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Cw Vomit - Blog Posts
Oh I just had an evil thought about the Ghoul AU
Belos uses food as a main manipulation tactic for keeping Hunter "efficient and successful" on his missions. It has not been revealed where that meat comes from (if I'm not missing or forgetting anything).
I would totally believe that since petrification is admittedly rarely done if at all in the present day, Belos would feed him the meat of prisoners. Maybe he would amputate them and use those removed limbs to simultaneously feed Hunter less and still keep the meat fresh---objectively, it's being efficient with resources and punishing him for underperforming.
How fucked up would it be if (assuming that the ingredients required to create Grimwalkers are reusable and that the process is worth the time investment) Belos feeds him other Grimwalkers. What if he had tried it previously with the bodies of failed specimens? Would they have been able to tell the difference?
Sorry for the ramble, I just woke up from a nap and had a brrrrrr brain moment
Correct for the most part! The Emperor coven is already known to have secret petrifications of Wild witches so it would make sense for some of them to be executed in different ways for reasons. I don’t think he’d be bother to have limbs amputated, rather why not just kill them if he’s already fine with doing that.
Though the idea of “reformed” wild witches(aka those forced into covens) leaving the conformatorium with missing limbs and being told that’s just punishment is all sorts of dystopian. Though, I always like the idea that the most wild of witches would just “disappear” and the rest, lesser ones would be forced into covens or kept imprisoned. They all get arrested but have different fates depending on severity of their crimes.
After Hunter carvings arise, Belos has a select few witches hanged and taken to the morgue where they could be butchered by him or Hunter (a form of punishment) for food privately.
I always saw Grimwalkers being a limited product due to having very limited sources. I mean there aren’t many palistorm trees, selkidomous are rare, stonesleeper lungs where already limited at the start and might degrade over time, and the galdorstones are difficult to obtain. Realistically, I think Belos could only have a max of two grimwalkers at a time since he’s reusing parts.
Also the horror that Hunter’s body parts had been reused multiple times for past Golden Guards is too horrific to pass up. I think Belos harvests the corpses for these parts after killing them, all besides the bone since that’s too tedious for what it’s worth. So as much as he would like to make Hunter cannibalize other grimwalkers for experiments, he can’t do that unfortunately without further degrading a limited source.
(I think he would have had more sources in the past where he would have been able to do experiments on the grimwalkers until these materials eventually became unusable and he had to be more cautious on what he used his remaining materials on, much to his dismay)
So the best he could do is make Hunter eat the bones. Yes our boy eats bones, plenty of carnivorous animals do and it’s a good source of calcium. Though he can’t survive off them, thats an incredibly deficient diet. Since Hunter is actually consuming something that’s the same species as him, this is genuine cannibalism and it makes him incredibly sick.
Hunter is unaware of this of course, assuming it’s some random witch bone that tastes weirdly gross and is also a bit aged for his liking(not like he has the option to be picky)
Like I said, it makes him sick. Like he’s been poisoned sick. Through these are just bones and who’s to say that Belos doesn’t have grimwalker organs and flesh, preserved somewhere in storage. Might explore that possibility in the future.
Watching and Dreaming, Late Redemption AU
I decided to redo this comic not because I don’t like it but because I believe could do better on the art and story telling of this AU now that I have a better grasp of what I want.
Context, this is a late redemption au of Hunter where certain canon events don’t happen. This is shortly after Belos death. Hunter has his possession scars because it played out in a much different way. Sadly this also means very slow burn pittwins siblings.
Once I have a few more posts a master list will be made in timeline order, so like separate tides to post-canon. Though the story will be nonlinear :3
Next part (coming soon)
CW Mentions of physical abuse and vomit
…
Based off this post of an Au where Hunter stays with Belos until the day of Unity
These sketches are based on the finale where Hunter was the one to stay with the collector instead.
1st sketch “Don’t act like you care” is Hunter denying help per usual. This context is after Luz kills Belos and try’s to speak to Hunter.
