#also i got tired of trying to draw the gore there

[kiviniik]

fanart for the amazing @beelzebby666 of their fic that I stupidly haven't bookmarked???

#kiv.art #beelzy help me here #also i got tired of trying to draw the gore there #just get some reddish blobs #cant believe i drew ww with his shirt properly buttoned #took me 3 days to find a piece I could draw and not be horrible #beelzy im sorry my art isnt amazing #i tried

[aurumacadicus]

More serial killer Bucky I guess. 😒 Tw: blood and gore and self harm and depression and suicidal thoughts and beloveds this man is a serial killer. This is past revenge he gets too much pleasure out of it. He chooses not to hurt Tony much but that’s an exception not the rule. He once tried to strangle Steve for getting in his way and Steve almost broke his neck in response these men went to sleep and woke up WRONG. They are not nice people.

Also I’m saying this so no one gets on my ass: The illnesses Bucky mentions are in quotations because until he actually researches them, Bucky thinks they’re fake. They didn’t have that shit back before he fell from the train and he is ASTOUNDED to know that he and Steve probably have some form of PTSD. But that’s future Bucky’s problem. He’s got Hydra to kill.

Watch out for under the cut.

—

“You need to go check on Tony,” Steve says. “I’ve got too many enemies on my tail. I can’t go. He’s not answering his phone.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and lets it back out. “I’m on my own job.”

“He’s not answering his phone and I can’t get to him,” Steve says flatly. “If he’s dead when I get back, that’s your fucking problem.” He hangs up before Bucky can say anything in response. The dial tone sounds judgmental.

Bucky looks at his phone for a moment, sighing, then crushes the Hydra goon’s throat in his metal fist, not caring about the blood splattering over him. He would have preferred to draw it out, but he hadn’t started his homicidal bender just to watch the kid who got him out of it die. His phone rings again. He answers it.

“I told him you killed his parents, by the way,” Steve says, voice clipped. “So he might try to shoot you. I don’t know,” he adds, sounding frustrated. “He might hand the gun to you to finish the job, too. He’s taking this medicine. I think sometimes it helps and sometimes it doesn’t.” He sighs angrily. “I kinda thought they’d be able to fix this by now. The human body is a mistake. Have you heard of AIM?”

"No," Bucky says simply. He’s been hyper-focused on Hydra.

“Fucking piece of shit future things were supposed to be better without me--” Steve says, and then there’s the sound of shooting, and then he hangs up again.

Bucky considers looking into AIM, then decides he can deal with them if and when he runs out of Nazis to kill.

Tony’s front door is unlocked. It irritates him. Most people are scared off by locked doors, go looking for easier targets then. A locked door would at least buy someone time to protect themselves if the invader was intent on getting in.

“Are you here to kill me?” Tony asks where he’s sprawled out on the couch. “Finish the Stark family off forever?” His head lolls forward, and he blinks at him slowly, bruises under his eyes, greasy hair sticking to his damp forehead.

Bucky walks over to grab him by the front of the shirt with his metal hand. Tony doesn’t stand up when he tugs on it, so he shrugs, dragging him over to where he assumes the bedroom is. That seems to warrant a reaction, apparently, because he scrabbles uselessly with his grip. He makes his way through the bedroom to the bathroom.

“What is this?” Tony finally asks. “Is this a prosthetic? Why is it made out of metal?”

“To torture me,” Bucky answers. It could be a joke. It mostly isn’t. He opens the shower door and thrusts Tony inside. He means to draw his hand back, but Tony had a grip on him, so he slides a few inches before Bucky stops. “You’re gross.”

“It’s not gonna kill me to stay gross a little longer,” Tony huffs, twisting his arm this way and that. “This is sloppy. They really were trying to torture you, huh?”

“Chronic pain makes you tired. When you’re tired, you’re easy to control,” Bucky says. He sounds like he’s repeating it. He doesn’t know where he’s heard it before. One of the Hydra scientists, probably. It makes sense.

Tony’s face twitches, but whatever was there, it’s gone before Bucky can parse it. “I could do better,” he says, wrinkling his nose in disdain.

“You can’t even bathe yourself regularly,” Bucky says flatly. “Melding metal with a nervous system? Please.”

Tony jerks his head up to glare at him, and it’s the most emotion he’s seen on his face. “Oh yeah? Fucking watch me.”

He pulls his shirt over his head and throws it at him, and Bucky ducks on instinct. He stoops to pick it up and wonders why, remembers someone yelling at a bunch of little girls to pick their clothes up after they bathe. It sounds like his voice, maybe. He decides not to think about it. It wouldn’t help. He takes a moment to examine Tony’s arms. All he sees is the faded pink lines, he notices with approval. The scars will probably always be visible, but at least it doesn’t look like he’s got any new marks.

Tony throws his pants at him. He catches them and can’t help but think he aimed them at his head on purpose. His aim isn’t very good. But then, his everything isn’t very good right now. His ribs are too visible. He could use a few good meals.

Tony shoves his boxers down, and Bucky can’t help the noise he makes when he sees the wounds inside of his thighs. Razor marks in two rows from mid thigh up to the crease almost up to where thigh met pelvis.

Bucky has his flesh hand around Tony’s throat before he even realizes, shoving him up against the tiles with a snarl. He feels Tony’s throat work beneath his hand, but there’s no pleasure in it--there’s no fear in Tony’s wide eyes, no anxiety. He doesn’t even struggle. Bucky drops him, disgusted, and Tony drops to the floor with a gasp as he spits, “You’d be happy if I killed you, wouldn’t you?”

Tony clutches at his throat, as he continues sucking in air, but he doesn’t answer, staring up at him from under his lashes with what might be disappointment, if Bucky was generous, except that he mostly looks like he feels nothing at all.

It’s wrong. People shouldn’t want to... What had Steve said? Medicine. Tony was sick. Something was making him feel like this.

“Shower,” Bucky tells him sharply, catches sight of the razor on the shower shelf, and reaches in to snatch it.

Tony looks like he wants to complain, but thinks better of it in response to Bucky’s sharp glare.

Bucky waits for the shower to start before he goes through the bathroom cupboards and drawers, then out into the bedroom. He finds a couple more razors. Takes those too. Finds a couple orange bottles and examines them. Googles the names to figure out what they are. Doesn’t understand any of the words, really.

“What’s serotonin?” Bucky asks when Tony comes out of the bathroom, and Tony lets out a startled bark of laughter. “They didn’t have that when I was in the army,” he continues defensively, and Tony laughs harder.

Tony gets dressed, and Bucky googles what the fuck a dopamine is. Doesn’t care that Tony’s getting close until his hands are on his metal wrist. “This really is garbage,” he huffs, unimpressed. “I know I could do better.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” Bucky says flatly. “You’re still trying to die. You don’t even lock your door.” He slants Tony a sharp look. “Is that because you’re hoping someone will come in and hurt you?”

“Maybe, but so far it’s just been your contrarian ass,” Tony grumbles. “Saved my life twice even though you regularly kill people. Even my own parents. So unfair.”

Bucky turns his judgmental slant to a full-on glare, outraged. Tony doesn’t even notice, making him turn his arm so he can examine the elbow joints in motion. “Do you have any self-preservation in that emaciated body of yours?”

“Celebrities are supposed to be thin,” Tony scoffs.

“I don’t know what that means,” Bucky tells him, unimpressed, and then jerks his arm free and stands. “Answer your fucking phone.”

“I was mugged,” Tony says with a blase shrug, and then snaps, “Don’t fucking choke me if you’re not gonna finish the job,” when Bucky reaches out for him again.

Bucky pauses to consider this. Maybe a good slap would help?

Tony tips his head back to look up at him, purring, “Or unless you’re gonna finish the job, if you know what I mean. I like when my daddy chokes me while I’m riding him.”

“Gross. I knew your dad,” Bucky says. Remembers the way Howard looked up at him, blood dripping down his face, and asked, “Sergeant Barnes?” before he beat him to death. “Don’t call me that. You’re twelve.”

“I’m twenty-two,” Tony exclaims, offended.

It's the most emotion Bucky has seen on him, even more than in the bathroom. “Answer your fucking phone,” he says, instead of ‘sounds fake’ or ‘no way.’ “I had to leave in the middle of a job. If I have to do that again, I’ll be very angry.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Tony says, and Bucky has to credit him for being honest.

“Maybe you can fix my arm,” Bucky says, instead of telling him he’s annoying. “If you live long enough.”

Tony’s eyes immediately go to his arm again. Speculative. Interested.

Bucky leaves. Takes a few days to do a deep dive on “depression” and “bipolar” and “anxiety” and wonders when they started existing outside of shell shock, except apparently that isn’t a thing anymore. Takes another few days to research the medication he’d found and texts Steve that he doesn’t think what Tony’s taking is helpful. Suggests different options.

The only response he gets is “why is Tony taking my blood????” and “WHY IS TONY DRAWING ARMS??????? ARE YOU GETTING A NEW ARM????? I’m gonna tell him to put a smiley face on where the star is now.”

#ideas #winteriron #tw: everything

[old-inactive-bit]

here’s some doodles from the past few days! they are not in order lmao!

im just gonna dump all the ones I like here, some I took the text out of, and I edited these all to try and make them more clear, but yeah!! ill also add context to some of these after putting them in here

also ⚠️ one of these has some blood/kiiind of gore in it but its really not that bad because its a pencil doodle

random varied doodles ✨

‘je suis so fucking addicted to alcohol’ is a reference to a thing one of my friends sent my friends once & I kinda want to digitize it and run it through picmix to make it sparkly lol

also I am so sorry about how I drew tails I was very tired lmao

me trying to figure out how to draw these characters ✨

(under the cut because this post is getting so long omg)

I think the last image is pretty funny because it also has the doodle related to amy going through war so my weird sketches figuring out how to draw characters look like they traumatized her lmao

other doodles ✨

the first image here was because there was a school assembly & I did not care so I started drawing hedgehog yaoi 👍 those were also my first doodles after sonic prime got me back into this lol i accidentally made amy look homophobic the first time i drew her this time im so sorry 😭

me obsessing over teeth for a bit ✨

i randomly get the urge to draw teeth. dunno why. teeth r just really cool lol

#slightly old/art in development #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #amy rose #miles tails prower #tails the fox #silver the hedgehog #charmy bee #doodle dump #long post #jesus fuck so many tags im sorry guys i know this isn't instagram #i just like having everything be easily searchable on my blog via tags #mild blood #mild gore #not really tbh but just in case :D #i had to switch over to my pc because mobile allows 10 pictures maximum oughh #ok i think i'm done #sonadow #for one doodle page #technically a second doodle too #idc interpret this how you want I can’t stop you lol

[zillyeh]

Sundowning

CW: violence, mentions of self harm, very brief bit of gore

“Can you just go over it one more time? Like I’m stupid?”

“I don’t know Zee, there’s only so much stupider I can go before I start making animal noises.”

The smaller troll threw a handful of water from the swamp shoreline at her purpleblooded friend. The taller of the two giggled, splashing her back. She pulled her twin braids over her shoulder, picking up a stick from the ground. As she spoke, she drew in the mushy mud between them.

“Okay, so. It’s basically astral projection-”

“Stupider than that, En.”

Endara let out a huff, drawing two circles with lines coming out of the top on top of two triangles.

“The stuff that keeps you awake,” she said slowly. “It’s like if that got up and left… it’s the same thing as when I teleport, except it’s not as hard. Y’know, cause my body doesn’t need to come with me.”

