#7daysofbrutality

[papabigtoes]

Muschty Monday’s Belated Fleesh Frideey

wanted to draw some fleshy boys based on a dope MTL x Project Zomboid rp with @secret-tacos !

[doomstxr]

hehehe tumblr doesn’t know about my ghost robot knubbler AU… YET 😈 (I’ve only ever posted it on insta I think BUUT I LOVE ITTTT)

[agentkaz]

and now for the last day of the seven days of brutality, we have sloppy slasher saturday special supreme! i got silly with it. i always get silly with it.

it was fun to do some brutal-ish crayonklok stuff! see you in the next one maybe!

[deada55]

Fledgeling

SEVEN DAYS OF BRUTALITY 2025

3/9 Sacrificial Sunday

WOOOO I FUCKING LOVE EVENTS!!!! Y’all know I got a thing for Preklok. Here’s Nathan doing something mighty big. No beta. Raw dog.

tws/cws: nothing? I think we’re good.

The truck started up without stalling this time. Dad had pulled Mom's elbow until she came away from the window, but knowing she wasn't watching made him want to cut the engine and go back to bed for another couple years, until something changed in the background and he woke up feeling like an adult. But, by the time he realized, he'd already put it in reverse, and slowly backed out the driveway and onto the street.

The sun turned its back on him and he drove into the yellow sky until he hit a McDonalds and watched the building's shadow fade into the darkness to the tune of three quarter pounders, a large fry, and a Hi-C.

And he could turn back. Really, he should have, but TV families didn't have an adult kid without a job drinking in his room all day, and Nathan felt obligated to save a little face, maybe more than he actually wanted to be "independent" or whatever. If they weren't embarrassed now, they would be soon, a truth that suffocated him silent as long as he could remember. Hopefully, he could avoid having to meet that day by being absent, just like school.

The tape deck had a mixtape of some black metal something recorded in Houston by Mark, a friend of a friend, in exchange for a pitcher of Budweiser. Nathan ejected it and plopped in the Hank Williams Jr. cassette his dad had forgotten about as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed east into the darkness like a child under their mother's arm. He double parked behind a car he recognized, spat at the weathered asphalt parking lot, and went inside through the back way to dodge having to pay cover.

He wasn't with anyone playing tonight, but the old bar, once a strip club, was packed with the usual crowd for a group with two basses and one guitar named BEEST (the first letters of everyone's name. How cute) that sounded better than the sales pitch would leave you to believe. In a booth were two of the people living in the house Nathan was told he'd have a room in as long as he could cough up $350 (brought to you by Mom's purse and forgotten birthday money from a DisneyWorld branded piggy bank) and two rounds of shots and three pitchers later, Nathan gave one of the guys a ride back to the house, where a third roommate was having a house show. Nathan "pulled the trigger" behind a rhododendron so he could stand up straight and stood against the wall by the amp to wait for the urge to get back in the car and actually go home to pass. That's it. That's all he could do.

Jason, who had the house in his name, sided up to him while the band was taking a break.

"Hey! All set for next week? Tell me where to be and I'll help you move stuff, but not Friday because I'm going with Chelsea to Fort Lauderdale and probably not Saturday, either, and-" no any reasonable day that week because Jason was either working, working his side job, at a show, or opening a show with his high school friend with their industrial act. It wasn't that he was a flake, but that he'd rather be anywhere else but with the other people in the house, or the rest of the metal scene. The important part, which Nathan was blessed enough to catch on to the first time was,

"So Rob is still here?"

"Yeah, he's not moving out for another week. He talked about today, but I don't know. Guess something came up. His room isn't too bad, so I think you can come in right after him... of course, if you can pay the rent for that extra week. I don't want to be like that, but y'know."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. So... yeah. I called you Monday, but it went to a payphone."