2st “Get away from me” Hunter vomiting after being possessed. The others try to to approach him but he shoots down all attempts
3rd “I’m so sorry!I didn’t realize threatening to hit you was bad! I just wanted to play! I must be bad like Belos since he hit you all the time! “…It’s fine…” The collector apologizing to Hunter for his treatment during the game. The collector never hit Hunter but he did threaten to similar to the way he threatened people in canon, except with physical violence. Repeat, they never actually hit Hunter. The collector witness quite a bit of the abuse that Hunter went through in the hands of Belos. Hunter says it’s fine but he’s more concerned by the group of people watching (Luz, King, Eda, Amity, Gus, and Willow
4th, just a grumpy little Hunter
love ur username as a person who’s been on zoloft withdrawal twice
hhehehe i remember trying to quit zoloft cold-turkey and i wouldn't stop vomiting for a month straight, never again 🙏
wouldn't recommend not listening to your psychiatrist but whatever the purpose of trying to quit zoloft was, it kinda worked, in a different way. i was on a pretty high dose of several meds, quitting everything means they have to start with smaller dosage again, so cheaper meds and multiple months backward in recovery 👍
Getting car sick as an adult without a license is so fucking humbling.
How am I deadass over here being like "I can work with most things, but my commute can't be more than 30 mins by bus or I'll vomit"
Fallen Down into Deaths Embrace.
Okay,,,,so I finally cracked and threw in my towel by writing a Reaper Sans x reader fic for the first time. For context, reader isn't a normal person and is in a place similar to the void, which explains some things within the snippet of a writing I've been dabbling in. Anything written in () btw is for you to understand what's being said.
CW: light descriptions of vomiting, injury, blood, and of the sorts. It's not super descriptive, but I still wanted to plant it here. Stay safe loves
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Beyond the blistering anguish, you realized something. Maybe it was the smell of scorched cloth and bones, or the rough earth beneath your crumpled body hurting your delicate skin. But, it finally dawned on you at that moment that you were truly and utterly alone.
Where did everything go wrong?
This new sensation felt foreign to you, it felt…unwelcoming. How could this have happened to you? It seemed like your chest would burst, your tongue heavy as vomit tickled the back of your throat. You didn’t think that your very bones would make you tremble, the feeling of being hot and cold all at once disorienting.
It felt overwhelming and nauseating to even think, let alone understand everything that happened to you. It felt like even the smallest twitch from your muscles would send you wanting to sob again. That the smallest of movements would lead you into excruciating pain. But, you had nothing to give, not anymore. Your throat felt raw and scratched, struggling to inhale the ash infecting your skin as you helplessly submitted to a coughing fit.
Saliva dribbled down your chin as your body curled in as much as it could. Your environment did not show you any mercy as you clawed at your sides. You screwed your eyes shut, ash fluttering near your eyelashes as you fought against it from nestling itself in your eyes. This sucked.
Why did you do it? It felt like those rings around the back of your head mocked you, your skull ringing. This sight before you, as blurred as it was, was wrong. It was wrong, it was wrong, it was wrong. Your body doesn’t look like this. Not this pathetic sight, no. But you didn’t even need to open your eyes to know.
You could already picture the way you wanted to ruin the ones that caused your disheveled state, as shameful as it was. This brought a laugh out of you, but not a pleasant one. It died quickly as you regretted it, coughing once again as you swore that blood was now on your hand.
Would those Gods laugh at you now? Would the sight of you bring a good chuckle or hysterical fit with them? Or a pity party since they ruined your life. Maybe that was all you were good for now. You were no longer worth much of anything, anymore. A forgotten memory now.
Your thoughts were abruptly cut off, however, by the screams clawing past that ringing and now finally echoing behind your eyes as you internally screamed. Oh, yes, that's right. There weren't the only ones you loved around to help you now. What embraced you instead was the dented crater your body made and the scent of burnt vomit stimulating your senses.
It was once so bright, where did that warmth and light go? You already knew the answer, your bloody and dusted clothes feeling so tattered beneath the cracks of your fingers. You didn’t have the pleasure of knowing what would happen to you for everything that happened. So when it eventually crashed in your face, you felt bitter and regretful. You were too blinded by rage, and your temper got the better of you.
Well, that sure helped you in the long run, didn’t it?
Your temper sure wasn’t helping your flooded migraine either. If you thought any longer it felt like you would combust. If only you could do something about it. If only you weren’t stuck here, punished for the sins you’ve committed. If only you were given a swift erase. The sense of dread built inside of you only worsened as the waves of hatred and wrath overwhelmed you.
You would have mistaken them as your own, but you knew that your rage wasn’t the same as this. Or it shouldn't be, at least. You knew better, the urge to sob from everything being too much since you knew that this anger was in fact only yours. If being stuck in this black emptiness was what you were going to endure now, you shifted your thoughts to focus on that fact. Would the loneliness torment you, or your grief?
You felt…determined to not let what happened to you occur again. Not like you would have the chance to, anyways, as you were stuck down here. You couldn’t even do much down here, let alone understand what would happen to you.