“So it doesn’t make you cough up blood?”

“Anyway-”

“En-”

“Anyway,” Endara insisted, “Other people can do it too. Subconsciously. Not on purpose. People with powers because of the brain stuff.”

You miss her. You don't know if it can fully register to you how much you miss her. Your mind is used and broken, and hardly your own anymore. It's these lucid hours in the daylight when all you do is miss her and hurt yourself and everything around you. The walls. The floor. Everything. You don't know who she is- you hardly know who you are- but you know you need her.

“Brain stuff,” the anon repeated with a scoff. It was a rare moment where her friend could see her face fully, uncovered by its wraps. It was hot in the swamps that night, both from sulfuric vents below and the season beating down on them from above. Her teardrop pupils were barely visible in her eyes, too dark for her age. It was a game to find where the line of her pupils started and the dark gray ended. She also eyed the hardness of her jaw, too skinny to hold too much of the roundness that was quickly leaving Endara’s face. Then the rest… She couldn’t keep her eyes there for too long, or she’d cover her mouth with her hands.

There was something tugging at Endara’s heart as she scratched more lines into the ground.

“Yes, brain stuff. I haven’t met her yet, but my ancestor up in the mountains uses her powers to get the big dragons used to her.”

The long horned anon bit her tongue to the disparaging remark she always made when En talked about her ancestor. She was too invested in her lesson.

"Is it hard to get into people's heads?" the anon asked earnestly. "Do they have to let you?"

"Sopor leaves people more unguarded than you'd think," she said with a sage nod. "Animals are harder, people who just like, deal with the nightmares are just as hard."

"Fucked up," the anon said, furrowing her brow. "You're the only one who can do that though?"

"Nah, plenty of people can mess with dreams if they try to. There's only one way to tell if someone's actually in there or not." Endara made a crude drawing of her friend's face, including the wraps she usually wore. "Most people's brains can't fully reconstruct a face no matter how much they look at it. There's always something off.”

“I dunno, En,” the anon said with a tch, “That thing in the dirt is shitty looking enough to match the real thing…”

Endara threw mud at her. She wondered if she could tell. Those occasional fleeting touches that gave her access to Endara’s nerves firing off. Nevermind her pulse. She wondered if she thought about her half as much. 

“Shut up, Zee,” Endara scoffed. “You’re so annoying. Basically if you're awake enough, you can tell when someone's in your dreams if you see them. Their face is too real.”

“If I show up in someone's dreams do you think I'd have my mask on? Or if someone came in mine?” It sounded like a genuine question. Genuine worry. Endara bit her lip.

“Hard to say. You wear that nasty thing enough that it's basically part of your face now…” 

A mass of ugly gray wraps, eyes that look so tired for her age. The scarring she’d given herself after you two did something, you two did something terrible. You did so many terrible things. The worst thing you did was convince her to die. The worst thing she did was want you to live. How long ago? The sun streaming through the cave mouth wants you to remember. The comforting darkness wants you to forget. You know you should, you know you want to, but something coherent rings through your head like the clear gonging of a bell.

If you survived, what if she had?

“Have you ever been in my dreams before?” she asks, her dark eyes searching her’s for something. A purple flush warms the other troll’s cheeks. She would notice her if she did again, wouldn’t she? Now that she knows?

“A couple times. Just to see.” 

I could probably do it half dead.

It’s daytime. If she’s alive then she should be asleep. Trolls sleep during the day. Your memories return enough in the daytime for you to know that. Your memories return enough to know that if she’s alive, you’re this thing for nothing. The part of your soul that is still a troll makes you sit. Makes you close your eyes. You can still see the sun through your eyelids, but it doesn’t hurt. Or maybe it does. You can’t remember if you feel pain or not.

A look like Endara hadn’t seen from her flashed across her friend’s face. The color she so desperately tried to hide dusted her own cheeks before she looked back down into the dirt.

“I always wondered why you looked like that in my dreams,” she grumbled, “Nobody else ever looked like that.”

Zippie’s insomnia always gave way to the worst nightmares she could possibly have. One of these nights she was worried she’d hurt Bess in her sleep, even despite the precautions she’d taken in her bedroom. Bed was more comfortable than cupe by a long shot. It was a rare night where she practically couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Were you that strong? That you could find her? Force her to sleep from this far away?

Of course you could. You have part of her. Stability that It thought you needed but she didn’t. Why would she? Treating her like a person and not a battery would have been more energy than either of those two monsters would expend to her.

A the crack of a branch sounds off like a gunshot not too far from the pair at the edge of the swamp. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone out there. Not at the edge of Zee’s property. She can’t help it. She looks up. Hoodless. Maskless. Her face on full display for the adult violet that had wandered too close. Her slow eyes kept her safe, but her lower face?

There was a reason she never took the wraps off.

Endara had always wondered what would happen when she got found out. How much of her fear was justified. How badly an adult troll would hurt what they understood to be a child at first glance.

The answer was very, very badly. 

She didn’t even hesitate before barrelling towards the two. Like a predator that knew this was it’s only chance to strike. Before Endara could move, she’d been shoved roughly aside and Zvejia hauled off the ground by the shoulders. She’d guarded her throat, but the adult was struggling for it. Zvejia bit anywhere she could find purchase, down her arms and on her face. The violet winced and swore whenever her bare skin made contact with her hands. Zee must have been using her powers on top of tearing as much skin as she could.

As much as this troll’s face was burned into Zippie’s memory, she’d never see it properly in her dreams again.

Endara coughed up blood even before she’d teleported behind the troll mere feet away. She hadn’t perfected the art of rematerializing while partially in an object, but this would do.

She wasn’t strong. She was weak. Sickly. Worsening by the day. But she didn’t need strength to do what she’d intended to do if this night ever came. The reason she’d stolen so many of Zvejia’s medical books. The reason she’d practiced to the point of bleeding eyes at all was for this.

The muscle and tissue being displaced made a more horrific noise than either of them had ever heard. It took the violet seconds too long to realize where the lanky purple’s hand was, too long for her to try to formulate a shriek, long enough for her heart to crush all too easily in the hand that had been delivered through her back. 

“Endara!” the anon cried as the violet released her, not dead but certainly not alive for long. When the soon to be body tumbled to the ground, she slid right off of Endara’s arm. Like a glove. Leaving her the gory prize she’d won, and a purple haze around her vision. 

“Why is it always this?” rasped a voice where Zvejia would have fallen under the violet. Where she did fall under the violet, when the two of you actually lived through this. The part of you that is the troll holding that adult’s heart understands immediately. She’s on her feet already. Hornless. Maskless. Lacking the black that once hid her from danger, and the fins she’d nearly killed herself cutting out of her face. The scars were just as ugly, covered in the other ones she’d given herself as well that handn’t healed. Her wounds never healed right. You two always thought it was part of the mutation. 

The rivets in her wrists match your own. Tattoos cover every inch of skin you could see exposed. On her upper arm you see a band of purple that makes you choke out a sob.

She glances towards you. Then she double takes. You can sense her fear here, standing on either side of the first body you two ever made.

Her breathing is shallow. All she says is:

“No.”

“Zvejia…” Your voice is not the voice of the young woman that just killed for the only friend she ever had, but of a monster. Guttural and too big to ever have come out of that girl before she was made into what you are now.

Her next “no” comes as a plead as she drops to her knees. She’s so much bigger and so much smaller than you remember her being. You approach and she stumbles back. That hurts the part of you that forgets what you look like now. The black claws of your toes dig into the soft swamp dirt to keep you from doing it again.

“You can’t,” she said, her razor soft voice begging as if this were a nightmare she could beg her way out of. “You c-c- that’s not- I’m so sorry, En. This has to not be real, this has to not be real.”

You tilt your head like the animal you are. She grips her head. She refuses to look at you. Not like you look at her.

“The… sun… is… going… down…” you murmur, the part of you connected to your body still feeling the cold of the night start to settle in. A shiver runs through the incorporeal dream, making it feel cold within. She looks at you again. She grew up so handsome. So tired. She got to live. It’s what you wanted.

It’s what the part of you that lives in the daylight wanted.

The part of you that lives in the darkness hunches you back over onto all fours, chitinous claws digging into the hardening dirt underneath you.

“What did he do to you…” is the last thing the troll in you hears. Whatever thing you’ve invaded the dreams of this time you are going to tear to shreds like all the rest of those who dare trespass your territory. Except this time something is different. 

This thing smells like you. 

Enough to stop you long enough for it to rip itself awake, leaving you too unstable to stay dreamwalking like this.

You wake with a wet face, howling in what could have been pain or could have been agony, if you were the sort of thing that could understand emotions that weren’t territorial or hungry. The new black of the sky outside helps you reorient yourself. 

With any luck, you won’t remember what you’ve seen come sunrise.

Neither of you will.

#Zilly drabbles #Dreamwalker #Zippie tag #Zipper Anthem #E tag #rubs more zippie secrests onto the dashboard #Sundowning #<-am under the impression this tag won't catch in any sort of search bc it's the 6th one in

[artxsticsuper]

Announcement & Updates for October and November

Announcement: About my BirdTown AU

Since this AU became unfinished due to school, I will try to find a better time to continue working on my headcanons for this AU. Most likely, I’ll have November be my complete deadline to complete it but I don’t have a specific day scheduled. If not, then it will be posted in January of next year.

Updates

So recently, I’ve been distancing myself away from social media since I feel like I spend way too much time on it and I’ve been slowly getting tired of it. Although I’m thinking about taking another break for at least 1 more week, I kind of got a few plans for October and November. Not a lot since I’m absolutely shit at making more than like 6 pieces of artwork in 1-2 months:

1. I will be working on something related to Halloween (obviously)

2. I’m currently rediscovering and experimenting on pastel and flower gore. There may be a few posts related to that but those will most likely be posted outside of Tumblr.

3. There will be a redraw! Can you guess what it is? [Hint: It has something to do with cats and an underrated Pixar villain. The art can be found on my Instagram and it got posted in 2021]

4. Despite me commonly posting 4*Town related posts on here since the day I revived my blog, I will try and post other stuff since this blog is not strictly made for 4*Town content. So do expect different stuff from me

(don’t worry, I’m not leaving the 4*Town fanbase).

5. Expect more It Takes Two content! There is currently an AU in development related to that. And maybe a little bit of Minecraft Story Mode. Yes, I know the game is absolutely dead and has been discontinued from shelves. But you know what? Fuck it. I’m reliving my childhood.

6. If I do get the time, do expect me to draw my boy Foxy because I’m about to prepare for the new FNAF movie.

That will be all for now! I’ll see y’all soon 💕

Also, a message to @chillwildwave : I’ma keep reminding myself to read your fanfic. I haven’t paid attention to my boys in a while so please forgive me 😭

#admin post #announcement #disney #pixar #turning red #4town #non disney #update #the incredibles #incredibles 2 #halloween season #halloween #october

[ritualis]

this is a sideblog for me bc I want more of a presence in the world (main: ancient-reverie) I'm an alter in a system and my personal main blog is bitterbluenephalem (i also am the main one in charge of cannothelpmyselves where you'll find more specifically vaporwave/liminal content and edits)

I post my art and my headmate's art here mostly digital painting/drawing, poetry and prose, photography I know no one will see, and the rare physical painting and craft if I ever take a picture of them.

currently too tired to do tarot readings

if the post doesn't have a source attached to the post, check the OP. I try to only rb sourced art from human artists.

shit about me below the cut.

