#trauma oc

[betinh3]

👼🏻Nostalgia and Trauma💀(new oc)

[imogenebuggy]

baby imogene!!!!!!! just a warmup

(My sona) (it/its)

(this is a child, do not be weird)

[aworldofhealers]

Tw: Reference of gore(?) and body horror(?)

Sometimes, I feel something that is under my skin.

I want to dig out of my body. I feel it. It's my bones. My bones want out. That wants to grow out of my skin.

My bones want to breathe.

[stmeatball]

To Be Held

probably should fluff up my account before I post, but here's an intro anyway: I'm stuffedmeatball, i'm a 30 year old who uses he/him pronouns. I recently got back into BL comic reading and began drawing again, which has lead me to drawing a lot of mxm dynamics often toxic. I'm on twt, bsky, pixiv and toyhouse. :) I try to post all my art over every platform!

These two got a lot going on but they're my babes and I love them. I'll be posting my 'older' art here until I'm caught up, but I'll try to serve you good Tumblr! These two are Morgan Scott and Tobias Foss. They're part of my zombie apocalypse concept. Morgan has some form of immunity leaving him unable to die (a classic head shot would do..please don't) and he ends up being experimented on in the same compound Tobias looks over. Here's the thing, neither of them know of each other. Tobias has no idea what the research team is doing. When he finds Morgan his whole world crumbles. On the other hand, when Morgan, now beaten, broken and delusional sees the light. It surrounds Tobias like a crown. His crowned messiah has come to save him

[tearsofsaturnn]

CHAPTER TWO

this story contains themes of trauma, manipulation, violence, blood and death. please read with care <3

training exercise

eight's arms were crossed as she watched ten girls throw knives at training dummies.

a few missed. some got the blade stuck in an inch deep. one girl threw a knife at the dummy's legs.

she sighed, dropped her arms, and stepped forward.

they all stopped, glancing over to her as she grabbed a thin knife off of eighteen.

in one quick and fluid motion, she threw the knife right at the dummy's head.

but for a second, she saw a real person.

saw how their eyes went wide and blood spilled out of the hole in their head.

"you have to flick your wrist more," she rasped. "don't hold the knife so tight."

they nodded, and tried again—taking the advice and getting better.

eight nodded in approval then moved back to her original spot.

number four taught her how to throw a knife properly.

she remembered how the brunette whispered and held her hand, gently showing eight what she had learned.

she was eight years old when she had her first kill.

fitting.

a year of training and she was deemed ready. though she wasn't strong enough to fully stab the blade through the man's chest.

he was tied to a chair, crying and begging. saying random names like she'd react.

rose, sarah, bethany, amelia.

she had to push the chair over and stomp on the knife to break through his sternum. to get the blade to pierce his heart.

it got easier as she got older and stronger. her aim became deadly.

she didn't need to look now—she just threw knives like she could control their collision course.

fourteen grumbled as she fumbled with a knife.

eight studied her for a moment, before she stepped in to help. she took the girl's hand and showed her how to hold it properly.

"thank you, eight." the young girl whispered.

eight nodded and placed a hand on her back as she stepped away.

the handler's eyes narrowed.

"keep an eye on eight after her mission tonight, if an error occurs, send her to the chamber." she whispered to a guard standing next to her. the man nodded, eyes dead and face covered.

eight glanced over her shoulder, seeing the handler watching the girls.

"three." eight snapped, voice quiet and cold.

her older sister glanced over, tilting her head.

"what?" three sighed dramatically.

"that's the target."

three blinked at eight, shaking her head slightly.

"yeah, i know. i'm watching." the redhead sighed, looking away, lowering her head slightly.

"why aren't you moving?" another voice grumbled.

eight tensed as she felt someone brush her side and crouch next to her.

she turned her head to meet ten's gaze. the brunette's cold brown eyes stared back at her.

"because, he's on the phone with his kids." three snapped. "let the guy get a goodbye."