Nothing can protect you down here now, except for yourself. Lord only knows if you’ll have the chance to build your strength back up, though. It was impossible to know, maybe you’d endure the worst of the worst before disintegrating into nothing.
As if your mind was reeled in by a fish hook, the smell of…something sweet invites itself into your senses. It was a strong contrast to your environment, and it only made you feel dizzier as you struggled to look up. Whatever it was, you tried not to curse under your breath.
Your body stiffened, gagging slightly as you winced from the attempt to move. Managing a shuddering breath, you squeezed your eyes shut. You could already guess that you would be face to face with something like this inevitably, but you didn’t think that it would be so soon. If you had some strength to you, at least you would’ve had a chance to fight.
How cruel the Gods were, to not even spare you peace of mind. You heard the sound of light steps hitting gravel as they approached, the smell only becoming stronger the closer they neared. At least this seemed to overwhelm your pain, if only the slightest. If this soul had even the most minor sense of mercy, maybe you could go painlessly.
Something seemed to graze against your cheek, cold yet smooth like porcelain.
Was that... You felt the thumb of their hand rub your cheek hesitantly as if testing your reaction. You only winced in response, your eyes forcing themselves to stay shut. Almost tenderly, another hand scooped to the other side of your face as they lifted your head.
You attempted to open your eyes finally, your breath quickening. They soon widened, however, as you stared at the figure before you. He was beautifully terrifying, that was the only way you could describe him. With wide sockets and gentle eyelights that felt so comforting in this horrid place, it was hard to look away. It was funny really, seeing as he looked just like a skeleton. You should've questioned your descriptions, if you could even place why his gaze felt so comforting in the first place.
His sockets were pronounced with a light blue eyeliner, eyelights a very faint white of a creamy pearl. There was silver jewelry on his phalanges as they clinked together, Even if you could hardly make out anything about his outfit, you could see the fine clothing fitting his frame perfectly of black robes and silk. Yet, you found yourself struggling to find the finer details as his gloved hands moved your head to look at him.
Even if he was crouched down before you, now taking in your state, it was obvious he was much taller when standing. Almost inhumanly tall, though that wasn’t saying much. You already knew where you were, but this didn't ease the ball of fear still dwelling inside your chest. His eyes were studying you, silent. You didn't care though not when your eyes locked with what was behind him. Wings, so soft and white, a harsh contrast. There had to at least be six of them, folded only partially before they stretched out wide around you.
You could hardly muster a word before your body betrayed you, your body buffering as it once more released another coughing hazard in his direction. He stiffened, if only slightly as he tilted his head up to avoid spit hitting his face. He set you back down, sliding you back on the ground with minor struggle as he pulled away. "....u're…ot…supposed…be…ere…re you?” (You're not supposed to be here, are you?)
Tears stung your eyes and you only slightly felt confused as he started unclipping part of his robes. His movements were languid, yet precise as he finally released a soft sigh at the extra layer of clothing no longer restricting his movements. He seemed to be muttering something, but you were too disoriented to understand him.
His shoulders slacked as you felt a weight press into you. His coat instantly looked dirtier, blood and dirt tainting it as you took fistfuls of the coat close. It instantly brought a sense of comfort, and you pulled it closer to you without much thought. You instantly were enveloped with the smell of rain and something akin to fresh earth.
He seemed content with himself as he started tucking the coat around you. You didn’t like to admit it, but now that you felt less exposed with the coat over you, you didn’t seem to pay much attention to what he was doing. You could only do so much as your face buried itself in the softness and warmth of the polyester under your cracked fingers.
You tried to make out what he was muttering, but he seemed to have stopped as you suddenly felt something firm wrap securely around your body. You could hardly struggle, let alone understand that he was now lifting you into his arms.
He softly hushed your croaks of complaint, your vision slowly growing fuzzy around the edges of your sight. There seemed to now be gentleness in his eyes as he pressed you closer to his chest. One arm was wrapped underneath you, the other looped over as his hand rested on your shoulder as he started to stand.
Almost immediately, your hands moved forward as you pathetically tried to move away from him. Even as he held you, your hand moved to his chest and pushed as you bit down on your tongue. It was pointless, though. He hardly budged, only squeezing you closer to him as his voice reached your ears. He looked at you almost sympathetically, but he stood either way.
“Shh….ts…ay….keep-...afe,” (Shh, it's okay, I'll keep you safe.)
Now that he was standing, he swiftly moved the coat over you and started to move forward. It was a strange feeling, his tall stature almost alarming as your eyes looked down. He had to be at least 7-8 feet tall, and his body seemed to float as he moved quickly as he kept speaking. Something something something or whatever, it wasn't your top priority at the moment though.