Will update from time to time.

short about until I wanna make it longer or make a whole page:

800+ year old immortal. Italian. son of an demon and an angel.

not an angel. not a demon. not a human. nephalem.

pfp is me, drawn by me. I'm not albino it's just magic-related trauma. I used to have black hair before I turned 14 and got kidnapped by a witch.

father of 6. grandfather of 2. estranged spouse.

likes: animals, coffee, cooking, cliff diving and swimming, driving, getting fucked up, cats, art of every kind in every form, being in the city at night, tea, snowy forests, the rain, anything fucking blue, obsessed with music, buying things and cooking food for people I love, creating things

weaknesses (positive): girls. cats. the dip in my hips. boys. "do you wanna get high?". romantic consensual cannibalism. tattoos and piercings. art, that one song, and also that other song, and- acknowledging my existence. horses. dragons. birds. cats. I get hungry when I see gore.

weaknesses (negative): "do you wanna get high?". between my shoulder blades. girls. shiny things like jewelry, clothes, knick-knacks, art and new sex toys. nicotine. walking around for hours. boys. rejection. things that trigger trauma flashbacks. mobile adoptable games.

strengths (positive): a Virgo. having physical and mental endurance like a MOTHERFUCKER. I can sprint really fast. unlock any locked door or window with magic. I have three pairs of wings and can use them. some magic involving shadows. I can hide markings and tattoos on my skin. i can sing? decent painter.

strengths (negative): a Vrigo. has a hard time chilling out, anal perfectionist, accidentally able to go 2-3 days without eating before noticing. drug addict. occasional alcoholic. insomnia. can and will be awake for over two days. can sit still doing nothing for 6+ hours.

Siruss Hadal / sy-ruh-ss • hey-dle / Definition: a being : a hybrid of a demon and angel, appearing as a humanoid : a creature meant to live to be destroyed, and rebuilt to be destroyed to be rebuilt again : an example of growth : a tired man who just wants to take naps with his cats and have coffee while watching the sunrise with someone who uses his name

•chaos s - demon tag

•radiant - angel tag

•aberrant - nephalem tag

#pinned #ritualis

[bvannn]

Weekly Update December 15, 2023

Finals week is done. I’m still worried about the one class but I’ve done everything I can. Next week I have some doctor appointments but otherwise am good to rest up and hopefully get more work done. I have tonight and tomorrow morning also before I have to do a long drive, so maybe I’ll finish off some other projects.

TRGA: 1-4 Tim’s tweens are done, and I have what I think is a faster strategy for tweens now as well, so all that should be moving faster. I just need to do Tim’s face and clean up his joints and he should be good for the shot, I can make and add in props and I’ll post the wip. I’m planning to do backgrounds all in one go at the end so they stay consistent from shot to shot, and sketch lines as well. I’ll probably do some of the more tedious work (exporting and reimporting sketch lines, and cleanup) in the evenings and the more brain intensive work like props during real free time.

Still chipping away at late drawing prompts. I got the rest of the Inktober set sketched, I’m nearing the ‘easy’ prompts for the cringe set, and the gore set I just haven’t had motivation for but I can maybe try to finish that one off in the next few days. Also haven’t gotten comic thumbnail stuff done since like 2 weeks ago but I might get cracking at that in the car ride tomorrow, or definitely after, there’s a lot more interest in my OCs than I thought so I really should be prioritizing that higher.

Music: real close on the one song, and recorded pieces for a piano arrangement of another thing. I wanted to doll it up with real instruments, and maybe I still will but I can also do a just piano version and throw that out. The main original I’m working on is close to done instrumentally, I was going to record the breakdown tonight but I’m a bit tired because I decided to do some chores, so maybe it’ll be tomorrow or maybe I will do it tonight. Also started poking around Melodies for a second song before realizing my retro sound chip plug-in set is a pain in the neck and will only play one note at a time so I need like 5 or 6 layers to do what I want and also the gameboy chip has hella delay for some reason. Not unfixable but annoying. Theoretically I should be moving to a new computer soonish so maybe I can try out some voice synths for the main song I’m working on since I don’t think I can sing.

I’m kinda hitting that tiredness wall but I should hopefully be able to get some rest in the coming week, get some stuff together to post, and be nice and ready. I should also mention I have a surgery coming up too which should take me out of commission for some time, idk how long, doesn’t sound very long though, at least not as long as the last one. That’s not until the week of christmas though so I should still be good to do stuff until then. Maybe I’ll draw tonight, maybe I won’t since it’s already late. I’ve been getting weird bouts of restlessness where I just decide to do a bunch of things at once, but I think I already got one when I decided to do chores. Oh well always tomorrow.

#weekly update

[you-can-reclaim-your-crown]

i understand you completely! it's the same for me except i'm a native english speaker lmao. but the fact that you're willing to write a story in english despite it being your 3rd language is already an impressive feat, you should be proud! here's a protip in case you need it, consider searching these terms if you find yourself unable to properly convey your thoughts into your writing: (insert word or phrase here) synonym, (insert word or phrase here) definition, (insert word or phrase here) antonym. don't worry about it though really, i do think that art is challenging and difficult to create - be it drawing, writing or videos - it does require a lot of practice and studying to be able to reach a certain level of skill but it doesn't matter as long as you keep trying and giving your best! at the end of the day, more than anything else i think effort is of the utmost importance and it'll definitely reflect in one's works. i'm wishing you the best and i look forward to what you have in store <3 will you be posting it on ao3? the mods will add it to the sukugoweek collection if you tag your work with sukugoweek2023. i found out that they'll be accepting submissions until january 3rd so there's still plenty of time left! if you wish to post more than 1 fic, please feel free to do so too. they also just added a special prompt for gojo's birthday, you might want to use it if the opportunity arises haha. aw it's no problem, i'm happy to know that i was able to help you in some way <3 yes i feel you, these bitches had me in a chokehold since 2021 when i first got into jjk! it's going to be my 3rd year of brainrot soon in a couple of months, time flies so fast...

You really do say the sweetest things🫶🏻 i get a little message like this and i feel so happy it's almost embarrassing.

Languages are so weird.

How are "English can be weird. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though."

And

"Gore gore gore gore"(croatian) even real?? Whoever decided this: buddy, you blew it. Super hard. Complete buffoonery.

Special prompt you say..🤔 it does give me some ideas...

i might have underestimated how long this is going to be. My plan was a one shot and a little bonus chapter/epilogue-ish thing. But we will see. Maybe i have to split the main chapter.

I think i started to ship them around October 27th, so I'm a sukugo baby. It's the first gojo ship I'm really invested in. I'm fond of nanago but it's just that.

(Shout-out to 0bstinate for this one sukugo on 'it is not enough to love you' post. That really got my gears turning... you're a hero)

And then it his my lika a truck. They have everything I'm into: enemies-to-lovers, honoured/fallen one, red+blue, canabilism as love language (bc i like them a little fucked up), monsterfuckery, i hate everyone but you, unhinged x unhinged, corruption/redemption etc. let's be honest their fight was basically foreplay. Archenemies? Kinda gay if you ask me.

Aaaand I'm rambling again😅sorry

But to answer your question: yes I'm going to post in on ao3. Because fuck anxiety, we are so back bitches. And I'm a people pleaser and you encouraged me, so you are my people to please. Sorry buddy but you are not getting out of it now.

Anyway my reply is probably a bit all ower the place. I didn't sleep well, I'm tired and i accidentally deleted my reply before so i had to typ it again.

I really really appreciate that you took your time and wrote me❤️ thank you from the bottom of my heart

#asks #I'm screeching like a pterodactyl #i'm just so happy #sukugo is my new obsession and I'm happy people are sharing it

[finniestoncrane]

Hi hi Finnie!! Congrats on reaching 1k! I've been going back n forth if i should request this because,,, nervessss, but can I pleasse request no.9 ever fallen in love with someone?

I'm 5'3, have blonde buzzed hair and a curvy, chubby body. I'm afab genderfluid & bi so i joke my gender and sexuality is just everything/everything XD

I LOOOVE making really bad jokes, like dad jokes, puns, dirty jokes, and some of my favourite jokes dont have spoken punchlines so i stare at people with a goofy face until they get it :D I love listening to other people rant about their passions and learning new things, even if i dont fully get it, and enjoy being able to do the same back.

I'm very creative so most of my hobbies are with my hands, from drawing, to sewing, resin and woodwork, i like to try a bit of everything. I really enjoy seeing a finished product that i made on my own! I also like reading and playing dnd so I'm really good at crafting strategies or creative ways around problems in the game (and describing how i get to defeat my enemies, because im squeamish with real blood, but i love some good ol fictional gore.)

I'm very outgoing and bubbly, and i dislike being formal with people. I'd much rather be my casual and crude self, and skip any awkwardness. I am naturally very loud so i can have some issues around quieter people but i try my best to adjust so I'm not cutting them off. I also have a very dirty mind and am a very physically affectionate person, I'm always flirting with, hugging someone, linking arms, or holding hands, whether were platonic or romantic!

Asfghgjfla thank you for letting me ramble and for doing all of these for us!!

🎀 No.9: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone 🎀

tell me a little bit about yourself and i'll give you a rogue pairing a/n: ok i am bestowing upon you what i consider to be the greatest gift because truly you just suit him so well 💚 1k milestone info! 🔞minors dni🔞 • kofi • tag: finnie1k

ok this is my own headcanon but it's practically legit canon in my mind by this point, but thick bodies are his favourite type of body so checkmark there

also, exceptional gender and sexuality choice. i feel like yeah he's a cis bisexual boy, but also i don't think he cares enough to put any sort of label on it, and he has more important things to be concerned about, so he'll identify as whatever the fuck makes you leave him alone and stop questioning him quickest

look i'm not pulling out my files on his dialogue in the games, but trust me when i say that this is the dorkiest dweeb in the universe and his ability to make the dumbest jokes and be so satisfied with himself knows no bounds

good about the listening thing, because you won't be allowed to get a word in edgeways. and besides, he's the best, so he deserves everyone's attention at all times while he talks about whatever the hell he pleases (but he might also let you tell him about something you love if he's too tired to talk)

yeah, stinky boy is down there in his little workshop using his little raccoon paws to get up to all sorts of nonsense so he'd be super pleased to have someone with some capabilities in that kind of area to help him with some projects

and being able to be strategic and creative with problem solving? sounds like someone just got promoted to riddler apprentice and chief "evil plan" coordinator

outgoing and bubbly are probably going to grate on him but god knows he needs someone to be the face of his operation, and it'd be good for him to have a brightness in his life

also it's fine to be loud because you need to be able to cut through either the sound of his welding or yelling or ranting

and truly very much so he needs physical attention and affection, which i'm sure he'd warm to eventually if you just keep at it. relentlessly, even if he's pretending to hate it and it's making him grumpy

#finnie writes #finnie1k

[himbopatrol]

Cherry Bomb // a Steve Harrington Love Story

Danny Henderson, looks like a punk, can be found at any underage disco. Snorts when she laughs, mom doesn't know she sneaks out, loves her little brother and will defend him with her life, when the song tarzan boy comes out in April of 85' it will become her favorite song, but don't tell anyone. "You look like you just rolled out of bed" "I did" Has a bad habit of smoking that she tries to keep secret from Dustin, but ultimately fails. Is a "cool girl" but also gets her face smashed into a locker, don't worry the smasher will have their head down a flushing toilet by next period. Get's straight A's, and is a star softball player. Oh, and is hopelessly, desperately, disgustingly, head over heels in love with Steve Harrington.

