of the lobby, staring at her. His expression is hard to decipher, agony and confusion and something without a name.

“You can’t,” he says. She can barely hear it.

“I’m certain I’ll find a way. If there’s any trace of them left in me, I will pluck it out.”

“You can’t,” he says again, louder. “You’ll die.”

She shakes her head. “I already did.”

The great door was never her first choice for access. It’s twice her size, and so heavy she has to throw her entire weight against the wood to budge it. Pietro is saying something to her, but she can’t make it out, too focused on escaping his madness to try.

Finally, the door rocks open.

On the other side is a giant, bloodwasp.

The creatures, roughly the size of a toddler and infinitely more dangerous, had all but vanished from the estate and its surroundings after Pietro’s carnivorous plants took root. Kelsi hadn’t seen one for years after she moved in.

She’s certainly not prepared to deal with one, now.

In her shock she doesn’t hear the click of the bullet in the chamber, but the sound of it firing her knocks her to the ground.

The wasp falls too, dead, a perfect shot through the eye.

Pietro rushes to the door, shutting it quickly. Beyond him, Kelsi spots the thrumming bodies of at least three more wasps. Who knows what their numbers are, how many lurk outside.

Pietro sinks to his knees at her side, bundling her up with an arm around her shoulders, a look of ardent concern on his face. In his other hand, the revolver is still steaming.

“I meant to tell you that the roads are no longer safe,” he says, “but you wouldn’t listen. Now, let’s talk about this like civilized adults.”

But he makes no move to release her. Simply holds her there, against his chest, reveling in skin that’s warm again.

Weakly, Kelsi asks, “Dr. Pragma, where did a scholar learn to shoot like that?”

[kittenchancorruptionarc]

Here, hold this *hands a hand full of worms*

“GAHHH!!! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

[Derek threw the pile of worms onto the ground, flapping his hands rapidly as he has a STRONG look of disgust on his face.]

“WHAT IS YOUR GODDAMN PROBLEM, JACKASS?!”

[hazyaltcare]

A ColdRaven x anonymous goretuber playlist with themes of enemies to lovers, yandere tendencies, and featuring the song Bernadette by IAMX.

Tracklist:

Labrinth - WTF Are We Talking For

The Buttress - Brutus

Ghost and Pals - Honey I'm Home

IAMX - Aphrodisiac

Gothlovee - gore lover

Burn The Ballroom - Kiss Me You Animal

IAMX - Bernadette

Isabel LaRosa - HEARTBEAT

Nico Collins - Hate Me

You can listen to it here.

Mod Haze

[windypuddle]

butterflies

[revenge-is-dead]

Fuck around and find out with my AP art

(My prompt is Trauma Through Horror)

[elytrafemme]

have entered a state of calm where after twelve straight hours of being entirely freaked out to an unusual point i have now entirely slowed because there's a fly in my room i am desperately trying to get out. it's like my heart is in my throat but i can't think for long because there's this primal need to get rid of it. and it's almost therapeutic.

[softestmidnight]

RED BLOODFILES They fly around me, swarming my common sense. Infesting my mind with parasitic eggs and hatching their crimson maggots through my arms, my legs, my heart. I hate them. I hate them more than I hate the situation that brought them here in the first place. At least now, at least in this moment, I hate them.

(Redraw of Red Butterflies. Also, digital piece wooo!)

[wasflypaw]

Art Dump . First 2 are vents w my fursona

[vendettavalor]

Boris' Tattoos and their Meanings

LEFT ARM:

Skull with Barbed Wire Crown

Barbed wire is a common motif in prison tattoos signifying an individual being trapped in the most literal sense, as many prisons feature courtyards with fences lined with barbed wire. Skulls are common symbols in Russia and other European countries meant to represent "showing teeth" and being anti-authority. Crowns of thorns are often a type of religious symbolism referencing penance, hardship, and the desire for redemption through suffering. Crossing these motifs together, this tattoo likely symbolizes that Boris seeks redemption for what he has done while also feeling trapped during his time in incarceration - and that he resents authorities for imprisoning him because he did not think his actions were worth the punishment of jail time.

Russian Club of Thieves

A much more niche symbol, it has ties to organized crime in Russia dating back all the way to the time of the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution. Its usage has become more widespread in modern days but its meaning remains the same. A simplification of the traditional club symbol found on playing cards, the symbol literally means "thief." Exact details as to the kind of thief may vary, but the universal understanding of the term is that the individual donning this tattoo is a thief of some sort. It's far from his most liked symbol. Rather, it was more a symbol he had to pick up in order to blend in with his work.

Anchor

Another very common tattoo to receive, anchors can have many meanings. For sailors, it is a symbol that one has crossed the Atlantic Ocean. Often times, it is combined with a name to symbolize that said person is someone's anchor - as in, inspiration, motivator, or supporter. On its own, the anchor is often meant as a symbol meant to keep its bearer safe and grounded, especially as they travel. For Boris, the anchor was a symbol of hope and safe passage as he left Russia for the States.