You had given up fighting, your body going limp as you tried to hold onto whatever you had left of your consciousness. He felt warm pressed against you, one arm moving over you comfortingly as he rubbed your body. It wasn't in any way doing much for you nonetheless, only feeling numb from the previous pain inflicted on you. After trying to grab at the slipping thoughts in your mind, you tried your best to speak.
Well, as best as you could anyway. The ringing in your ears refused to leave you alone as you barely felt your throat speak. You must have said something because he immediately looked down, tilting his head slightly. He faltered, if only for a moment before he stopped walking altogether. You must have spoken loudly enough though, which was something.
“...oul…ctured…ease….eep,” (your soul looks fractured, please get some sleep) It hurt, it really did. You were gasping to regain your breath, though it feels like every breath you took set your ribs on fire. Your mind was going blank, so you blink again, hearing other noises but not currently making sense of any of them. You wince a little as he speaks again. It feels uncomfortable and weird in his hold, but you're really in no condition nor do you have the will to fight it.
Stars above, you're really tired.
The fuzziness in your vision grew as your eyes fluttered shut. He did feel…nice, comforting to some extent. You had sunken more into the coat wrapped around you and felt lightheaded as you could hear your raspy breath over the faint sounds of what seemed to be a soft hush that mimicked actual speaking. And finally, you let your body succumb to sleep. What else could you do, anyway?
You poor thing, but don't fret. Reaper will make sure to take care of you, little dove.
explaining the train of thought that got me to this would take way too much backstory but basically I had an idea and then I wrote it. I rewatched Scream recently so maybe that helps lol
cw: death (not of a canon character), mentions of blood and vomit
-----
The call comes in at a little after 2 AM, and he almost doesn’t answer because he’s busy.
But Leo almost never calls him, and it’s a singular enough occurrence that he picks up the phone and hits the button.
“Hello, you are conversing with Donatello,” he greets. “Make it quick, Nardo, I’m elbow deep in the tank’s engine.”
On the other end of the line, Leo is silent. Or, mostly silent; Donnie can hear him breathing, a little too loud, a little too fast.
Suddenly, he’s on high alert. He sits back from the tank, speaking more urgently into the phone, “Leo?”
There’s another second of breathing, and then, finally, in a voice that is too high and panicked to be his normal joking tone, he says, “Hey, remember when I sent you that meme about siblings who will beat the crap out of each other one minute and hide a body for each other the next, and I said, “us,” and you gave it a heart?”
Donnie blinks. Processes that string of words.
“I think I recall it,” he says.
“Well,” says Leo. “I need to know if that’s really us.”
Donnie stands up and keys in the command to swap battleshells to the jetpack.
“Stay where you are,” he says. “I’m on my way.”
-----
The body is male. Early twenties. About six two or six three. Caucasian. Wearing some ghoulish mask like the serial killer in a bad teen slasher.
Actually, now that Donnie thinks about it, there’s been stuff on the news lately. About a guy who likes to knife up co-eds. And Leo’s wearing his biggest, baggiest hoodie, and jeans, and in a dark alley like this it would be easy to mistake him for a normal, non-mutated human teen.
The puzzle pieces are all laid out for Donnie, but the picture it paints is pretty unbelievable.
Then again, he’s a mutant turtle who grew up in a sewer and recently fended off an alien invasion. His bar for believable is pretty low.
He takes in the body, slashed across the chest, ridiculous getup soaked in blood. Then he turns to look at Leo, curled around his knees against the wall. There’s blood all over him, too, but Donnie feels pretty confident that most of it is not his own. There’s a puddle of vomit nearby, and a dagger, and a katana, cast aside.
Leo raises his eyes to meet Donnie’s. “I didn’t know he was human.”
Donnie looks back at the body, and at the mask. Connects it to the dagger, which definitely isn’t Leo’s.
“Seems like he was a great guy,” Donnie says.
“He stabbed my arm.”
“I meant it sarcastically.”
Leo laughs, high and reedy. Then he leans over and vomits again.
Donnie can’t help but curl his snout at that one. He looks away and waits for Leo to finish.
There’s a spit, then a sniff, then Leo says, “He stabbed my arm and I turned around and saw the mask.”
Ah yes, that. It’s pink and has a serrated smile. Little rubbery bits of slime and ooze. These things got popular after the invasion - they aren’t anywhere near the real thing, but in a dark alley, under attack, alone, when Leo had…
The puzzle pieces are there. Donnie doesn’t really need an explanation to put it together.