"we didn't get a goodbye." ten muttered.

three's brows furrowed and she shot her a glare.

eight kept her eyes forward. 

let her sisters argue in whispers and mean looks. bickering back and forth, ignoring the mission.

she slowly reached for a knife on her belt—just as the man smiled, still nodding along, phone to his ear.

"alright, yeah—mhm, goodnight honey—"

fwipp.

the second he hung up his phone a blade lodged itself in the centre of his throat.

he choked and gasped, blood spraying on his shirt and the concrete.

he stumbled, shaking hands clawing at his neck, covered in his own blood before he collapsed.

"ooft." ten smirked, nudging her shoulder.

"you never miss, eight."

three sighed.

eight met her gaze and then looked down.

"i'll give you credit." eight mumbled.

"don't." three sighed again. "the handler's already annoyed with me. 's fine, i'll deal with the punishment."

back then, the girls and boys were kept separate during missions.

back then most of her sisters were alive.

she met the handler's gaze.

eight swallowed thickly and nodded.

the handler just stared at her—no expression or emotion in her eyes. then turned away and left her to keep training.

she didn't know how long she stood there for.

until the teens were done. until a few boys came into practice.

"hey, e."

she glanced over on pure instinct—saw five waltz in.

messy brown curls. green eyes. freckled skin. sharp jaw and cheekbones. tall and yet not as broad as his brothers.

smaller somehow. leaner.

the boys didn't call her eight.

they still had their whole class, so they gave her nickname.

it was a lot worse when all the girls were alive, trying to figure out who was needed, if it was a boy or a girl.

she didn't reply, just looked away as he cracked his knuckles.

"how's that back? sore from carrying the new class?" he teased, rolling shoulders, cracking his neck.

he moved to grab a knife, she tensed in preparation.

she knew this game by now.

five turned to face her again.

toyed with the knife then met her gaze.

his lips twisted into a smirk. he tilted his head—like he was studying her.

five threw the knife directly at eight.

she leaned to the side, reached out and caught it.

typical.

eight stared him down. then tossed the knife at the targets lined on the walls.

he didn't flinch. just smiled lazily.

"bullseye." he commented, raising his brows. "y'never miss, e."

she looked away, turned on her heels and left the room.

on her way down the hall, a guard notified her she had a new mission.

good. she needed it.

before her mission, she found herself in the bathroom.

adding black eyeliner to her waterline. she smudged some around her eyes. curled her lashes like she was trained, added mascara.

she took in a deep breath, tightened her belt and moved to the armoury.

eight grabbed a handful of throwing knives.

two sets of four lined her belt, another four—two per leg—secured to her thighs.

she slid one more into each boot, the cold metal pressing against her ankles.

twelve in total.

enough to kill a room if she didn't miss.

but eight never missed.

"target is william sinclair." the handler simply said as they walked the halls together.

the thud of her boots and clicking of the handler's heels.

she was passed a file, eight glanced and read over it, only paying attention to the map.

this was where she excelled.

this was where she could be free.

feel the cold and bitter air, see the moon and city lights.

she craved it more than anything.

she passed the file back and tightened her ponytail, the handler put in a code and a door opened.

eight slipped through without a word.

broke in to a sprint. running fast and hard under the cover of darkness.

she knew most streets like the back of her hand.

especially chicago, for some reason.

slipping in and out of alleyways, hiding from passing cars and drunk people stumbling in the streets.

she found herself rounding a dark corner—only to skid to a stop at the sight blue and red flashing lights.

shit.

police.

she groaned and let her eyes dart around the area.

police tape and officers standing around.

a woman in a tan trench coat with her hair tied up into a tight bun.

eight crept back around the corner, pressed her back against the wall and tilted her head. listening to the conversation.

something about a hit and run.

there was a soft crunch behind her.

eight stiffened and acted on instinct, spinning around to see a man standing there.

"what the hell are you?" he snickered, eying her up and down.

eight narrowed her gaze and reached for a knife.

"woah—hey i—" he started backing up, hands raised and eyes wide. she stalked forward as he trembled.

