Freaky Weird Vampire Castlevania Oc Tähti

As the two got closer, it became a common occurrence that Julie would braid Jeff’s hair after he showered. She would sit silently on the bed in the motel room that he hadn’t paid for in half a year. Waiting for him. Staring at the assortment of knives he kept on the kitchenette countertop. Feeling the imprint of his body carved into the left side of the bed. Tasting the orange vanilla candle in the air. Jeff had told her he just liked the smell, but Julie figured he was just trying to cover the scent of rust that hit the back oh her throat when she yawned too hard; Her open mouth inviting a trace of metal to hit her uvula. Maybe, she thought, it was time to finally replace the pipes.

Jeff preferred to shower in the hottest water available for the longest he could stand it. His mother had gotten him used to the feeling of heat widening his blood vessels. She’d mutter on about how feeling dizzy was a good thing because that meant the heat was burning all the bad thoughts out of his head. About how pain is the only way to tell you’re getting clean. About how he should never say he feels faint because he’s not some girl that needs a chaise lounge to collapse on. But Jeff very often felt faint after a boiling shower. Dizzy wasn’t the right word. He didn’t feel dizzy when he sat on the bed in front of Julie and felt her nails graze his bare back as she wove his wet hair. He didn’t feel dizzy when Julie finished the braid but kept her cold hands on the small of his back and leaned in so that Jeff could feel her breath on the nape of his neck. He didn’t feel dizzy when he caught a whimper in his throat after feeling Julie’s hands move to his stomach and slide two fingers across the indent between his stomach and hip bone. Jeff didn’t feel dizzy. He felt faint.

Faint in the same way a Victorian woman feels when learning of the death of her lover. Faint enough for his knees to give up on him if he weren’t already sitting down. The feeling subsided after Julie would slide off of his bed to attend to something in the building. Most times, she’d leave to go check in a person hoping to get a discreet room with air conditioning and blackout curtains. She’d leave Jeff alone for hours so she could clean a room or take towels to the second floor or do whatever else managing a motel requires that Jeff doesn’t know anything about. By the time Julie finished her rounds and came back to Jeff’s room, his hair was usually dry and the room would be back to the frigid temperature he preferred. Julie would knock and let herself in with the master key so Jeff wouldn’t have to get up if he were busy. Wherever Jeff had positioned himself for the evening, Julie would sit close by.

The only times he really felt dizzy was when he had taken up laying on the bed and reading as a way to pass the time waiting for Julie to come back. He knew he felt dizzy, not faint, when Julie would come and sit by his side with a hairbrush and have him sit up a little bit more so she could brush his hair out. Jeff recognised the weakness in his limbs and the way his head swayed on his neck as he looked up at Julie. He recognised the dizzying way looking anywhere but Julie’s eyes seemed to make the room melt and twist. Her knee pressed against his side and he felt his skin burn the same way it did when his house burnt down. Unsteadiness hit in waves every time he glanced down and watched for a second as her fingers separated his hair. Her long nails made a path between the grooves separating each section and she widened the gaps, extending her fingers through the holes until the structure of the plait fell apart. Each time the pad of her finger grazed his shoulder after undoing a knot, he’d shake harder and harder. Jeff found it harder to keep his head up as Julie went on. His breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t bring himself to blink or look away. In the reflection of Julie’s glasses he could see himself sweat. He didn’t feel faint. He felt dizzy. He felt sick. He felt good.

Adelaide preferred fashion over function. Even when her platform boots ripped into her Achilles Tendon and she knew she’d have to walk back barefoot.

The last time Jeffery Woods saw his family was his eighteenth birthday. He left behind an uneaten store bought chocolate cake with his name spelt wrong and a barely started save of Majora’s Mask. His sister dragged him out of the fire she started and took extra care not to move his face more than she needed to. She didn’t want the blood to drown him. He woke up alone in the middle of the woods with fresh burns and a tea towel shoved into his mouth, soaked in the blood from before the scabs started forming.

Plus not dark version ;-3

I so rarely draw original art, but today is the day.

The Last Unicorn and Elytra

"Useless ray of goddamn sunshine. You could have taught an old fool like me a lot."

Referenced Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan (1885)

Full of

Nina Hopkins had no reason to act the way she did. She was raised to be kind and patient. She was raised to be independent and honest. She was raised to be a good person. Her parents had given her the perfect opportunity for a perfect life— financial security and doting caretakers easing any possible stress she could have taken on as she grew up. She was given all of this but above anything else, Nina was just cruel. Shoving and sneering at the goth boy in the mall was enough to make her smile, but she relished in the way he shrunk down into himself after she convinced everyone at school that he totally tried to take pictures up her skirt. Nina loved getting as many people as she could involved in whatever cruelty she thought of. Maybe that’s why Jeffery Woods was different. She found him after other girls on the forum had already known about him and immediately felt a connection. The look in his eyes in the security tapes making its rounds on the forum made her feel greedy. It made her feel like she wanted him all to himself. She was the only one that saw her own cruelty reflected back in his eyes.

i am woke slenderman collect my 8 pronouns

4EVER.

Nona de Vries went missing in ‘85. Her little sister, Dove, was around twelve at the time. Their shared bedroom always felt strange after that. Not because Nona wasn’t there anymore, but because suddenly, Dove felt like an intruder. No longer welcome.