Moments in time and space usually between Danielle "Danny" Henderson and Steve Harrington

originally posted here

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!OC

Warnings: smut (eventual), sexual tension, lots of swearing, some stereotypical rude 80s teens, typical stranger things blood/gore, sloooooow buuurrrrnnn, i don't proofread

Minors Do Not Interact!

A slow work in progress, thank you for your support and patience. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

Chapter Five Below // word count 3,732

Chapter Five: “Do you always tuck your underwear into your socks?”

Friday, November 2nd, 1984

Danny was starting to worry about Nancy, her and Jonathan had bailed yesterday by fourth period and she still hadn’t seen them. Something was wrong. 

“God, I’m so sick of Tommy and Billy,” Steve came up behind Danny in the halls, it was finally their free period, Danny jumped slightly at his sudden appearance. 

“Hello to you too Steve,” Danny quipped. 

“Hey, why didn’t you and Eddie go as Eddie and Columbia instead? That seems more like the obvious choice to me,” Steve asked, quickly changing his own subject picking at his ear. His hair was damp, he had just gotten out of the showers from gym. They made their way into study hall, to not study. “Ya know I could also see Eddie going as Tim Curry– Frank N’ Furter.” Danny thought back to their conversation about their costumes. 

But you’re an Eddie, Eddie. And all your rock n’ roll porn. 

Mm yeah, but I just think Steve might lose his teenage boy mind when he sees you in a maid costume. 

You mean you. 

I mean Steve. It’ll just be a bonus for me. It’s the better costume anyway. 

You sure? 

Yeah, besides I don’t even like Meatloaf. 

“Eddie doesn’t like Meatloaf,” Danny finally replied. “Tommy and Billy?” 

“They were just being dicks in the showers.” Steve answered. 

“I should really come to the boys locker room more often,” Danny smirked. 

“Pervert,” Steve smiled back, bumping his shoulder against hers, making Danny hide another smile. 

“Hey, have you heard from Nance? Sorry to bring up a touchy subject, but I’m starting to worry.” 

“No I haven’t, I was thinking of trying to make up with her. I mean just one day away from her and it’s like torture,” Steve whined. “Like flowers or something, make some sort of gesture,” Steve continued. A tiny part of Danny was growing tired of hearing about Steve’s undying love for Nancy Wheeler. She loved Nancy too, she was in love with Steve, but she didn’t talk about it this much, did she? 

“Hmm, that sounds nice,” was all she could muster to say. 

“Hey what’s wrong?” Steve asked, accidentally letting his fingers rest on top of hers. 

She stared down at his hands. “I think I’m going to be sick,” Danny was technically lying, but something deep within her did make her feel sick. She jumped up from her chair and rushed out of the room. 

“Danny, wait!” Steve got up, drawing more attention from their peers. “Was it something I said?” He began to chase after her down the mostly empty halls. Damn she’s faster than I thought , Steve ran down the hall. 

Tommy H. and Billy were coming in from the track, laughing at something dumb, when they saw Danny running down the hall. Tears already streaming down her face she was an easy target, and without thinking, Tommy H. took hold of Danny and pushed her into the lockers, smashing her head against the slotted metal. “Watch where you’re going freak,” he laughed, Billy smiling behind him. Steve ran up just as Tommy had done so, knowing where this was gonna go Billy slipped away before a teacher came by. Danny had let out a yelp of pain, letting herself slide down the lockers surface, her toes curling in her sneakers, grabbing her head, curling into a ball. 

“Tommy what the the fuck?” Steve exclaimed. He instinctively pushed, hard, at Tommy’s chest. “She wasn’t even doing anything you asshole,” Steve hadn’t been this angry since the Jonathan thing last year. 

“I see you found a new little girlfriend pretty quickly huh?” Tommy responded. “That didn’t take long, but I’m not surprised really, you were bound to get whipped by some freak like her. Come on tell me the truth Stevie, is she the slut everyone says she is?” Tommy smiled. Steve reared back and punched Tommy straight in the nose, both boys stepped back, blood gushing out of Tommy’s nose, Steve shook his hand. Steve ignored Tommy’s advances and hunched to the ground to put his arms around Danny, he grabbed hold of her chin to push her face up. 

“Let me see,” he said softly, he took in a sharp breath at the sight. Blood gushed down from her left eyebrow from a fairly large gash, a small amount of blood dripped from her nose, mixed with tears and snot. Steve saw Tommy coming for him out of the corner of his eye. “Seriously dude, just fuck off,” he waved his hand at him, lifting Danny up. Tommy stepped back, not realizing how hard he had pushed her. 

“Wait,” Tommy began to say. 

“Forget it man,” Steve replied coldly, wrapping an arm around Danny, taking one of her hands in his own. Steve began walking Danny towards the nurse, telling her it’ll be okay. 

“I’m gonna kill him,” she said quietly through gritted teeth. 

“He’s not worth your time,” Steve reassured her. They arrived at the nurses office. 

“Oh, god, what happened?” The nurse stood from her desk. 

“I fell–” 

“Tommy Hagan pushed her into the lockers,” Steve corrected, not caring. 

“Thank you Mr. Harrington I can take her from here,” the nurse said, leading Danny to one of the beds. 

“I have a free period right now, and I’d really prefer to stay, I can help,” Steve said in this kind of desperate tone Danny hadn’t ever heard from him, not towards her anyway. 

“Alright fine,” the nurse responded. “Here help her clean it off,” she handed him a warm wet washcloth as she went to probably tell the office about Tommy. Danny winced as he pressed it to her eyebrow. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve replied quickly. 

“Is this our thing? Just constantly having to bandage each other up?” Danny stifled a chuckle. 

“I guess that’s what happens when two accident and fighting prone people are friends. And then mix in some crazy evil dimension shit in there too, we’re lucky we haven’t died of blood loss,” Steve laughed lightly. Steve whipped away most of the blood, Danny flinched back when she felt Steve place his hand behind her head, his thumb pressed into the softness of her cheek. “Sorry, just trying to get this,” he began to wipe away the dried tears and snot. 

“Oh gross, sorry,” she sniffled. 

“No worries,” he replied quietly, taking his hand away. “Are you still feeling sick?” 

Yes. “No,” Danny answered. “Not really,” she dropped her head. She could feel more tears forming. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, hoping she’d look back up at him. “Tell me, please,” his soft voice making it even harder on Danny. She didn’t answer him, but he kept waiting. After a few silent moments, he stood, and rummaged through the nurse’s drawers, looking for band-aids. “Alight, pink or blue?” Steve asked, holding up two boxes. 

Danny looked up at him, unable to hide her smile. “Pink,” she almost whispered. 

“You got it,” Steve smiled, tearing open a pink one and gently placing it over the top of her eyebrow. “There, all better,” he smoothed his thumb over the bandage. 

“I don’t look too gross do I?” Danny asked, concerned with all the blood and tears. 

“No you look…pretty. You are pretty,” Steve answered quietly, with a faint smile playing on his lips. Danny stared at him, blushing profusely. Wires were short circuiting in her brain. 

“I want to lie down,” was all she could think of to say. 

“Oh, okay, um, I’m gonna grab your bag from study hall,” Steve stood up. Danny nodded in reply before letting her head hit the pillow. 

When Steve arrived back expecting to see a passed out Danny there was an empty bed, and no Danny to be found. The bathroom door was open, so she wasn’t in there, he figured. He looked around the corner towards the nurses desk. “Where’d Danny go?” he asked the nurse. 

“Oh, I’m not sure, maybe she went back to class?” the nurse answered, of course she didn’t know where she went. 

“Right,” Steve walked back out into the halls, thankful for the lack of care at the school. “Danny!” He exclaimed in a hushed tone, peering around the hallways. Steve hated these halls so empty, it creeped him out. He continued to wander until he heard a muffled motherfucker coming from the girls bathroom. Steve wanted to keep walking by, he was really hoping it wasn’t Danny. He could hear another voice, gasping. Steve shut his eyes tight and turned back, slowly opening the door. 

“How about now?” He heard Danny yell, Steve rushed to the open stall, where he could see a pair of dirty converse peaking out. Danny sat on her knees, Tommy H. underneath her, her hand, bloodied knuckled, pressing his face into the toilet. 

“I’m sorry!” Gasped Tommy. 

“Danny!” Steve yelled. 

“Not now Steve!” She grumbled. 

“Danny knock it off! You’re gonna get in trouble!” 

She flushed the toilet, “They gave him a warning! I heard it!” 

Steve grabbed Danny under her arms and pulled her off of Tommy. She kicked and pulled away from Steve. “Danny, come on!” He held on tighter. Tommy attempted to stand but was too out of breath. 

“Let go Steve!” 

“I’m sorry Danny!” Tommy exclaimed, still gasping for breath, shaking the water out of his face. 

“Fuck you! That’s my warning,” she snapped. Steve dragged her out of the bathroom. Steve took her face in both hands, forcing her to look at him, he had never seen her so angry, out of breath and red. 

“C’mon, let's skip,” Steve didn’t think trying to calm her down at the moment was very smart. Danny and Steve easily slipped out the front doors into the parking lot. Steve led Danny to his car, opening the door for her and making sure she had put on her seatbelt, before he took a seat behind the wheel. “So,” he began. “Do you want to get ice cream or something?” Danny remained silent. “C’mon Danny,” he continued. “Can I buy a new record?” Steve egged on. Danny ever so slightly turned her head from staring out the window. “Alright, a new record it is,” Steve nodded, starting the car. 

Steve drove to Danny’s work, Budget Tapes & Records. Danny hadn’t said anything and Steve was smarter than trying to get her to. Danny roamed down the familiar aisles. She certainly took her time, despite knowing just about every record they had. Steve was a couple rows behind her, watching her flip through the records, her knuckles still had blood on them. She picked up a blue record, turned and started walking towards Steve, who quickly looked back down, flipping through the classical music, how’d I get over here? She’s gonna think I’m weird. Danny nonchalantly pushed the blue record into his hands, she still seemed seething with anger and was clearly chewing the inside of her cheek. Steve held the album, Ramones, Too Tough to Die. “Sounds about right,” Steve commented, smile fading when he saw Danny not amused by the joke. “Right, Ramones, you got it,” Steve turned, Danny on his heels. 

“Hey Danny,” the boy at the counter said, Danny didn’t respond. He looked at Steve, who recognized him from school, Levi Woods, he had dropped out last year when he figured out he wasn’t going to graduate. “Silent treatment, cool,” he whistled while he wrote down the record on a receipt. 

“She’s had a rough day,” Steve quietly explained, Danny glared at him. 

“Right, well, it seems you move on fast Danny,” he ignored Steve, now annoying Steve. Danny fixed her deadly glare on Levi. 

“Oh, we’re not, we haven’t, um here,” Steve spurted out, tossing some cash on the counter. 

Levi raised his eyebrows in judgment, “Sorry,” he chewed sarcastically. Steve took the record and started pushing Danny outside before she got in another fight. The pair got back in the car. 

“Levi Woods?” Steve smiled. 

“We made out once over the summer!” Danny broke her silence. “Now he acts like we got married or something! I had to change my shifts ‘cause of that asshole!” Danny threw her hands in the air and crossed her arms. 