"Oh." He knew he had forgotten to be somewhere. "Weird." But, for all Jason knew, Nathan wasn't living with his parents, and he wasn't nineteen, either. Nobody asked, but people knowing would just complicate things. Being known meant being questioned, and Nathan couldn't depend on having the answer. He used the BP station payphone for most major business, at least until he was supposed to move in... in another week. Jason folded back into the milieu of the gathering.

When he left the party, it was almost two. He drove someone's girlfriend and her drunk sister home and let them throw up out the door at a stoplight, and pulled into their driveway with his lights off to be given a rushed "thank you" and a show of two girls missing the step and flopping out of his truck into their driveway. Once he could depend on not running them over, he backed out and watched their pale forms fling themselves to and fro on their sideways, stumbling sojourn to the front step.

He drove until he was too tired to keep from swerving and pulled into a Wal-Mart parking lot, stars drowned out by floodlights. He kept a dark blanket jammed behind the seats for this very reason and tucked himself in under the smell of a night where he clearly curled up before changing his clothes. Coping with the sourness of aged puke that gave him very necessary shielding from the lights was so distracting that he couldn't think about turning back, unlocking the doors, and going back to bed like nothing happened, and acting so pissed off the next day that neither of his parents would try to talk to him about it. He carried his own weight, slept in his own disgusting blanket, and checked his glovebox for the money only to find that he had the $350, but needed another $80 at least for the week of rent. Fuck. He fell asleep trying to make a plan to find it.

[goteammonarch]

7 Days of Brutality

Day 7: Keep The Party Goin'!

Album release party! Dick is drunk already and there's no way they're getting Charles to wear a party hat :)

[procrazedfan]

Sacrifice

Adorned in his ceremonial garb, the silver-haired Senator stared up at the circular magnet that hovered above him. Operation Falconback, the combined effort of Salacionic’s resources, and the Tribunal’s influence, was truly a magnificent testimony to the majesty of his beloved master.  

And he was there to bear witness this momentous occasion.

“Behold! The Great Reuniting!”

He watched the electromagnetic rings hovering over the head of the Half Man’s decaying body spin faster. 

The lives of the Beast Daughters, his political followers, Hell, the entire planet, were all fitting gifts for the planet’s new God.

He smiled wider as the electromagnetic fields combined with the natural magic of the Beast Daughters lifted the Half Man afloat.

The now active Doomstar burned, its ultraviolet light flickering as a swirling storm grew on its surface.

“The Doomstar’s portal has opened!” he announced to the rest of the cult with glee, watching four skeletal horseback riders, flying out of the gateway between the Ether and this dimension, "...summoning the four souls to cascade forth and fuse into the Half Man, making him whole again!” 

Stampingston still couldn’t believe the miracle he was witnessing. The Great Reuniting would be the beginning of the New World Order. Once his Master had become whole, the world will be reshaped into His glorious image!  And he got to witness this momentous occasion first hand. 

“It’s happening!” he whispered, grounding himself to the present moment as his levitating master swallowed two balls of effervescent light.

A third soul, circling around the magnet, either misdirected or repelled by one of the rings, made contact with staff running the machine, as well as a few spectators behind Stampingston.

But as much as they screamed, ran, or exploded into flame, Stampingston stood stock still.

He recalled a news article once from a naysaying journalist that accused him of fearing death. That men like him would find himself trembling at the thought of mortality. A final ending. 

He grinned manically as he opened his arms to embrace the moment. 

What fools they were. 

Even if he wasn’t bestowed with the gift of eternal life,  he was watching the end to mortality right in front of his very eyes.

“It’s happening!” he repeated, feeling the heat of the flames below his melting shoes. 

He lifted his eyes to gaze upon the glory of his master’s transformation, welcoming his demise with arms still open.

If his sacrificed flesh served to help his God succeed in reshaping the planet, he would comply both joyfully and without fear. 

Stampingston shouted it one last time, loud enough to echo across the heavens, as his organs bubbled underneath his skin. 

“IT’S HAPPENING!”

