#bobgray

[n1ghtwarden]

slay queen

#watch out clun boy #bobgray #ANSWERED. missives to the night warden.

[asundered]

“let’s  play.” @aleera

the queen's gambit.

"yes, yes . . ." she leans forward, talons grasping the edge of the rooftop where she perches as her head tilts to better observe It, leathery wings still tucked in against her back for the moment. "i love games."

a trilling giggle spills forth, and she falls headlong in a flurry of grey-ish flesh and pink fabric, landing on her feet in a guise of beauty that seems out of place in light of the death that reeks around them, torn villagers strewn at her feet, some still gasping their last breaths. "what shall we play?"

#death tw / #int / aleera drakulya. #int / it & aleera. #answered. #do i even have an answered ask tag #unclear #anyways i think aleera is in for a rude awakening perhaps #she was tearing up a village and here comes It #she's like oh yes wonderful what game should we play #girl ... no #y'all are crazy in different ways #anyways hiiiiii!!! #bobgray

[medusacomplex]

Each step brings a creaking sound from the wood below the weight of her foot, a moan of the old Creel house which barely stands on its own anymore. Seems like it's half-sighing as it roots further into the ground, sinking in its slow death, a forgotten relic haunted by a lifetime of misfortune and subsequent neglect. There could be many arguments made for putting it out of its misery, this old grief-stricken thing with blood and ghosts haunting the drywall. Nancy finds herself agreeing with most of them. Flashlight in hand, the Nancy Drew of Hawkins, Indiana peers down the hallway with no small measure of caution, slow in her actions and keeping one foot always poised behind her, as if ready to turn on a dime to run back out the way she came. To be here alone is a mistake: she knows this. But her hunch had led her straight here, and if no one cared to believe her when she said she knew something was wrong, she'd just have to investigate independently.

A loud, sudden woody groan lets out from just behind her and she spins, finding nothing in particular except old cobwebs and a termite-ridden plank of wood hanging loose from the wall. Jesus, she hated being doubted. Made for seriously lonely excursions.

With a deep breath she reoriented herself in neither direction, not down the hall nor towards the sound from just behind her, but instead she began approaching the staircase, moving with meticulous action up each step and holding tight to the banister as she ascended. Halfway up is when the sounds began shifting, the wooden groans twisting into something more akin to a voice, though the words themselves she couldn't quite make out, slurred and mumbled and unintelligible. At first she thought it was a trick of her ear, that her own heebie-jeebies were getting the best of her, because believe as she might in many-a-weird thing, ghosts weren't one of them. Bracing herself, yet another breath taken in with a sharper air this time, she continued, unabashed in the face of whispered murmurs.

Of course, she was reckless, not stupid; as she began to reach the top of the stairs she used one hand to pull around her backpack, balancing it against her hip, digging through to pull out the pistol she'd snuck out from underneath her bed. Just in case. She shrugs the bag back onto her shoulder, a quick action, done admittedly rather gracefully given the loaded gun in her palm but not quite perfectly enough to avoid one of the spare boxes of ammo slipping through the partly unzippered opening and allowing it to clumsily clunk against the floorboards near the edge of the steps.

" Shit! " She winces as she points the light back down towards the box, a few bullets escaping and teetering precariously, ready to fall off and roll down the entire flight. With a grimace, she begrudgingly lowers down to pick them up before realizing she's got her hands pretty full. Light or gun. Didn't feel like a good idea to risk going gunless, so flashlight it was; she balanced it gently on the stair beside her, pointed towards the small cardboard box and neighboring metal bullets. Delicate hand moves to pick them up one by one, placing the ammo back in the box and pocketing it. Got it. A bit exasperated, she sighs ––– this sucks. She should have dragged Jonathan along. The only success she's beginning to think she'll find here is that of succeeding in scaring herself near to death just by making stupid mistakes.

As she stands, remembering to pick up the flashlight, she turns to the shock of company: beady eyes and a white-painted face, staring back at her with her doe-eyed terror as she looks on in awe for just a moment before toppling back and losing her balance. Bullets spew against the stairs and fall alongside her, though she does well to catch herself midway down the staircase (not for lack of injury, there's a sharp pain in her left hand and shin that she's choosing to ignore for the time being). As she clamors up she begins to crawl the rest of the way down the stairs, forcing herself up as she meets the ground and speeding towards the front door.