“He’s such a weirdo though,” Steve laughed. 

“You dated Shelly Cross,” Danny retorted. 

“We did not date, okay?” Steve answered back, turning out of the parking lot. 

“You’re right sorry, you fucked Shelly Cross,” Danny replied, the word burning at Steve’s ears as he had never heard Danny talk like that. 

“Hey!” He said like some sort of mom scolding their kid, “I do not fuck , I-I make–” 

“Don’t! Don’t say it! I’ll go deaf if you finish that sentence Harrington!” Danny yelled, leaning towards him, ready to drive them off the nearest cliff if he kept talking. 

“Make love,” Steve finished, with a smile. 

“Ugh! Disgusting!” She pushed her hands to her ears. “You are so gross!” 

“‘Make love is gross? But not fuck? That’s so grotesque Henderson!” Steve exclaimed. “I am a gentleman, I’ll have you know.” 

“You’re disgusting is what you are,” Danny corrected. 

“Alright so then did you Munson make love or fuck?” He asked. 

“Fucked!” She answered as if it was obvious. 

“Nooo, you guys liked each other, so you made love.” 

“You were not there, and stop saying that!” 

Steve made a sudden mistake as she said that, picturing the two of them, Eddie and Danny. He pictured what he could only assume would be Eddie’s room, clothes everywhere, messy, metal posters. He then pictured them, big mistake, Danny on top of Eddie, close, holding on to each other, everything intertwined, sweaty . He imagined for a moment how soft Danny must have felt, he also wondered how inappropriate it would be to ask Eddie about it, he shook the thoughts away. 

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Steve finally said. “Mine or yours?” Steve asked. 

“Huh?” 

“Record listening party, obviously,” Steve retorted. 

“Oh uh, right,” Danny didn’t trust herself in Steve’s big empty house, or hers, as no one would be home. “Um, neither. Can we just keep driving around?” Danny asked. 

“Sure,” Steve replied sweetly.

Danny slept like a rock that night, out cold, drooling, one arm and leg over the side of her bed. Steve had dropped her off after a few hours of riding around, grabbing a burger, and talking shit towards one another. Dustin had been acting weird when she got home, barely paying attention to anything she said and said he would tell her later, when mom wasn’t around. She wasn’t too worried as Dustin and she kept most things a secret from Mrs. Henderson. Danny shoved a towel at the bottom of her locked door, opened a window and smoked some of Eddie’s stash, thinking too many thoughts of Steve. She fell asleep listening to her new record, she liked it, not as good as their earlier stuff, but certainly punk. 

Saturday, November 3rd, 1984

She slept in too, with barely any time to console her mom on their missing cat as she ran out the door to work. The day seemed to be entirely uneventful. Danny was back at home just after work, her mom was still out looking for Mews, and she had no idea where Dustin was. She was quickly showered and watching tv. After the sun had completely set, she heard a car pull up in the driveway, she assumed it was her mom. When nobody has come in Danny peaked through the window. She saw… Steve’s car? She pulled at the curtain looking further down, standing over the cellar door was Dustin and Steve? What the fuck are they doing, together, at the cellar? Danny rushed outside. Just as she stepped out onto the cold driveway Steve had just begun to walk down to the basement. 

“Hey!” Danny half whispered, yelled. Dustin whipped around, clutching at his chest. “What the hell are you doing?” Danny clung to herself, attempting to shield the brisk air. 

“Um, right, well,” Dustin fumbled, he looked down the stairs. “Steve?” Dustin ignored his sister.

A sudden flash of light hit the Henderson siblings. “Get down here,” Steve instructed. “Oh hey Danny,” he added. 

“Dustin Henderson, you better tell me what’s going on right now,” Danny said through gritted teeth as they walked down the stairs. Steve was holding some sort of slimy, grotesque shredded layer of skin with his nailed baseball bat. 

“Shit,” Dustin sighed. “Okay, okay, I may or may not have been accidentally raising a baby demogorgon for the past few days,” Dustin explained. 

“What?!” Danny yelped. 

“I thought I had discovered some new species!” Dustin defended. “I only found out when… when he ate Mews.” 

“It ate Mews? Moms gonna kill you,” Danny retorted. 

“Don’t you dare tell her,” he warned. 

“What do I look like, an idiot?” 

“Guys?” Steve interrupted. The two looked up to where he was pointing his bat. 

“Shit,” they said in unison when they saw the large hole in the corner of the room. Steve flashed his light into it. There was no telling where that thing had gone, but now it was on the loose. 

“What are we gonna do?” Steve asked. 

“C’mon let’s come up with a plan,” Dustin said, for some reason taking the lead on the two teenagers. But there was no argument as they followed Dustin inside to his room. 

As Dustin gathered a few materials, notebooks and pens, Steve looked Danny up and down. She was wearing a large t-shirt of some rock band he didn’t recognize with gray long underwear tucked into some wool socks.

“Nice outfit,” Steve commented quietly, while standing right next to her, too close, as usual. 

“Shut up,” she responded, folding her arms. 

“Do you always tuck your underwear into your socks?” He smiled. 

“Harrington,” she warned. 

“Yes Danielle?” he whispered with a smile. She glared at him.

“Ya know Danny’s room is right across the hallway if you’d like to take this in there,” Dustin commented without looking up, making both Steve and Danny’s cheeks glow red. 

 “Hey, how's your head?” Steve asked, letting his fingers graze over the newer bandage, making Danny move her head back. 

“What’s wrong with her head?” Dustin asked suddenly. Danny realized he hadn’t really seen her since Friday morning before school. Dustin’s eyes landed on the bandaid. “Whoa, what happened?” 

“Don’t worry about it Dustin,” she answered quickly. 

“Did you get into another fight?” Dustin asked. 

“Not exactly. Someone picked on me, I picked on them,” Danny shrugged. 

“Some dick pushed her into the lockers,” Steve explained. “Didn’t take long for Danny to have their head down the girls toilet though,” Steve said with a small smile. While he was pissed Danny had gotten hurt, he didn’t mind seeing her smashing Tommy’s head in the toilet. 

“Cool,” Dustin admired. 

“Forget it and don’t tell mom,” Danny pointed. Dustin lifted his hands in defense. 

Steve, Danny, and Dustin spent the next few hours coming up with a plan that included raw meat leading the demogorgon, or Dart, as Dustin was calling it to the junkyard, to take care of it? Kill it, more likely, but the teenagers were trying to be sensitive towards Dustin’s pet. Mrs. Henderson barely questioned what was going on when she finally arrived home, accepting the lie that Steve and Danny had a science project and were using some of Dustin’s books for their research. After a basically completed plan Dustin was fading and his eyes fluttering. Danny got him into bed, turning off the lights and leading herself and Steve into her room. 

“Here we are again,” Steve sighed, gently closing the door behind him. “What are we going to do this time?” Steve asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep, and I’d feel better,” she paused looking up at Steve, taking a step back and sitting on her bed. “I think I’d feel better if you stayed, in here, with me,” Danny didn’t want to admit that she was scared a baby demogorgon could break through her window any second, but she was, and Steve understood. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve reassured, taking a seat next to her, arms naturally wrapping around her. Steve almost gushed at the feel of her skin underneath his hands. She normally wore that big army jacket, her bare arm felt hot to the touch. 

“Did you get a hold of Nancy yet?” She asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

“Um no, Dustin got to me before I could, but apparently she wasn’t home, neither was Mike I guess,” Steve sighed. 

“That’s probably not good,” Danny responded. “With her and Jonathan gone, and this demogorgon out there, I have a feeling that this weekend isn’t going to end very well,” she sighed. 

“Yeah,” he let out a heavy sigh. “It’s gonna be a shit weekend,” Steve chuckled. He naturally pushed his face into the nook of Danny’s neck, he felt her take a deep breath in with a shiver. “Are you cold?” he mumbled. 

“Mhm,” she hummed, staying still. Steve took hold of her comforter pulling it over her and crashing her and himself into the bed. He kept his arms around her, his head on her shoulder. Danny could feel his breath on her neck and shook as she felt his hand slither down her arm, his fingers intertwining with her own, lifting her hand to take a closer look at it. His fingers tracing along her own. 

“Oh my god,” Steve suddenly laughed. 

“What?” Danny whipped her head towards Steve, bumping her forehead against his, “Ow,” she commented quietly. 

“Your hands,” he replied simply. 

“What about them?” She scowled. 

“Your fingers are so small,” he smiled at her. Danny gave Steve a look of confusion. “Look,” he grabbed at her fingers, holding his own next to his. “Your middle finger is the size of my pinky,” he laughed. 

“You’re an asshole Steve Harrington,” she laughed back, taking back her hand to flip him off. Steve gave her an exaggerated gasp, as she gave his chest a soft smack.  

“Mhm yeah,” Steve replied, closing his eyes and letting out a heavy groan, “Goodnight Danny,” he mumbled with a smile. 

“Goodnight Steve,” she answered back, letting her eyes flutter shut, into a light sleep. 

#i.a.m #stanger things #steve harrington #joe kerry #henderson!oc #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #steve harrington x henderson!oc

[therummonster]

here's some art! below is gonna be me rambling ^w^

angst rambles, warnings for: mind fuckery, angst, memory loss, possible feelings of helplessness, mutilation maybe, sororicide, and more angst :}

side note, this is written as a script type thing, and meant more for people who are focusing on unicorn mann and ryan. enjoy!

two universes, this is gonna be gore on crack. we take the "100 days as" series, specifically the ones with the slaughter houses run by Farmer Unicorn, then we take the friends series and put that in the same universe!

let me explain. Ryan in the friends universe has the spooky scary spell book of dark magic. easy to transition into body stealing shapeshifter, especially if that same child is fighting a war and suddenly needs to do something super risky.

Unicorn Mann however, he's not a hero. no no no, he's something SOOO much more oh no. he's the terrifying boss of Unicorp. as in, fuck with him and you'll be on the other end of his boomstick for a few seconds before you're a bit of everywhere.

if i decided to draw this guy, it would be holding a minigun one handed level of "oh no no no no no-" vibes.

anyways, Ryan gets 100 days to get out or complete his objective in a farm before he gets found out. usually the objective is just escape, but there have been a few times where he had to destroy a location. such as the pet zoo and lamb chop diner. {breaking point!!}

the important order to see how messed up this can get is the first four, chicken, cow, pig, sheep.

that sheep is special, like the "ohhhh nooo..." of sheep. because that's bluey the sheep! not to be confused with bluey the wolf in this series.

after that event i head canon that he had to take memory loss pills because he couldn't function with out breaking down. {the sheep one made me go "yo should someone check on him? is.. is he alright? my goodness gravy..."}

but he starts acting tired and he keeps forgetting more stuff. and Ryan? oooo boy. the sheep farm destroyed both of them mentally...