[pan-flute-skeleton]

Ravenous Rapture

Flesh Frenzy Friday and I'm back to writing. Just a short thing that came to mind when I saw the 7 Days of Brutality prompt list. What a perfect way to highlight the day than with a religious cult colony in the depths of Norway! Either way it's good to be back.

Some time in the late 90s

Three harsh winters in a row. Their preparations always fell short. It did not matter how early or how vigilant his people were, their rations would run out before the thaw. The strongest would have to wait for the ground to warm up in order to bury the skinny dead. All turned to Aslaug for guidance, for salvation. The man was drunk on power, which might have explained his suggestion. To consume the weakest of the herd was a tough command, but by the third year, it was as simple as breath. For Aslaug’s colony knew, to disobey his word would mean certain death and damnation. And so, the Narrowing remained despite the changing climate in the fourth year.

Outside the main hall, the colony gathered with Aslaug, Anja and young Toki standing in the center. The bare trees around them carried the howling wind, the only sound louder than their stomachs. Even the leader’s family was not immune from the lack of resources. And Aslaug needed his heir to thrive.

“Brothers and sisters,” Aslaug bellowed, “bring forth the failures.” The crowd clamored and pushed five individuals into the clearing.

Three men and two women all varying ages, all varying uses and all under performing. Since the start of the year, each colonist had been scrutinizing their neighbor, documenting however they could all the faults and shortcomings to present to Aslaug and his council. Anything to save themselves from the Narrowing. Friends turned on friends, family turned on family, until the selection was made. These few were kept isolated with nothing to do except make their final peace with God.

“You lot have proven to be a disappointment to this prosperous colony,” Aslaug continued, “As such, your bodies will be sacrificed for the greater good. We must persist through this winter.”

“Please!” One of the men pleaded, “we’re sorry. We wish to serve you, my lord. Please don’t do this. Some of us have children.”

“Those children will remember you as pathetic, weak minded leeches!” Toki kept his eyes on the ground and his arms wrapped around his shivering body despite how badly Anja wanted to hold his hand. The doubt in his mind was getting louder and louder by the day.

“My child will not!” one of the women defied, “She will remember me as someone who loved her.”

“And will she be thinking that when she is gnawing on your bones?” Aslaug asked with a sneer, “Our minds and hearts cannot function in hunger.” The woman settled back into the pile, defeated. “Anything else to say? Anything else to spit at your leader?”

The rest of the colony groaned at different volumes. Some with more energy moaning, ‘Feast! Feast!’ shrinking the circle at the same time. The starving people were ready to pounce, but it all hinged on Aslaug’s permission. Toki still could not look upon the Narrowing. It wasn’t until Aslaug gripped his son’s head and forcibly turned him to the pile. His old bones creaked and cracked, getting down to Toki’s level.

“You must be sssssstarving,” he whispered in Toki’s ear, “they’re fresh, they’re plentiful, they’re ready for you. Just think of all that meat. Better than any livestock. Eat, my heir, eat and begin the processsssss.” Drool dripped out of his agape mouth. His vision blurred in the periphery. The delicious meal in full clarity. The young boy bolted and lunged for the first person in his path. Little fangs sunk deeper than any predator into a forearm. The rest of the colony swarmed and fought for their share of the meat. The sound of ripping muscle won out against the screaming. Blood sprayed on everyone and everything. Living colonists struggled to chew and swallow the flesh of their brethren, but it truly was the only option. And as their bellies filled, they accepted the state of their lives.

“Beautiful, wouldn’t you say, wife?” he asked Anja. She said nothing and kept her gaze above the carnage. She wouldn’t even look at the handful of fingers Aslaug held out for her. He rescinded his offer and blissfully crunched on the extremities.

[papabigtoes]

Belateed Torture Toosdey

Murderface wanted to see if the prop spikes in his iron maiden were rlly metal and it turns out zoo wee mama they are metal spikes indeed!!1!