She was sure there was a door there. She meets only wall. Wasting no time, she runs towards the parlor room, nearly tripping over the white-sheet-covered furniture which no doubt makes great moth-fodder, scrambling uneasily through towards a smaller room in the back, something which appears to be a study. She looks around for anything, a door, a window, something to break herself out of, but finding nothing and knowing her paths are few, she opts to duck beneath the large mahogany desk. Here the pain begins to become a bit more apparent, as well as the realization that not only had she dropped the extra bullets, but her flashlight, too. Only her gun remained. Six rounds. Shit.

Slow, steady, she moves to peer around the corner of the desk, trying to spot if that thing was nearby. Nothing. A shaky breath releases and she shuts her eyes, trying to center herself.

It is a voice which then calls out, like that old creaking wood of the house, a settling of its bones, as @pennywise asks, ❝ why are you hiding from me, nancy? ❞

Eyes bound open as she pulls the trigger by instinct alone, leaving only a bullet lodged deep into the armoire across her. She scurries upwards, turning like rapidfire to survey the room.

" Who's there? " Her question's less so and more a demand: WHO'S THERE? She points the gun with an intent fervor, albeit a bit feverish in her demeanor, as she takes cautious steps out from behind the desk and towards the entry of the parlor yet again. " Don't ––  screw with me, I'll shoot. "

#▌ ⁑╰ v. stranger things / main ∎ ჻ uᴉɐɯ . #bobgray #hi jay :3 #i miss u. #this is a little ridiculously long but i #wanted so bad to try a little jumpscare in there ALSO apologies as well #bc i godmodded a little on mister clown .... teehee :) #if u feel like responding to this obviously disregard the length it was #only for my own benefit

[monstroum]

❛  𝙷𝙾𝚆  𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶  𝙷𝙰𝚂  𝙸𝚃  𝙱𝙴𝙴𝙽  𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙴  𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚅𝙴  𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙽,  𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽𝙽𝚈-𝙱𝙾𝚈 ?  ❜ for monsignor pruitt / @bobgray​

Two bony hands tightened their grip on the beads of a rosary. It dangled from Monsignor Pruitt’s palms. The curtains of his home were drawn and heavy: no sunlight was to touch the cross nor the man holding it. 

John Pruitt spent his days praying, eagerly waiting for his angel’s call behind tightly shut eyelids. There had been alarming revelations as of late and, though the clergyman knew there to be a reason for such horrifying happenings ( For who knows a person's thoughts except their own spirit within them? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God —Corinthians 2:11 ), he could not help but feel fear in both his heart and thoughts. He required guidance, advice, a sign that what he had done and WHAT HE CRAVED FOR did not make him an evil man.

Pruitt swallowed hard and pressed his forehead to his praying hands. These days, communion felt very much like BEGGING —— and though he knew to be all alone in his room, he still could not bring himself to raise his voice above a whisper.

             “ Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of mercy. Our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we... ”    A sharp and hot pain stabbed at his bowels and John slammed his closed fists against his nightstand, causing the lamp upon it to jolt. He needed to remain focus.   “ To thee do we — ” 

Another flash of pain tugged at his insides causing Pruitt to grit his teeth together. He had never felt hunger like this. It felt cataclysmic; as if not meant for mankind but for a storm or the sea. And this time, when the pain hit him, a voice accompanied it. It was not his angel, for he would never use such a mocking tone. His words were holy, ancient and beautiful — the ones interrupting his peace of mind felt mundane. Like something an ill-mannered child would say. 

But they could not be of this world. For there was no one in that room with him. And they had beckoned to John by his christian given name.

          “ Moses fasted for 40 days and 40 nights in order to feel closer to God. ” John tried. Sweat stuck to his forehead. And when he pulled his face away from his hands, he felt nauseous.  “ Fasting from sin allows us to focus on what’s important. It — it clears the mind. ”

Hopefully it would not take him a month to feel holy again.

#* answered . #* bobgray . #* ch. writings : monsignor pruitt . #my day improves significantly #whenever you pop up to torture my characters #thank u jay bless u jay

[revoide]

It reaches out from beneath the bed ; a chitinous hand, alien fingers long as femurs, close around her ankle in a single fluid movement ...