Ryan stopped trying to save the other creatures in the slaughter houses, because the stakes were literally rigged for him to be the one to escape in the sheep co-op slaughter house.

the pink sheep he was doing the co-op slaughter house with literally 180 no scoped into lava when it died. Ryan got to witness that through a window of glass after trying to convince them that he'd find another way to save them.

more info: Unicorn Mann doesn't have magic, because "Santa Claus" has his wish magic. but Farmer Unicorn still knows how exactly to deal with it and keep him from using the magic, he also knows the consequences. as in, he got wished OUT OF EXISTENCE BY THE END OF THE EPISODE.

but he still came back, showing that being wished out of life is temporary. {this gives me more angst ideas, but that's on a different tangent that could probably get me shot.}

the butchers are horrific, they are supposed to be humans but it seems more like horrible accidents that wear bags over their heads to hide the fact they are bloody walking meat. and no, that's not the british slang bloody.

and i almost forgot to talk about the bosses. such as, Gertrude, Burtha, Big Sheepus, Bently, Honky Horse, BIG FEEESH, Big Fish, Weeper, Borbav, Endie, Ms McMuscle, Buff Zombie Boss, Big Skelerton, Crazed Goat Man, Snow Man, Ghast, McCrushy, Chief Enforcer, General Jim, Elf, Chargin' Chuck, Mecha Bat, Mecha Spider, Mecha-Spider Prime

some of them are well cared for, some of them are robots, others even unicorn mann in his distorted state goes "yeah this bitch crazy, anyways! you're the sacrifice right now!"

now to what i hope will be not me rambling about the farms.

Ryan being a very unstable and cold being barely holding it together, Unicorn on the verge of a break down. Ryan shifts back into human, Unicorn Mann sees, and is just flooded with memories.

he's fine. {i definitely don't like to pull this move when he's about to kill Ryan by blowing his head off.}

as an extra little side bit, the pink sheep being a combo of Pink and Kara :} cause kara is a ram, and pink is pink! so why not have a horrific realization that your pseudo sister and one of your friends is dead and it's your fault?

this is all just ramblings and ideas, thank cheese stick for dragging me back here and getting me to reveal the fact i have this despite the anxieties.

#unicorn mann #farmer unicorn #ryguyrocky #therum creation

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

Final part of my long Analysis of the Hello Puppets midnight show trailer!

I copy and paste from the 2nd part because I'm very tired and I still need to add the tags, but also this is important info

First and foremost, please check the prior parts for congruency and seeing other interesting details and stupid jokes I added to this:

Part 1

Part 2

Here's a quick important note that you need to read first before diving into this long messy post:

TW: Scary imagery, demonic character, blood, saws, bear traps, gore

If you see this TW this will signify a trigger warning. I'll try to give some space to avoid individuals who do not which to see it time to skip it. SAFE means that you can read this part ^^

SPOILERS!!! is a new addition to those who do not want to be spoiled over certain puzzles presented in the BETA. END!!! means they are done

Majority of pictures are from the trailer, others will be credited to the sources along with a link)

Heavily suggest that you watch the trailer first because we're gonna get spoilers

Without further ado let's continue!

Nick....why you look as if you ate at Taco Bell?!/j

I actually told this joke to @official-crucified-mortimer (I'm just tagging my friends because I love them)

Also.

A very creeping painting of your puppet staring at you?

Put a spiderweb on it :D

Ok, jokes aside. I speculate that this is a strategy to deal with the puppets. Put party string on the posters so they cannot jump and attack you. I actually never thought it could be used that way.

Also, it looks like this is a new poster type. Looks pretty darn weird but Daisy has a similar pose

I also forgot party string would be an item in this game so....

yeah

I also noticed that in the trailer (spiderweb string thingy moment) we are carrying a poster for the game. I can't tell if it's the Mountain episode or Mike Masters. Maybe is a new one, but I find it curious that we have to carry one. Maybe it's for a puzzle in Nick's level or something.

Here's a far glance of Riley's map

I wonder if we're going to a different part of the studio or a floor. I never really got how the studio was built. Also, what is up with the blue and red light?

Stop it and got it by accident. I love it

also

HE HAS A SAW

TW: For saws and bear trap

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Two things I want to mention.

I think we got to see this on the BETA (not sure) it is in fact a Riley's level

The task we got

So this room actually gives me anxiety because it looks like the closing walls type of puzzle. I actually wonder how the hell did Riley got so many saws

but more importantly this:

It looks like we are going to have to solve dangerous puzzles to unlock secret rooms. This is quite cool tbh

Quick side joke!

I honestly love how pretty darn weird Daisy's traps are.

Also the fact that she placed a cupcake-

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SAFE!

@sarilolla did mention, if I remember correctly, that perhaps we could get some audio logs

I found this icon while checking for things I missed

This is going to be interesting!

TW: Gore, Scary imagery, demonic looking character, implied murder

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I did see it on the trailer, and this was actually the first thing I stopped to look at see at.

First things first, I love the drawing! Wonder who the artist is and I wonder if we are going to get more pictures like this from the other characters

Secondly, if you look up you will see that the battery task is also here

I have a small speculation about this:

I believe that the battery task may be for the final levels of each of the characters. My best guess is that each time we play the gallery, we are going to see the handeemen look more and more demonic as the game becomes harder.

This actually scared me a bit and it is well done!

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SAFE!

My best guess, is that this is going to be a scene short for the game. Based on the pose and the fact that we can see the puppet's doors. I can assume this may be a jumpscare

Aperantly someone broke the collectable we got! I blame Owen >:[

Also, we get back the Mort-in-the-box for the first game! Cool reuse of assets and it's a bit weird seeing Mortimer's later design in the prequel game

Also

The good boi

Quick glimpse of a very important escene

I am not sure if this is a glance at the final level of the game (my speculation you maybe play against all the puppets (including Mortimer) or Mortimer is the final boss or this was teaching you the mechanics of the game

I also just wanted to show how one of the items suppose to work

Poor Daisy :[

The safety ABC!

Always

Be

Careful

This is quite hilarious. I applaud them.

Another cutscene revealed in the Trailer it's just Mortimer with the girl as his hosts.

There is nothing particularly scary about this place

Plz visit any time soon :D

Alright, those were all the details I could find in the trailer. Jokes aside, I'm going to be a lil serious in this ending conclusion.

I thought it would be great to address a quick cool observation I found when listening to the dialogue of the game. I like how there's a hit of a demonic voice when the characters are upset (excluding Mortimer)

I just thought it was a nice simple detail added

I do find curious Daisy and Nick's lines in the trailer.

Daisy demanding Owen to hug her seems strange to me, but also makes me think that perhaps she is one of the least evil characters. She is still the sweetest towards you as well as Nick. Makes me wonder if they actually do have a conscience or reflect their "in-show personality"

Regarding, Nick Nack's lines, outside the jokes of Daddy Issues

I do find interesting his desperation to get his father love. He appears alongside Mortimer to call Owen their father, it is a very curious fact about why Daisy doesn't

Riley is quite proud to admit Owen, out all people, is her father.

We did see a glimpse of Nick fighting over his instincts of hurting Owen in the game over scenes of the demo, so we do know that he appears to be the most emotional and the lesser evil of the four.

However, I found that his line

"LOOK AT ME, FATHER! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!"

It appears that Nick doesn't receive too much attention or wishes to be seen more. He did sound like a little toddler during that scene, but it did make me wondered why would he want that attention and why did the devs chose that line over.

I went back and decided to listen to each introduction Mortimer gave to each of the Handeemen, just curious to see if he happened to hint favoritism. I noticed this.

Out of the three, the longest time Mortimer talks about a Handeemen appears to be Riley's introduction, and she was the first

The shortest time he takes to introduce one of the members appears to be Nick, and he was the last.

His descriptions go to a bit detailed to just a basic overview.

Riley is the only one that Mortimer mentions what she can actually do. He just mentions that you can help Daisy bake a pie, and that Nick is a Thespian and an artist

He describes Nick in the vaguest way possible. He doesn't really mention his personality (although Mortimer says Daisy is the sweetest and harmless)

My best guess, this is either just a coincidence or another clue to get to know how Mortimer may have some preference over the Handeemen.

It appears that Riley is the favorite, my best guess is that she's the most cruel and evil in comparison to Nick and Daisy

Since Nick appears to be the lesser evil, Mortimer may favor him the least.

I also wanted to add a small speculation regarding Owen's character. Wondering more about some of the stuff he has seen on the trailer, I was thinking he's more of a morally gray character .He has done both good and bad but appears to be acting more for selfish reasons rather than heroic which I find interesting to see.

Overall, I'm eager to see how the midnight show will be and what facts will be given

Hope you all enjoy this long analysis ^^

Feel free to add to this.

#tw: saws #tw: gore #tw: scary imagery #trailer spoilers #tw: implied/referenced murder #hell #riley ruckus #mortimer handee #Nick Nack #Daisy Danger #Hello Puppets the midnight show #This took me a while #glad it's done #Now time to add the links #hello puppets #tw: spoilers

[mathyna]

Welcome to my humble art hole 

Hello and welcome to my art blog that I forget to update all the time :)

*Please expand*

Requests are: Closed

Note to requests : Just do not send Oc x Oc + READ and STICK to fandoms that are listed bellow.. I will ignore anything that is not listed.

~About me~

Love to sketch and am lazy to render

Constantly tired

Can't sleep (record: 5 days without sleep)

Suffering from morning moronity

Bookworm and nerd

I prefer to learn things by f*cking around and finding out

Ya like Math? No? Then physics shall do. - if that also doesn't spark joy do not worry :) I'll find something else to annoyingly educate you with ❤️

Have been called dumb blonde my whole life so I dyed my hair red - I love that color

Misanthropic (Tolerate friendos)

Simping constantly for way older men (and women) than I am

I get lost in everything and everywhere so I´m sorry if I somehow don't respond to your dms :)

My opinions are very VERY controversial, that's why I prefer being quiet

Suffering from severe depression and social anxiety

*Rules of my hole*

Be nice kiddos, nobody likes a cup of rude in the morning

You can have an opinion, but be RESPECTFUL - mind the consequences of your actions :)

I am part of the LGBTQ+ community but do NOT start anything about it here- I´m tired of seeing it everywhere and overly sensitive people picking bones on my opinions

NO political debates here - no thank you, I have enough IRL and again - OPINIONS can differ

Do NOT start any fuss in general - just don´t

If requesting, stick to the fandoms listed at the end of the post (I can make exceptions, but I must like the designs themselves)

Feel free to ask anything

///*REQUEST RULES*\\\

WILL:

Draw character x character (Ships - excluding OC x OC)

Fanart of a character (Fandom can be chosen by the requester)

Draw OC x cannon

Draw your OC in general

Mystical beasts (Dragons etc.)

Redesigns (Anything you want - exp. character, character outfit)

Heavy armor and mech (I am still learning so it will not be perfect)

NSFW - (Heavy gore and 18+ sexual content will be posted on my Twitter)

WILL NOT:

Fetish art (Sorry but no)

Full render (Unless I feel like it)

Yandere art (Mate that shit is just nu-uh)

Minor NSFW (Bruh get out of here)

OC x OC (Got too many of requests and basically I'm not gonna say no to every basic design that does not spark joy to me)

FANDOM LIST:

Valorant

Elden ring/ Dark Souls / Demon Souls

Bloodborne

Harry Potter

The Hobbit/ Lord of the Rings

League of Legends

Genshin Impact

Encanto

Resident Evil

Sonic the hedgehog

Boku no Hero Academia

Kung Fu Panda

Pokemon

Team Fortress 2

Undertale

My little Pony

Scp foundation

BONUS:

I do creature designs and redesigns of Ocs in my spare time, so if u feel like, you can ask for that.

Bonus note :

I will be opening commisions soon, so be sure to spread my art as I am currently trying to help my family with finances. Thank you!