Actually, scratch that: he does need an explanation for one thing.
“Why are you so upset about this?” He looks back at Leo. “You took out a serial killer. Or a wannabe serial killer. At the very least a stabber.”
“I didn’t mean to kill him,” says Leo immediately. A little pleading. “I didn’t think that would… I didn’t know he was human.”
“He attacked you.”
“I could have disarmed him. I could have trapped him and let the police deal with him.”
“He came up behind you in this creepy mask and stabbed your arm.”
“He didn’t stand a chance against me,” says Leo, and it’s not swaggering and not boastful, but horrified. “It was like tearing paper, Dee. It was so easy.”
Donnie leaves the body to kneel in front of his brother. He puts his hands on his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye to make sure he listens.
“He attacked you, Nardo. He wanted to kill you. He made the wrong choice. Not you.”
Leo looks down, at the blood on his hoodie, and Donnie squeezes his shoulders until they lock eyes again.
“He made the wrong choice,” Donnie repeats emphatically.
Leo sighs, like he’s giving in, and a rueful smile grows on his face. “Thanks, hermano. But I don’t think the EPF is gonna see it that way.”
Ah yes, the good old United States government, and their hilariously poorly titled Earth Protection Force. Since the invasion, their existence had become known to the EPF, and they’ve been in an unspoken truce ever since. A “live and let live” holding pattern.
Unfortunately, Donnie has to admit Leo is right on this one: that this man is likely and most probably a serial killer won’t matter to the EPF. Killing any human crosses a line they won’t tolerate.
And so, there is only one solution here. The one Leo proposed when he first called.
Donnie is going to help him hide a body.
…Which means he is going to have to touch it.
Leo frowns at him. “Uh, Dee, what’s the yarf-face for?”
“I just realized how gross this is going to be.”
Leo laughs again, more than a little hysterical, and lets his head fall against Donnie’s plastron, the giggles shaking his shoulders under Donnie’s hands.
“That wasn’t a joke,” Donnie insists. Leo just laughs even harder.
Donnie scowls, even as he pulls Leo closer. “That meme really is us. I want to beat the crap out of you right now.”
Leo howls with laughter. Except it sounds a little more like sobbing now. Donnie gathers him up and holds him until he’s better again.
-----
Across the Hudson, the sky is turning pink. Donnie stands with Leo, watching the water that the body disappeared under.
They’ve already scrubbed the alley clean of any blood traces - his and Leo’s. He also had his drones bring gloves with the cleaning supplies, so they didn’t leave any fingerprints. At least Leo had the sense not to touch anything. And it’s not like the government has their prints on file, anyway. Donnie’s checked.
There wasn’t anything they could really do to hide the massive laceration that led to the body’s death. Short of melting it in acid, but both of them had dismissed that idea as soon as Donnie raised it. Despite what Donnie thinks of himself, he isn’t actually a stone cold disposer of bodies. The idea of melting it was too gross to think about.
Besides, it doesn’t matter if the body gets found, as long as it doesn’t get traced back to them. And Donnie doesn’t see any reason it should.
He’s already hacked any security cameras near the scene and made sure Leo doesn’t show up on any of them. Leo’s a good enough ninja to avoid that sort of thing, anyway, not that Donnie will admit it out loud. The crabs and fish will take care of the flesh and the katana’s mark. Leo destroyed the weapon itself in a bright blue explosion of ninpo.
“It’s kind of a bummer,” says Leo after a minute, “that the murders will go unsolved.”
“No, they won’t.” Donnie pulls out a phone, holding it carefully with his gloves. “He helpfully took trophy photos.”
Leo’s eyes go wide. “Dude, did you fish around in his pockets?”
Donnie can’t help but curl his lips. “Ugh, don’t remind me. It was a very unpleasant experience and I don’t want to repeat it.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Find where he lived and leave it there.” Donnie shrugs. “His body will turn up, or he’ll get reported missing. The cops will find it and everything will be wrapped up in a neat little bow.”
“Huh. Guess that takes care of that.” A pause. Leo shuffles a bit next to him. “You’re… really calm about this.”
Is he? Since the moment he got that phone call, he entered Fix It mode. He hasn’t really thought of anything else since.
“I don’t know if I will be later,” he admits.
“I’ll be there, if you’re not.”
Donnie hums an acknowledgement. There’s a weight against his arm, Leo leaning into him.
“Thanks, Dee,” he says.
“You’d do the same for me,” Donnie replies.
“Yeah,” Leo agrees. Simple as that.