the sun had set long ago or so it seemed.          neibolt was more shadow than house and outside the grimy windows stretched an endless abyss.          she’d been searching for It for hours now,  her feet sore from walking on warped floorboards and shaky stairs.          the shadows moved with charlotte,  rebuilding and restructuring as she went along;     surely,  she had passed the monster several times,  if not hundreds of times by now,  for It was the shadows and the dirt and the breathing walls and the watching doors.          there had been moments when the void’s vessel had forgotten the reason for her wandering and she found herself peering too closely into dark corners and strange glints.          she did not remember this now,  but for an entire hour,  charlotte had sat staring into the glass covering of a small clock on the living room mantle and she’d wept hot tears at what she’d seen of the past and the future,  warped across the glass.           𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚂 𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁,     whispered a voice much kinder than her own.

upstairs stretched a long corridor of yawning doors.          somewhere in the back of her mind,  charlotte knew that this was impossible,  that neibolt was taller than it was wide and a corridor as long as this could not fit inside.          but what she knew and what she saw in front of her have always often been two very different things.          charlotte walked down the very middle of the hallway,  her arms stretched out to either side of her body,  pale digits spread out and reaching into the air in front of each room like an insect’s feelers.          if the hour had not been so late,  a more diligent version of herself may have checked every room for signs of It,  but the hour was passed late and had gone into non - existence.     I AM WEARY AS I EVER AM,  but i simply do not have in myself to quit.          that was not how i was made.          one - hundred steps later,  charlotte found herself still at the half - way point down the corridor and she paused,  an idea coming to her mind.          she closed one eye,  levelled her gaze at the far wall,  and slowly slid her eye down to where the wall met the dirty hardwood.

                                        𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝙰𝙱𝚄𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝚄𝙽𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴.

dropping her arms,  charlotte swiveled on her heels and headed into the nearest dark doorway, and felt the shuddering of a fragile,  frantic reality as the door slammed close behind her.          lungs half - drowned in the murk of this abyssal house huffed out a breath of stale air,  a dead woman’s final breath.          it was a small bedroom filled with decaying remnants of a child’s fantasy.          the bed sheets were frilly and a faded robin - egg’s blue,  but the bed frame was practically skeletal.          the dolls slumped on the dresser,  necks bent and mouths gaping with their last horrid cries.          only an open jack - in - the box appeared vibrant and lively on the bedside table.          it was still as a stopped motion - picture until charlotte stepped closer.          without so much as creak,  the well - oiled spring began to sway and the plastic bells on jack’s head jingled cheerfully.          scowling,  charlotte bent at the waist until she as eye - to - eye with the toy.          “     hm,  you’re not the one i’m looking for.     have you seen another guy like you?     BIGGER,  MEANER,  AND A ROTTEN EGG FOR A HEAD?     no?     didn’t think so.     ”          her spine snapped straight and she moved to close the box,  but something closed around her ankle first.

charlotte shrieked and every doll on the dresser shrieked in response.          in a split - second of panic,  she tried to jerk her leg away from the monster’s grip,  but the warped floorboards warped once more,  and her knee buckled.          depending on how things could be defined,  charlotte either tripped over herself or nothing at all and fell forwards.          her head banged against the bedside table.          the jack - in - the - box danced madly,  bouncing in excitement as charlotte crumpled to the ground,  groaning softly.          blood sluiced down from her forehead,  soaked her brow,  and pooled into a shuddering socket.          the unfortunate eye - ball inside said socket rolled wildly before finally settling on the dense shadows beneath the bed,  half - hidden by the frills.          “     first of all,  ow.     second of all,  you just lost,  you fucking silly clown.     you gave yourself away.     that’s three - two,  now,  eh,  penny?     don’t eat my fucking foot.     you sore loser.     ”          /          @bobgray     .

#* char's like 'if i pass out from this head trauma that doesn't make me a free snack.' #bobgray

[odisn]

stares at from the storm drain.

SIDE - EYES  A  CREATURE  HE'S  HEARD  PLENTY  ABOUT  OVER  THE  CENTURIES ,  though this is his first time meeting It in the flesh .   doesn't say anything ,  but stands in the downpour ,  the storm he created ,  staring right back   ---   grip tightening slightly on his axe .

#ic. answered. #pennywise: >.> #thor: <.< #the end #bobgray #asks

[clearvoir]

*     PHANTOM  LINE     —     @bobgray.​

        THE  VOICE  COMES  FROM  ‘NEATH  THE  FLOORBOARDS  of  her  bedroom.     the  call  of  a  bewitched  siren,     appealing,     the  sound  of  pearls,     and  somehow  in  the  same  breath,      as  petrifying  as  looking  DEATH  in  the  eye.     in  the  heart  of  her  haven,     she  remains  upright,     raveled  ‘mong  pillows  and  blankets  that  twine  around  her  wings,    trapping  her  to  the  bed     [     THE  VOICE  OF  BRADLEY?     NO.     YOUR  MOTHER?     MAYBE  EVEN  UNCLE  DAN’S.     ]      a  crude  impersonation  of  all  three,       enmeshed  and  intertwisted  to  create  a  vile  melody  of  memories,      beckoning  the  seer  from  her  nest,      where  she  creeps  ‘cross  the  room  in  palpable  dread.      