#welcome to my blog #valorant #elden ring #welcome to my page #fandom #harry potter #hobit #league of legends #dark souls #genshin impact #lord of the rings #Encanto #resident evil village #resident evil #sonic the hedgehog #boku no hero academia #kung fu panda #Pokemon #Team fortress 2 #Undertale #My little Pony #SCP #requests open #reqs open #huff..too much text

[theytoldmethatwritingishard]

Dickriding on Gira like that is insane. Idk how old are you but get a job fr.

So, I want to call you out here just a little bit. The problem is not that I want to ride Giras dick. (She draws great dick and I still don't want to ride that either.) It's that I've reached my absolute fucking LIMIT with the way that 'antis' within the fandom treat artists and authors that do anything they don't like. The sheer disconnect from how the real world works and how y'all engage with fandom content is truly mind boggling, and more than that it's actively upsetting now. The way that the 'anti' movement likes to only go after larger creators? Driven by jealousy and clout-chasing and trying to find the only edge that they can peel up to get at someone. Inevitably, harassment comes first from the Anti camp. From the 'Think of the Children' camp. From people who are so interested in handing their agency over to the loudest voice in the room that they can't really filter their own experiences, and rely on other people to do it for them. It's also the Antis that inevitably have gore and cp folders that they open up to send to people they don't like. Normal people don't do that shit.

Child, I was there in the days before FF.net. I was there during Strikethrough. I was absolutely devastated to wake up one day to find my whole online world just gone, because some extremist group decided that I was 'problematic'. My crime? Being in a CSA survivor support group. I haven't interacted with any survivor support group since, because that's how people like you go after people like me. Anon, you're not interested in 'stopping harassment', you're interested in riding bitch on the crusade. I was there when Deviantart cracked down on NSFW art and then later embraced it as a cash machine. I was THERE when Ao3 was batted around and then planted in the ground. I have had a tumblr in one form or another since 2012. I had a fucking geocities handle. I am in fact the Fandom Old that you hear about all the time. I survived the Dramione wars. I survived the Fifty Shades discourse. I watched as the Homestuck fandom cannibalized itself and then turned its bleeding empty maw onto Voltron, and in that bacchanal of violent rhetoric, 'Antis' were born. I was there when Marvel went from Iron Man to what it is now. I own a copy of Shonen Jump USA vol. 1. I got it when I was a 6th grader, from the grocery store it was sold in. I'm from the fucking Transformers fandom, you bloodless toothless infant. I was there when people like you decided that it was okay to be cruel, instead of just wandering past what they don't like. Child you are not entitled to an opinion, until you are ready to come to the table in good faith. Not a single Anti I know is willing to see past their own megachurch-style 'might makes right' and exclusionary fear of anything not their own. You walk in footsteps well worn, and I am so fucking tired of being hunted. So I'm going to continue pulling your aggro, because it seems like those of use who are professionals at shipping need to finally try to do something about the poison you're dropping in our well. Die fucking mad about it, and I'll see you in hell when you do.

[captainrandomobsessions]

I did a thing

Instead of working on one of my other plot bunnies, I made a new one a few weeks ago because that's how we roll here. I might continue working on it but here's what I have so far. Also, no, I still can't draw and quite frankly I refuse to learn at this point. I have started throwing money at artists and they're very kind people! But these were made via Doll Divine's Gothic Heroine Dress-Up Game so yay!

TW: Gore

Felicia's been acting odd in the days leading up to her wedding. It's supposed to be the happiest day of her life but her loved ones are growing concerned about her. She's always tired and when she's awake she's distant and thirsty. She talks about smells and sounds that aren't there and she's incredibly irate. The wedding party goes to the venue early. The venue is Rome's old estate, a bit run down but still beautiful. The wedding party spends the day setting up and trying to keep an eye on Felicia and go to bed.

When night falls, Felicia gets up and follows a straggling servant out to the gardens and kills her. The screams wake up Chiara and Ludwig (might change it to Monika because it can always be gayer). I'm not sure if the servant managed to scream before being killed or if Feli screamed upon realizing what she's done but either way, Ludwig and Chiara manage to get her inside.

Felicia very nearly screams again upon seeing her reflection in the mirror. There's pacing and panicking and tears. Surprisingly though, Chiara and Ludwig come to the conclusion that they must hide the body and the wedding must go on (this is totally in character and not because it just occurred to me that I didn't nail down how they'd react so weirdly timed solidarity it is)

After a long night of hiding a corpse and trying to figure out just what the fuck happened, the trio get up early to prepare for the wedding. "Are you sure this will work?" Felicia whimpers as Chiara prepares to curl her hair.

"It has to." Chiara's voice is shaking. Be it exhaustion or lingering fear, neither sister comments on it.

The lovely couple manages to say their "I do's" without too much trouble. No one seems to notice that the bride is a bit pale and keeps standing in the shade. No one seems to notice how tense she might be, or how she doesn't smile with her mouth open. (though now that I think about it, someone had to notice that Feli isn't smiling how she usually does right? I feel like she has a very natural and 'iconic' smile.)

And lastly, as the celebration goes on into the night, we have Chiara going down to Rome's wine cellar to get more wine. Antonio (her guest? Her date? Her husband? Fiance? Idk) insisted that he should get it. She knows the cellar well enough and she could get the wine just fine.

I couldn't make an image of this part but I imagine that someone had climbed into the cellar and is hiding there. I don't know how they got in but they in there. And Chiara startles them and this person attacks her because Chiara will never be unscathed in my fics.

#hetalia #aph hetalia #nyo!italy #nyo!romano #vampires and werewolves baybee #plot bunnies #my shenanigans #doll maker

[minsyal]

The Fugitive (Finding Home), Pt. 1

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

Backpacking through Eastern Europe was not a top priority on your “to do” list. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Being one to preplan everything, you were completely caught off guard when your roommate sprung the idea of the trip out of the blue. You roommate, Jezebel Haine, was your first and only roommate from college onward. All legs, she was one of the stars of the track team but was most certainly not one of the brightest shining ones. She was considerably dim-witted, fanatical, and had a booming over-the-top personality that scared every potential boyfriend who had the disservice of meeting her. There were times, though, that she was rather endearing. Her childlike sense of self and emotional drivers consistently put her at a crossroads between what everyone else was doing and what she should be doing; she was, and always will be, a follower.

After four years of becoming “the bestest of friends,” you had a hard time imagining such a hard shift either into another roommate or living alone. Plus, her parents funded most everything she did and, in turn, funded the apartment the two of you shared.

“It’s an amazing opportunity!” She insisted, waving her hands in a simple manner as she rose from the condensed cushion of the leather-clad couch. “Think about it.” Gathering your hands in hers like a 20’s actress who had just met the man of her dreams, she pulled the bundle to her chest. “We frolic through the European countryside, it’s golden hour. My skin looks absolutely gorgeous… yours too, of course. The sun is just about to set, but alas!” She let out a dramatic gasp, removing one of her hands to cover her mouth. “It’s growing dark out!”

“That’s what happens when the sun sets.” You noted, causing her to drop the act for a moment only to immediately go back into character.

“We hear the crunching of leaves and twigs all around us as if something…” she drew close and lowered her voice to a whisper, “sinister is coming. Out of no where we’re ambushed! By what, I’m not sure. Then,” her eyes became glassy as she lay a delicate hand to her forehead, “two absolute studs… and I’m talking big bulging muscles, gorgeous trendy hair, captivating eyes… really everything a simple girl could ask for… seemingly drop from the sky! We’re saved!” She throws your hands into the air as if they’d fall like confetti. Drawing both her arms in, she sways back and forth in a waltz of one. “We’d be married by the next day! Hell, maybe we’d even end up as princesses.”

Oh, how utterly wrong she was.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.” You groaned, haughtily holding your chin up while feeling your spirits low. A few miles back, on an asphalt road that quickly turned to dirt, sat the dingy red rental truck with a blown out engine and a deflating tire. With no cell service and the last town being over 100 miles back, your only choice was to walk.

“Don’t blame me!” Jezebel stopped walking, feet falling flat to the ground as she stomped her foot in a childish manner. “I,” her lip quivered as all the anger held in her body dissipated, “I just wanted to have a fun time with you.” Big tears flowed from her eyes quickly after finishing her proclamation, leaving smearing black lines down her face from the eyeliner she insisted was necessary in the Romanian countryside. God, if her parents weren’t funding this trip, you’d throw a fit for your money back.

“Jess, just,” reaching backward, you fished a rag from your backpack, “don’t cry. That’s not going to make this better.” Sniffling, she accepted the rag and wiped her eyes, further smearing black all over her face. You couldn’t help but feel a shred of sympathy for her. “Let’s just keep going. No use in wasting daylight. I really don’t want to get caught out here in the dark.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?”

“I’m sure the next town will have some sort of inn or hotel. At the very least, they’ll have directions to the nearest city.”

After another five miles of walking, the sun was beginning to set and no gorgeous studs were waiting to save you. The blazing yellow ball inched slowly beyond the horizon. Its warming rays that had kept the snow from freezing the two of you in the day crept down below the snow peaked mountains that were nestled in the distance. Shadows began dancing between the trees, sending the forest into a theater of silent performers. The dirt road that was once large enough for two cars was now only a walking path so slim that Jezebel had to follow on your heels. Every now and again you were reeled back by the piece of rope that she had attached to your backpack that was firmly gripped in her hand. She claimed it made her feel safer.

“You think those two hunks are going to come save us now?” You joked, attempting to make light of this dark situation.

“I wish.” She huffed, frustration evading her voice as exhaustion took center stage.

Flickering light caught your eye. Hues of yellow and red mingled together in the distance, the outlines of rooftops and smoke-filled chimneys littered the ground below. “I think that’s a village.”

Another mile of downhill travel was all it took to reach the place where the once distant flickering of torches and lanterns grew into the quiet streets of a cluttered settlement. There was no clear indication of movement once you stepped foot in the village; the only evidence of any life came in the form of fresh boot prints, livestock, and the ever-blazing lanterns. Jezebel was all to happy to release your makeshift leash from her fingers, trotting mindlessly by to examine the street corners and homes. Your eyes continued wandering up the rooftops, finally landing upon the eerie looming castle situated on the mountainside above.

From around the bend, you heard Jezebel screech.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You threw caution to the wind, quickly rounding the corner to scold her like a parent would to a misbehaving child. “You don’t know if these people are violent or not. We can’t just go parading ourselves into the town center.”

“I think they’re violent.” She mustered the shaky words. Her hands covered her eyes and the majority of her face as she backed away from whatever had caused her distress.

“What?” The unpleasant squelch of snow beneath your feet caused your attention to draw downward. Dark snow surrounded your boot, an unnatural red hue stained the pure white. Gaze moving upward, your chest restricted feeling as if it had crushed inward on itself. The putrid smell finally fell upon your nostrils as you backed away from the scene. Severed animal heads hung lazily above you, their tongues flopping from their opened mouths.

“I want to go home.” Jezebel sobbed, rasping her cries into her cupped hand. Shaking her head as if to knock this moment from her brain, her short-lived façade of curiosity gave way to her immediate feeling of impending dread.

“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Jess. Just, calm down.”

A low grumble had you standing further on edge, if that was possible at this point. The sound was clear as day and was anything but human. You weren’t even sure a human could get to an octave so low without the help of technology. Eyes darting upward once more, a chill ran from your shoulders to your toes.

Hauntingly yellowed eyes lingered upon the two of you. The beast-like figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, outlined like a ghost. It looked to be a man, but also anything but a man in the same sense. Its mouth was parted, baring old rotted teeth that looked to have dried blood caked between its gums. Its hands were bloodied as well, small cuts were painted across its forearms only hidden by the rags that clung to its chest.