Fly

Strange as it may sound, flies are often used in tattoo art to represent adaptability, persistence, and transformation. They can also represent the ability to multiply ventures, prosperity and endeavors and a fast rate. In short, flies are meant to represent adaptable nature and luck - something Boris figured he'd need both of considering how he was uprooting his entire life.

Coffin

Coffins are an interesting symbol for tattoos as they have multiple meanings. For some, they serve as a reminder of death. In prison culture, coffins are often a symbol that someone is dangerous, has murdered, and will murder. For others, coffins can be a symbol against murder. Still others use it as a representation of the fact that, in prison, one's entire identity is effectively stripped away and killed. For Boris, the coffin represents the fact that while he was incarcerated, it felt like the man he was died.

Fishhook

Yet another common tattoo received by many, a fishhook symbolizes faith, prosperity, strength, and determination. Like several other tattoos Boris has, the fishhook was something of a charm he got in hopes that it would mean his transition to America would be smooth and prosperous.

Razor Blade

Razor blades are another common tattoo with multiple meanings. Depending on the shape of the tattoo the meaning can be changed. Common meanings include:

Tenacity and Strength: It represents inner strength and tenacity and symbolizes the strength and fortitude to overcome obstacles. The blade’s sharpness symbolizes perseverance.

Transformation & transition: This Razor symbolizes transition, discarding the old and welcoming the new. It indicates the capacity to sever bad influences, habits, or attachments to evolve and start again.

Precision and Detail: They are are known for their accuracy. It emphasizes the necessity for the deliberate and precise activity to obtain desired results.

Paradoxical Nature: It reminds us that certain things in life are both tempting and dangerous, needing careful balance

Tragically, the razor blade can also be a symbol of self-harm and self-destruction, and the recovery process of such habits. In Boris' case, the razor blade is a bittersweet reminder of one of the lowest points in his life, in which he felt so desperate, trapped, and broken that he turned to self-harm and self-destruction to try and cope with his feelings.

LEFT ARM:

Spider

Spiders are incredibly common motifs in prison tattoos. Black widows are the most common, often representing that the person is a killer. Spiders on webs are often used to communicate to others that a person has been "trapped in the [prison] system." The spider crawling on the right shoulder is indicative of a thief. If the spider is crawling up the shoulder, the thief is still active. If the spider is crawling down, this means the thief is done with the criminal life. In Boris' case, he received the spider on his right shoulder facing downward to represent that he wanted to be done with the criminal life once he moved. Unfortunately, life had other plans.

12 Tally Marks

Tally marks can have a variety of different meanings. For prisoners or soldiers, they are often tattooed as a way of showing how many lives they have taken. In Boris’ case, the 12 tally marks represent the number of lives he took during his brief time as a soldier. However, they are not a sign of pride. They are a reminder of the guilt he felt and the penance he continues to pay for killing them.

Cathedral

Cathedrals, or Kremlins, represent time spent incarcerated and are iconic Russian prison tattoos. The more domes an inmate’s church has indicates the number of sentences or years they have served over their lifetime. These tattoos can be found anywhere on the body. In Boris' case, his tattoo contains five domes which correlates to the five years he spent incarcerated.

[so-very-sedated]

hello, I’m Theia (pronounced THey-Ah)

this is kinda a vent blog, kinda a way to keep track of things, the TWS for everything is at the bottom of the post

I have:

- delusions, I am able to double book-keep and thats what helps me stay calm, though sometimes I might post about a new or past delusion as if it were actually happening/had actually happened

- intrusive thoughts, they get very violent and disgusting, TWS at the end

- depression, I’m medicated (heavily) but I still get the seasonal blues, and honestly even being sedated doesn’t really curb it at times

- suicidal thoughts, came 2-for-1 with the depression, I try to just ignore them usually but may keep track of them via posts on this blog

- autism, but I post about that a lot on my main so it probably won’t get mentioned here much (the sensory issues will though)

TWS FOR THIS BLOG: suicide, suicide ideation, self harm, delusions, unreality, medications, rape, violence, blood, gore, incest, pedophilia, abuse, guns, bugs, vomit, religion, christianity, (more to be added)

[sylvanfreckles]

@whumptober-archive

Day Twenty-Six: You Look Awful

Summary

Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't sleep. Don't panic.

Dorian has gone missing. Cyrus, Opal, and Dariax are looking for him, but their leads are running thin and they may be running out of time. The only clue they have is "three miles east and two feet down".

[peachpopfizz]

there is a big ass fucking COCKROACH (or palmetto bug my grandma says its a palmetto bug but i do not BELIEVE her that thing is TOO BIG and its colorization is TOO off for it to be a palmetto bug) SOMEWHERE in my house bc we were unable to catch it when it went under a table in MY DESIGNATED AREA n got REAL FUCKIN COMFY so now i have to sleep LIVING IN FEAR OF WHAT COMES TOMORROW (<< possibility of me seeing bug)