         WANT  TO  PLAY  WITH  US,     ABRA?    come  and  play.     you  can  bring  buh  -  buh  -  billy.     you  can  tell  him  georgie’s  down  here     . . .     WAITING.     we’re  all  waiting,     abra.

          ❝     fuck  you,     ❞     whispered  balefully  through  the  clench  of  her  teeth,     wrath  finds  a  home  in  the  remains  of  a  girl,      the  bedroom  laments  to  her  shine      ;     searches  the  floors  and  walls,     the  vents  and  drapes,     pursuing  the  voice  arduously.      ❝     c  -  come  out.      come  out  right  now     —      come  out  or  i’ll  find  you.      ❞

#hey..... HEY #bobgray #* . IN CHARACTER : RESPONSES.

[bembiann]

Are you still his little girl, Beverly?? by Bembiann

I`m soo excited by the new teaser trailer for It Chapter 2! Thanks to Andy and Barbara for the new meal for inspiration! This one took a lot of time and energy, but i`m totally satisfied by the result! Aaand yeah, tried to draw the realistic Bob Grey from the old picture in the trailer. Hope we will see him in the movie! Photoshop CC 2018. This one - took almost 24 hours. Want a commission or print- write me in dm!

#Pennywise #Pennywise2017 #PennywiseTheDancingClown #PennywiseTheClown #BobGray #Itmovie #It2 #Itchapter2 #Itthemovie #It2017

[volchizta]

IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING VIY’S DEPARTURE DEATH LINGERED IN EVERY DARK CORNER OF BUYAN, IN EVERY SILENCE HE WAITED, LISTENING FOR THE CRIES OF THE GRIEVING    .   marya morevna kept her sorrows under lock & key, she kept it under her tongue until the moon was high & her husband’s breathing cleaved her in two. It was only then that marya would allow herself to come undone, unwound & steeped in tears. Now her tears are dried, she is every bit the tsarista of death, the queen across the sea,  dearest volchitsa. All hardened edges, bared teeth & cruel eyes, something catches her eye in the fountain, something broke the surface of the blood & it was watching her. marya approaches regally, chin set stubbornly, lifted, shoulders squared with certainty, a frown wrinkles the lovliness of her face.     .   ‘   what do you want  ?  ‘

@bobgray​

#hey look jay #i finally wrote for u #bobgray #i. ic : a red poppy / touched by the ice of tears

[taekwonhoes]

Something I really love about Pennywise fanart is that everyone has their way of drawing his hair. Long? Spikes? Wavy hair that makes it look like he puts rollers in every night? You name IT!

#movies #bill skarsgard #coulrophilia #horror #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise #bobgray #bob #robert grey #IT #itchapter2

[bravetoo]

the     face     in     the     mirror     would    stare     back     at     her     just     as     it     did     any     other     time.    only     now,     she     wasn’t      looking.     the     girl     in     the     mirror     felt     half-mad.     knowing     the     sun     had     set,      she     would     be     sleeping    in     a      lonely     house.    a     dark     house.     dark     shadows     and     DARK     DRAINS.     with     a     brush,      she    ran     through     the     knots    in     her     hair,     unruly     and     wet     from     the     shower.      the     blood     had     been     wiped     clean     but     the     smell     lingered     in     the     walls     and     under     her     skin.     burnt     copper     and      fleshy     roadkill.     she     scrubbed     herself     raw     that     dreadful    night,     irritated      skin     glowing     red     and     patchy.     it     did     not     help.      i’ll     be     working     ‘till     the    morning.     so’s     your     momma,      her     father     had    told     her.      you     be    good,     bevvy.      and     while     the     pat    he    gave    her     head     was    affectionate,     his      eyes     were     not.          A     SHUDDER     RAN     THROUGH     HER.     from     a     part     in     her     bangs,     she     watches     the     mirror.     and     for    what     felt     like     only     half     a     second,     she     could’ve     sworn     she     saw     the     face     change.          /          @bobgray​    

#27 years later i post it #from what we talked abt on disc hehe #bobgray

[frankslittlevampire]

