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#layers of fear fanart
unusualmuffin-art · 7 months
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Tried to make a simple gif :)
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ssstrawberryflowers · 5 months
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woohoo!!! Termina type shit!!!! practicing facial structures and facial emotions!!! weeeee
(bonus Pav and skimpily dressed catboy Daan as well as possible eyestrain under the cut)
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realized i spent almost the entire day drawing, huh...
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blatantlyhidden · 6 months
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recording...
uncensored version
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vinestaff · 11 months
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hes in roblox free draw! woah!!!
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suaimhneas-gairid · 9 months
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whoops i made him catholic
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marigraphia · 5 months
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Mrs. and Mr. Emma Frost!
(Reference under the cut)
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yarasa2k · 3 days
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it took me too long to get canons done but refs of rondo + marciale gijinkas and my version of parallel canon! :3
i have an au focusing on these guys being the staff of the memverse and working on new jobs given by the queen herself (marina) along with their boss duty. it has its own blog called @memverse-updated where these three are trying to manage a social media account. please help me revive it LMAO
rondo and marcia can switch into their original forms at will like they're changing vrchat avatars. the humanoid forms are mostly for communication and actually moving around while the original forms are for work and their boss jelleton duty. canon doesn't need this lol
rondo (she/it) was very willing to keep its guard duty so she became the head security instead of the canons. she takes care of unruly people who broke the rules (think of virtual world rules, esp vrchat) and makes sure they never break them again in her prison. it is cynical and extremely strict at work but keeps a bit of the caring side from pre-corruption days, has zero bullshit tolerance but does not show temper unless pushed to the limit. i think she counts as a transfem but in a jenny from mlaatr way yknow.
canon#4 (she/they) is a semi-accurate clone of agent 4. they seem to have the looks and personality (confident but finds fun in a lot of things) correct but misses the mark on her weapon preference (real 4 is a charger main) and reasoning. their job is to train the other jelletons for the spire. canon#4 really wants to be a real inkling and actively looks for a way to get into the real world. sees other canons as younger siblings but finds the other two staff creepy as hell. canons differ on gender so it's better to ask them individually but the leader is a girl.
marcia (pronounced like marcha, they/it) has been noticed by others that it loves to store things in a certain way so they became the archivist/librarian. they keep in track of memories, palettes, what weapons to give etc. in a big storage/library kind of place. they're actually a chill sweetheart who almost never gets mad (unless you wake them up) but they're also a pushover, a mix of an akward nerdy girl and a sweet grandma but in a non-binary way. actively seeks knowledge and is seen as wise because of this.
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loisiru · 1 year
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Finally finished my LOF Wife doodle dump because she is about to speak UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️
Bottom left doodle's dress reference is based on this 1923 evening gown, and bonus sequel to bottom right doodle:
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hardwitchhologram · 1 year
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I went to art class today, and instead of working on my actual assignment, I instead painting a portrait of the wife from Layers of Fear.
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I know the remake (remaster?) of Layers of Fears is supposed to be out “early 2023”, but it’s almost March. Ah well
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robobee · 1 year
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girls when they're planning a drawing that has to have Rembrandt in there twice, have that very specific digital twitter artist style at first glance, directly take from late 20th century styles like layendecker for the fabric AND have flat stylized background elements AND be on a white background and be a full body with a severe case of negative space and
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unusualmuffin-art · 5 months
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808exe · 1 year
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few of the flat images of my previous gif. what was your favorite episode from maniac?
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Day 10: Layers of Fear
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mister13eyond · 2 years
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I am vibrating your gothic horror au is so splendid aaaaaaaaaaa
THANK YOU SO MUUUUCH!!! I'm having an UNREASONABLE amount of fun with it... I'm somewhat imagining it as a horror game, so I have been enjoying not needing to nail down one set storyline/path and instead Exploring The Vibes, it's been CRAZY fun to play with
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astral--horrorshow · 7 months
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Red Snow - Platonic Yandere Mud Dogs x GN Reader
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A/N: Happy spooky month, everyone!! This is the first of two stories I'm going to release for October. They're based off of horror/thriller media, and credit to @yandere-toons for the inspiration of merging a horror movie with a yandere scenario with their Invader Zim story!
This story is based off of the film "No Exit", and even though the protag in the film and this share the same name, they aren't the same, that's a just a coincidence.
Try to guess what the second story is based off of! Here's a hint: It most likely served as inspiration for a nordic horror game that's getting a third installment in 2024!!
If anyone wants to draw fanart based off of this story or take any sort of inspiration based off of it, please feel free!! I'd be happy to see anything you make!
