Dark Shadows - Blog Posts

this was for heyitzsosololz go check them out and more doodles coming soon :3 (also anymore requests and link for there tumblr page https://www.tumblr.com/heyitzsosololz

SKSHSEHA [tiktok smirk] drew a lil something for my..friend heh. (Was bribed with the promise of vbux/robux) SORRY I FUCKED U UP A LITTLE FUMI </33

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Casted shadows are beautiful until they're casted by your memories, or traumas. Who would dance in the shadows casted by nightmares?

Anneshwa

just me, a goblin, doodling some gothic horror ace attorney inspired fun fanart

Oklahoma National Livestock

An iconic picture signed by an icon.

I am not yet a Twitter refugee, but am not sanguine as to its future. So…hello Tumblr!

Fellow denizens of Collinsport, I look forward to making your acquaintance.

Lui le guardò la bocca per un attimo. <<Non ho dormito questa notte. La vita è troppo bella per passarla a dormire, non trovate?>>

Dark Shadows 

Agosto 2012

Mediwhump May - Day 8

"Scared of Blood"

(Dark Shadows 1966)

@mediwhumpmay

Willie knew he’d made a mistake before he’d even slipped. He had been sawing a piece of wood to size to repair the floor. A hand in the wrong spot. The gulf of time between realization and the consequences. He knew he had messed up. But he could do nothing to stop it. 

The saw skipped.

White hot pain across Willie’s wrist, burning and tearing.

He froze.

Willie watched the blood bloom in the ragged wound. He let the saw drop to the floor with a clatter. He dimly heard himself panting. He couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t any air. His fingers went to his collar to loosen the buttons there but his hands were shaking too much. 

Dark spots danced at the edges of his vision. The room whirled around him. 

Blood ran down Willie’s arm from the wound, red and dark. He watched it drip onto the floor. 

No, please, no.

It couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t bear it if it happened again. 

Willie clamped a hand over the wound. He squeezed his eyes shut. That helped. A little. Not much. 

He couldn’t breathe. His heart raced and stuttered. He was dizzy and hot and cold and sweating and oh god-

Those teeth were in him again. 

He was alone in the dark. Alone with the monster. He was alone and no one was coming to save him. 

Willie scrambled backward across the floor until his back hit the wall. He pulled his knees to his chest. He held his bleeding wrist close to his chest. Covering it. Hiding it. 

Yes, hide it. If no one sees, he’s safe. No one can see it. 

Warm blood, slick against his skin, coated his hands now.

Don’t look at it. Never look at it. 

The wound throbbed and burned. 

Willie slumped down to the floor. It was dusty but cool. He was dizzy. He kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t breathe. He was dying, wasn’t he? Dying alone in the dark. Again. 

Ringing in his ears. Everything faded away. Faded to darkness.

Mediwhump May - Day 4

"Pain"

(Dark Shadows 1966)

@mediwhumpmay

As soon as Willie woke up, he regretted it.

Every inch of him ached. Stiff and sore. Lying down hurt. Getting up hurt. Might as well get up.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, groaning. His head began to throb. Dawn was just beginning to peek into the room, illuminating the dust and the rot. 

Willie looked back to his pillow. A dark red and brown stain lay there. His nose must have bled in the night. He touched his swollen and tender cheek. 

The flash of a wolf’s head cane and sharp words.

Willie left the bed and padded over to the mirror on the wall. 

He thought about things so far. He thought about the distant past that was a few weeks ago. Before he’d come to Colinsport. Before all of this. Before him. 

And nothing had really changed. 

And that struck a hollow, empty chord within him.

Willie remembered getting into scraps as a kid. Scraped knees. Busted lip. Talking big only to get hit again. He’d always been covered in scabs and bruises. 

When he became an adult, it was the same. The scraps were bigger. Brawls. He just talked bigger and bigger. 

The hits got harder.

But he learned how to hit too. And he gave as much as he got.

Willie thought and thought and tried to remember a single moment of this life where he hadn’t been bruised. Or bloody. Or in pain.

He drew level with the mirror, realizing he couldn’t remember. 

This was just how it was. 

His reflection stared back at him in the dim and cold morning light. 

A pattern of cane-bruises marched over his face, dark and thunderous.

Willie’s tongue found a tooth, loosened by the blows to his face. He wiggled it. Opened his mouth. Stuck his fingers in. And ripped the tooth out.

Blood covered his fingers and blotted his lips. He slipped the tooth into his pocket.

Willie smiled at himself, bloody and gap-toothed. 

At least his outside now matched his inside.

WEREWOLF Y/N PROFILE

• Appearance inspired by Caralin from dark shadows

• Claws inspiration

• Powers inspired by scarlet witch but purple

• Age: 16,000

• Werewolf power/skills: Scarlet witch powers but purple, intimidation, telekinesis, etc

• Personality: insane, loving, kind, caring, calm, fearless, feral, etc