«𝚕𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚒 𝚑𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚒𝚊», 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎, 𝚒𝚕 𝙿𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚘 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚘. «𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚕 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚘 𝚑𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚒𝚊. 𝚕𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒, 𝚕’𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚘, 𝙶𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚎?» 🎈

#📖 #currentlyreading #reading #book #bookstagram #bookworm #booklover #horrorbook #secondhandbook #usedbook #sperlingpaperback #stephenking #it #stephenkingsit #stephenkingsbooks #pennywise #bobgray #pennywisethedancingclown #derry #losersclub #funkopop #horror #creepy #spooky #macabre #clown #alien #eaterofworlds #doyouwantaballoon #🎈

[kosherkathy]

No, not really! . . . . #halloween #it #itchaptertwo #itoriginstory #pennywise #bobgray #amc #moviereviewer #moviereview #burbank #losangeles #california #trickortreat #glutenfree #darkchocolate #ohyeah #takeabreathhunny #thatsaspicymeatball #meatballhero #funt #funny #jimcarrey #helenabonhamcarter #billskarsgard https://www.instagram.com/p/B3fIupYAcyB/?igshid=1spm9ixsl440q

#halloween #it #itchaptertwo #itoriginstory #pennywise #bobgray #amc #moviereviewer #moviereview #burbank #losangeles #california #trickortreat #glutenfree #darkchocolate #ohyeah #takeabreathhunny #thatsaspicymeatball #meatballhero #funt #funny #jimcarrey #helenabonhamcarter #billskarsgard

[jackbattyart]

FormaDeItN°03: "Bob Gray El Leproso" es sin duda la mejor transformación de ESO como lo describen -Una enfermdad andante- MATERIALES👇🏻 SakuraPigmaMicron🎈CopicMultiliner🎈CopicCiao🎈Promarker🎈Brushmarker🎈Finecolour🎈TouchFive🎈PoscaPC-1M ______________________________________________ #pennywise #itchapter2🎈 #copicart #ink #draw #ink #markers #sketch #halloween #illustration #bobgray #fanart #horrordrawing #monsterdrawing #leper #dibujo #drawing #touchfivemarker #jackbattyart #horrorart #itart #illustration #doodle #art #dibujo #itfanart #it #myart #sketching #it2 https://www.instagram.com/p/B14StAHI077/?igshid=pr2n9d6wbdfm

#pennywise #itchapter2🎈 #copicart #ink #draw #markers #sketch #halloween #illustration #bobgray #fanart #horrordrawing #monsterdrawing #leper #dibujo #drawing #touchfivemarker #jackbattyart #horrorart #itart #doodle #art #itfanart #it #myart #sketching #it2

[chogrin]

#pennywise meets my take on him. #bobgray #pennywisethedancingclown #andymuschietti #stephenking #it #itmovie #studioadi #amalgamateddynamicsinc #chogrin #clown #creepyclown #chogrinart #printsonwood #itchapter2 #itart #pennywiseart #pennywisetheclown #youllfloattoo (at Studioadi) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0ST4JSD3WS/?igshid=13qjnizdtlfii

#pennywise #bobgray #pennywisethedancingclown #andymuschietti #stephenking #it #itmovie #studioadi #amalgamateddynamicsinc #chogrin #clown #creepyclown #chogrinart #printsonwood #itchapter2 #itart #pennywiseart #pennywisetheclown #youllfloattoo

[odisn]

10.     pantry.

LOADS of meat .   meat of every kind .   he's such a carnivore .   if you need any meat ,  you go to Thor .   same goes for alcohol ,  he has his own stash of mead stored in there for alcohol - related emergencies .   and then the basic requirements for hunting and seasoning your own food before roasting it over a spit ,  so definitely a shelf for Asgardian herbs and spices .   likely some chopped up wood lying around in the corner too .   Thor treats the pantry like any old cupboard sometimes ,  which can be a problem  ...   sometimes his axe ,  Guðvinr ,  ends up living in there too ,  which causes a panic the next day when Thor forgets where he placed it .   and finally ,  plenty of healthy snacks ,  like nuts and dried fruit   ...   but also unhealthy Earth snacks ,  like a bucketload of gummy candy and ,  I am ashamed to say it ,  twinkies .

                         @bobgray​    /    p.    /    not accepting.

#hc. #59. #the pantry is sizeable. #and full of goods but also horrors #like twinkies #food mention #alcohol mention #bobgray #asks