Her: You better not be writing a 6000+ fanfic for characters who only had 5 minutes of screentime when I get there!
Me:
~
Warning: This story is meant for entertainment purposes only and not meant to romanticize or encourage any of the behaviors found in it.
TW: a gun, blood, kidnapping, restraints, semi infantilizism, being struck, hinted fear mongering, slight gore, death, this is strictly platonic
Word Count: 6246
Summary: Darby is stranded at a rest stop in a snowstorm with 5 complete strangers when they unveil a chilling discovery.
~
Darby wrapped their hands around the mug of coffee, warming their hands up through their fur. They sighed in relief as they began to feel their fingers again, the snow melting.
A snowstorm raged outside, beating against the windows of the rest stop and coating them with layer after layer of dull frost. Looking around, Darby swallowed hard as they took a nervous glance at the people they would be sharing the rest stop with for the foreseeable future. Three other yōkai shared the table in the center of the room with them, with a fourth napping in the corner of the room, and another making himself a cup of coffee. Their hand instinctively drifted to the pocket on their jeans, attempting to soothe their nerves by rubbing the denim-covered contents. The air was thick and hard to breathe in, not with Darby’s nerves.
“What’s your name, kid?”
The cat yōkai jolted, yanking their hand away from their pocket and staring at the bat yōkai from across the table. “Sorry?” They breathed out, trying to regain the air in their lungs.
“I said, what’s your name?”
“Oh! Oh. Darby, sorry…”
“Nothing to apologize for,” the bat said, reaching up and scratching his big ear, “But you’ll want to get used to me. We’ll be here for a while.
Darby swallowed again, and nodded. The bat gave a half-smile to them, and spoke again.
“I’m Rafferty, and this is my wife-”
“Juane,” the borzoi yōkai next to him butted in.
“Right, Juane,” Rafferty turned to the eel on Darby’s right and opened his mouth, but the eel beat him to it.
“I’m Mickey!” He said, cheerfully.
“Well, hello, Mickey.” Juane said, staring at him with a turned head. Mickey grinned at her, which unsettled Darby. In fact, all of the yōkai in that room freaked them out. They didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way Juane’s eyes seemed to stare at them from behind her long snout, maybe it was Rafferty’s intimidating aura or Mickey’s freaky grin.
Everyone sat in near-silence again, the sound of the coffee maker and the snowstorm being the only companion to the yōkai’s ears. Mickey looked like he wanted to say something, but he took a glance at the rat making the coffee, and kept his mouth shut. Darby took notice of this, and an uneasy feeling burrowed into their stomach. Maybe they were overthinking it, but maybe not. Why would Mickey stop himself from talking after looking at a stranger?
Darby clutched their knees. They needed to be away from people, to clear their head. They stood up from the table, the grating sound of the chair scooting back on the hardwood making them internally wince. They half-stumbled to the bathroom, unaware of the burning stare boring into their back.
Inside the bathroom, Darby pulled out their phone to find it had no service. Even though they were expecting it, being in a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with a snowstorm raging outside, they still groaned. The thought of being completely stranded with the unsettling strangers that they had just met made them feel sick. They buried their head in their hands, taking a deep breath. Maybe they could get some service outside. They needed to get away from all of that thick air, anyways.
Darby trekked out of the bathroom, not sparing even a passing glance at the other yōkai while they walked towards the doors. They pushed the doors open, the frigid air drawing all heat from their body and bits of ice pelting their coat and nose. They didn’t mind. It was freeing. Refreshing, even. Their boots crunched against the snow as they took their phone out of the pocket of their olive green jacket, holding up like a flare in hopes of getting at least a single bar. They tramped around in the thick snow, trying not to let go of their phone by gripping as tight as they could with their quickly numbing fingers.
A metallic-sounding thud barley pierced Darby’s ears through the vociferous whistling of the storm, but they heard it, nonetheless. There was another thud, and Darby snapped their head towards the vehicle it came from, a large, dark van.
Darby lowered their phone and stumbled towards the van, glancing back at the rest stop windows. Nobody had moved or was looking at them. They jumped behind the van, standing at its back doors. One of the windows had been covered up with something, but the other one had only snow as its curtain. They wiped away the snow with their hand, and immediately jumped back.
There was a human in the van.
Your arms and shins were tightly bound together with rope, and a gag covered your mouth. You banged on the window with your arms and Darby could hear you whimper as they stumbled back in shock. Shaking off their surprise, they turned back to the window again to make sure that nobody was looking, and threw themselves to the door window.
“Hey, hey, I’m gonna get you out of here, alright? I’m gonna help you, you’re gonna be okay.”