"please— i don't have any money i swear—"

she tossed the knife in his chest.

that way it'd look like a random stabbing.

the man cried out in pain, knocking into a dumpster as he fell to the ground.

eight pounced on him, covering his mouth with a gloved hand as she pulled the knife out and stabbed him one more time.

she stared into his eyes as he died.

"hands in the air!" a woman yelled, eight twisted her head to look over her shoulder.

a woman with hazel, almost green eyes aimed a pistol at her.

tan trench coat, white shirt and black dress pants. a badge on her hip told eight she was a detective.

fuck.

slowly, eight raised to her feet, back facing the woman.

"hey! i said hands in the—"

she flung a blade over her shoulder. heard the detective startle.

why...didn't she kill her?

eight ran.

shouting and yelling echoed, footsteps chased after her.

she managed to run a far distance, hide in an alleyway then climbing up a fire escape, onto a roof top.

she let herself breathe, taking in gasps of cold air and ignored the ache in her legs. how her stitches ached and throbbed, she probably tore them open.

eight needed to remember where she was heading, her target should be around.

she crouched on the edge of the rooftop, squinting and scanning the ground, looking for signs of movement.

she felt ... off.

the fact she was feeling at all meant something was wrong.

she just needed to focus on the mission. focus on the target and get this all over with.

she didn't remember how long she looked.

only that she found her target walking the streets with a smug smile as he counted money.

stupid man.

she hid in an alleyway, using the shadow as cover.

they were called the shadows once.

back when she was younger. then they took on the mantle of the numbers—something about dramatic effect.

shit—stop. focus.

she crept out of her hiding place, grabbed a knife from her belt and followed after him.

no one was around, no cameras in sight.

perfect.

eight glanced over her shoulder, then up and around to make sure no one was watching.

she lifted her hand, flicked the knife out of her grasp and heard it sink into the back of the man's neck.

severing his brain stem. cutting into his vertebrae. making him crumble to the floor.

she cracked her neck. took in a deep breath and moved to retrieve her knife.

yanking it out, a sickening wet sound filled the streets as she did so.

eight stared down at the body. his blood seeping out onto the sidewalk, gravity pulling it towards a gutter where it started to trickle down.

she stepped over him, cleaned her knife off on her pants, put it back on her belt.

now she just had to make it back home before she ran into anyone else.

[tam-stxr]

This is not ordinary Crystal btw- this is Eiden Real Heart (see the veins properly)

Reason why?

Eiden was born as a Curse Demon! He has three diamond crystals hearts; along with his black marks on his arms...

Each three crystals attached Eiden body when he's growing up. Each crystals are Eiden Life costs, if one of the crystals breaks he loses one life if all the crystals broke Eiden will die that's part of his curse the red crystals are his red blood the middle of the crystals it his real Heart beats.

Eiden is a Immortal demon living over 500+ years...

How does Eiden Curse works?

Eiden arms are black just like as Shadows his fingers and palms are red shed like blood

Whenever he touches any living things turns desegregate like a dust. His nails are sharp in black.

Eiden killed millions of humanity because his wife had been killed by a Demon by next day at night Mona was born in 16th September.

Eiden hated Humans how they treated him in the past after all he killed his own family because he was being framed he accidentally killed his mother when he was only 7 years old... That makes Eiden lost his one life emotions break second is Amanai he lost his another life. Eiden has one life left to live all what he wants to find the Murderer who killed Amanai he won't die before his curse breaks.

That's why Eiden living inside on Mona to find the Killer he doesn't even told Mona yet he's her Father! (Wow Eiden what a Dad are ya)

So what do y'all think?

@electronicclowncollector

@dragongodryss

@nashnathan

@archiiel

[kikuwaters]

Project Infinity is the name given to the overarching goal of the exiled indulgentia demon, Mammon. His goal is eternal life, and he'll do anything to achieve that, including messing with death itself.

When one of his lackys at his organization discovers a young boy who managed to stop a reaper from taking another soul, they take this child into their care. Hes raised as the solution to all their problems, their savior, their hero.

He is raised, as Project Infinity.

[tar-dar]

Misam | Goretober Day 1&2: Shatter and Rot/Decay