Before you could process the situation, Jezebel let out another yelp. In an instant, the beast lunged down from its perch, landing with a ground shaking thud nearly five feet before you. “No!” Jezebel’s open palm collided with the space between your shoulder blades as she pushed you toward the monster. The last thing you saw was her backpack falling to the ground as she began running toward one of the homes. You landed face-first in the snow, groaning as all the air in your lungs were forced out. The beast snarled, once again showing its teeth as it hunched down to your level. This was, most certainly, not the way you envisioned dying. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist; this is myth, this isn’t real. It all felt like bad dream gone worse that you couldn’t wake from.

“Pesky creatures, aren’t they?” A new voice called out as the horrendous sound of metal crushing bone and muscle slithered through your ears. The disgusting feeling of gore instantly trickled down your hands. “Please,” the voice continued, “feel free to thank me anytime.”

A moment later, the stranger let out a scoff with the squishy suction of whatever he had used to quiet the monster. The tap of a boot on your elbow finally prompted you to uncover your eyes. “Or don’t.”

“I,” you started, opening and closing your mouth multiple times unable to find the right words, “thank you.”

“Oh.” He tiled the stiff rim of his frayed hat back, exposing a pair of circular sunglasses perched upon his nose. “Foreigners, eh?”

“Yeah, um.” You gathered yourself, finally pushing up to stand on your feet. “We got lost.”

“And ended up here, no doubt.” A stifled chuckle left his lips as he tilted his hat back in place and swung whatever he used to kill the beast over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”

Without another word, the stranger sauntered off with a backward wave of his hand. “Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.”

“Y/n!” Jezebel’s shrill voice called as she returned with a rather confused villager. He held a shotgun with both of his hands, Jezebel shone a flashlight in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” The villager moved forward with extreme caution after peering around you dumbfoundedly seeing the crumpled body.

“I’m fine, no thanks to her.” You spat, anger swelling in your throat causing a particular acidity to your words.

“All of you! Inside this instant.” A matronly holler came from behind Jezebel and the villager. “You know Miranda’s protection only runs so far as we grow closer to this time.”

Who is Miranda and, more importantly, who was the man who saved you?

The home you were ushered into was on the outskirts of town. It was one of the larger estates given the fact that some people seemed to live in one-room shacks. Upon entering, you were greeted with the warm glow of yellow light trickling in from what looked to be a formal living room. The sweet aromas of honeyed tea wafted through the air, drawing further in as the woman led the three of you deeper into the home. What was worse? You pondered. Being killed by that beast or potentially being murdered by the inhabitants of this home? You couldn’t decide. Thus far, the two gave no indication of malice.

“Please, sit.” The woman pulled out two of the chairs at her table, the wood scratching against the floor. “I’ll fetch the tea.”

Jezebel was so brainless. She smiled at you as if she hadn’t just offered you up as a midnight snack. Surely there was no hamster running on that squeaky track that powered her.

“What was that thing?” You turned to the man who was now seated to your right. “The monster.”

The man ignored your question, instead grabbing a piece of rounded bread from the plate at the center of table. Slathering butter on it, he looked to you. “How’d you kill it?”

“I didn’t.” You frowned, recalling the mysterious man who saved your life without even dropping his name. The villager raised his brows and kicked his foot up on the table. He was waiting for more information. “Some man came out of nowhere. He had some hammer-like weapon.”

As soon as he processed the words, his foot fell from the table and he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. You could smell the distinguishable bite of alcohol percolate from his lips. “Did he wear glasses? A hat?”

“He did.” The words slowly drifted from your mouth. “Hair to about here.” You motioned to the halfway point of your neck.

“Adelina,” the man called, presumably to the woman who guided you inside. He got up quickly, rushing to the other room leaving you and Jezebel alone.

“What the hell is going on here?” You whispered in a harsh tone, leaning forward to get closer to her. “Is this not weird at all to you?”

“I think they’re nice people.” Jezebel responded at full volume without a second of thought.

“That’s coming from someone who tried to feed their supposed best friend to a monster.”

“I was buying us time to get help.”

“Help? I almost died!”

“But you didn’t.”

“When we get back to the U.S. I never want to speak to you again.” You seethed. How could she be this bad? You knew there were a few… a considerable amount of screws missing from Jezebel, but how in God’s green earth does she justify her actions at this point? The thought of it accompanied by her dazed and empty stare only fueled the fire of anger more.

“Dear,” the woman, who you now knew was Adelina, reentered the room accompanied by the man with a tray of cups and a kettle in her hands. She set a delicate china glass in front of you, softly filling it with a reddish colored liquid that she assured you was Celestial Seasonings, a tea imported from Africa. “I hear that you’ve met Lord Heisenberg.” Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a warm smile that only sent another wave of dread through your body. There was something so alluring about this woman, yet so sinister.

“Lord, who?”

Adelina stiffened, craning her neck to the side as she plastered a forced smile upon her lips once more. You had upset her, that much was obvious. “One of the four Lords that rule here alongside our dear Mother Miranda.” She explained, pushing the cup of tea closer to your body. Jezebel had already finished her first glass. Warily, you lifted the cup in your hand and allowed the warm water to heat your frozen body. An elongated finger pointed to the framed painting that hung to the wall. “Mother Miranda protects us here.”

Mother Miranda. You could only focus on the image of the woman silhouetted by six black wings and a halo outlining her head. Her eyes were indistinguishable behind the raven-like mask that clung to her face. Adorned in a black garb, she looked to be a holy figure in this town. But like Adelina, something just wasn’t right with Miranda.

The unsettling reverb of crickets and cicadas chirping grew louder and louder with each passing hour. You counted the seconds between waves of mass chorus; so far, it was roughly thirty seconds between each bleating scream of their nightly tune. You couldn’t sleep. Despite the somewhat comforting, but entirely unsettling welcome given by Adelina and Marion, you couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal in the tiny cupboard room they had given you. A curious thought tickled the back of your mind, willing you to remain as alert as possible after an exhausting day of hiking; where had they put Jezebel? Not that you particularly cared at this point. After the attack she had done a 180, dropping all suspicion of malice in this village. She simply flushed the pictures of hanging heads and wild beasts from her memory. You sometimes envied her lackadaisical memory accompanied by a fanatical view of the world. Living blissfully ignorant, especially in a situation like this, seemed to serve her best.

After a small dinner of fish that smelled of ammonia, of which you politely picked at, Adelina insisted the two of you stay the night. “The beasts will return!” She exclaimed, holding a firm hand over the intricately carved wood of the doorframe. “Early tomorrow we can arrange for a car to pick you up from the next town over.” Hushed murmurs climbing up from the cracked floors pulled you from your thought. The voices spoke in an incomprehensible argument.

“I’d quite like to keep...” the words faded in and out.

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous...”

“What if....”

The floor spoke a soft squeak from beneath your feet as you shifted to get closer to the voices. Their conversation stopped, and you waited with bated breath for it to continue.

“We have to offer someone up tomorrow.” It was Adelina.

“I know, I know.” Marion sounded frustrated. “But you know Mother Miranda prefers only the purest. How are we supposed to know if either of them are-”?

The words faded once more as the two moved from room to room. Walking on the sides of your feet, you followed. Peeking around the corner, your eyes landed on Adelina and Marion illuminated by a flickering fire. They stood close to one another, keeping their tones low.

“Clearly, we offer the frumpy one. Take a look at her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s unexperienced.” Adelina snickered, taking a seat on the worn couch with her back to you. “She wouldn’t fit in here anyway.”

“The dumb one would get along nicely with our son.”

“I agree.”

A knock at the front door sent a shiver of adrenaline down your spine. Quickly scrambling to hide, you took in a deep breath as Marion passed by with his shotgun in hand. From the parted door, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Had it really been that long already?

“Are you sure she’s pure?” The new man stood in the doorway rushed past Marion, looking in the direction of the room they had put you in.

“I suppose we could check.” Adelina called, rising to join the others. “The both of them had that tea. They shouldn’t wake until the ceremony later today.”

“Is she in there?”

“Yes, the other one is upstairs.”

“Let’s check this one first.”

With heavy footsteps falling upon the rotting floorboards of the somewhat dilapidated home, you slunk further into the shadows of the room behind you. The glint of something metal caught your attention; a small handgun sat perfectly on a dresser as if set there intentionally for you to find. Holding your breath, you crept forward to it. You’d never shot a gun in your life, but you knew the basics... both hands, check for ammo, rack the slide, pull the trigger. At least, that’s what the movies told you.

“Out of bed so soon, are we?” The soft voice turned malevolent as Adelina appeared in the doorway of the room. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you.” She motioned to the gun that was aimed rather unskillfully for her chest.

“What the fuck is going on in this village?” You spoke with purpose now, tone wavering slightly as Marion stepped behind his wife.

“You don’t understand things around here, girl.” Adelina spat, moving aside as Marion began charging into the room. The loud blast of the gun echoed from the walls of the home followed by a harsh curse and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. You had shot Marion in the leg; he’d live.

“No,” you started, re-racking the slide as Adelina’s other friend approached wielding a similar gun to your own. Adrenaline washed over your nervous system, your hands shook violently, but you attempted to remain composed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t normal! Tell me what’s going on now or,” your eyes trailed down to Marion who was attempting to control the flow of blood from his wound.

“You wouldn’t.” She laughed bitterly.

“Like hell, I wouldn’t.” You exclaimed, training the gun onto her. “Now tell me, what’s happening here.”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Adelina’s friend’s words were the last thing you heard before your ears rang and the sting of a bullet burnt white hot in your shoulder. You weren’t sure if your gun ever went off again.

Despite being tied, bathed, dressed, and currently sitting on a freezing alter-of-sorts, you still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. A crowd of villagers surrounded from the south, all carrying on with a rumble of conversation. Adelina shot daggers at you, Marion as well, from a small, inclined hill at the edge of the crowd. The clothes you wore were your own, she had fished through your backpack claiming that it was of no use to waste a nice dress on “someone like her.” Jezebel was likely still fast asleep at their house.

A woman with the likeness of the framed photo you had seen appeared out of nowhere. So, this was the famous Mother Miranda that everyone regarded so deeply. She stood before you as the crowd’s voices hushed and their eyes became hazed with looks of admiration and devoted appreciation. Surely, she was a human, deities and gods didn’t exist in a physical form, you assured yourself.

Without a word, Miranda moved gracefully as if flowing across the ground to stand before Adelina. Taking her face between her hands, she whispered what you assumed to be praise as Adelina’s lips moved rapidly thanking Miranda. She then moved to Marion and grazed her hand against the wound on his thigh, speaking of how his steadfast devotion would quickly heal any injuries of cruelty spread by evil. When her attention finally fell back to you, she frowned. Stalking around you in circles, Miranda’s imposing figure made you want to shrivel to nothingness.

“Thank you.” She turned to the villagers as if to dismiss them. “When the time comes, I will return for another.”

The black wings you had seen in the photo sprouted from her back, shielding your sight of the villagers as they retreated to their homes. Hopeful cries and shouted blessings to Miranda echoed from the crowd as the village gate slammed. The only evidence of them once populating this empty square were flowers and offerings of fruit and grain left for the supposed goddess.

The world swiftly darkened once more.

Part 2 - Paths Meet

I promise there's more Heisenberg in the next part..

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