You continued to whimper, attempting to open the van doors with your bound and mittened hands to no avail. Darby tried the doors, too. Locked.
Darby panted in fear, eyes widening when they glanced back at the window and saw a figure standing tall with their back turned. Darby practically leaped to the other side of the van, pressing their back to it and holding their hand up to their chest, feeling their heart beating fast. They didn’t want to believe that they were in this situation, that they were dreaming, or hallucinating.
Taking a deep breath, they attempted to calm their nerves. They only had to play it cool until they could get help. But who knows how long that would be? And they didn’t even know who the van even belonged to! Everyone in there was an equal suspect, and Darby didn’t even know the other two’s names! They groaned and tugged on their ears. The cat yōkai couldn’t just pull you out, but there had to be a way to help, there had to!
Darby smoothed some of the frazzled fur on their head and took another breath. It was going to be hard, but playing cool was their only option until they could deduce who the owner of the van was, or at least get one bar of service. They walked back to the rest stop, holding their phone above their head again.
They tucked it back into their pocket when they opened the doors, swallowing the lump in their throat when they saw the two other yōkai, now sitting at the table. The rat decked out in purple smiled at Darby as they walked inside with what might’ve been a warm smile if he didn’t have such an air of coldness to him. Darby tried their best to smile at him back, though it probably looked more like a grimace. They didn’t smile much, anyways.
They sat back down in their chair, taking in the sight of playing cards on the table and the scent of cheap instant coffee wafting in the air. “Well, hello,” the rat said in a friendly tone, “It looks like we have everyone here! My name’s Danny.”
He reached a hand out to Darby, and they gingerly shook it. “Darby…”
Though the ogre yōkai to the right of Danny was sitting at the table with everyone else, he didn’t make any move to speak, focusing more on the deck of cards in his hands, which he was shuffling with his thick fingers. Darby eyed him nervously. Silent and sullen-seeming, he might’ve been the type to hide a human in his van, but Darby stopped themself from making any assumptions. If there was one thing their mother taught them, it’s that one can’t judge from feeling alone. Darby knew plenty of quiet and sullen people, including themself. That didn’t mean that they had a human in their car. The snake in the grass could be any one of the people they shared the table with.
“So, where are you all headed?”
Rafferty struck up conversation again, glancing around at everyone. “I’m headed to Shimmering Isle with Juane.”
“I’m going to the Enclave. Don’t you just need a change of scenery every once in a while?” Danny said, raising his coffee cup up to his mouth.
“That’s neat, son. And where are you headed, Darby?”
Darby’s throat went dry as they opened their mouth to speak, eyes darting around the room as they tried to think up a place for them to say. They just wanted to get away from the Hidden City, they didn’t realize they would have to lie to a stranger about it.
Luckily for them, Danny spilled his coffee on Mickey, and luckily for Mickey, it was only lukewarm at that point. Still, he groaned when the dark liquid stained his bright orange t-shirt and ran down his tail. Danny apologized profusely, but it didn’t seem genuine to Darby. Maybe not to Mickey, either, as he was glaring at Danny like he had just defaced a priceless family heirloom.
Darby took advantage of the commotion and slipped inside the bathroom again, looking around for a window or a back door until they saw a big hole covered up with a piece of flimsy plywood. They grabbed a crowbar near the hole, and pried it open with some effort. They rushed back to the van and slipped the edge of the crowbar between the cracks of the passenger seat door, prying it open, too.
The cat yōkai crawled inside the car and closed the door behind them, practically diving to you. They lifted up your head gently, awkwardly petting it with their other hand in an attempt to soothe your cries and whimpers from behind your gag. “Hey, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine,” they repeated like a mantra, trying to convince themselves more than you. “My name is Darby, and I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? We’re gonna get out here.”
Darby grabbed the side of your gag, attempting to pull it off when they heard the driver’s side handle jiggling, whoever was attempting to open it was having a hard time. Darby’s eyes widened, and their eyes darted around to find a hiding place. Spotting a pile of blankets in the corner right behind the driver’s seat, they slipped under it, tucking the crowbar in, pulling their legs in and internally praying that their ears didn’t stick out.
The door opened, and someone slid into the front seat. Yanking the door shut, Mickey’s voice muttered angrily.
“You could’ve just tapped me, you could’ve done ANYTHING but spill coffee on me! Man, this is totally gonna stain!”
Tears ran down your face as you craned your neck to gaze up at Mickey, curling into yourself on the floor. He heard your sniffles and looked down at you, his face now set in gentle confusion and concern instead of the death glare he sported merely a moment ago. “Oh, sorry, little pike. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, “It’s just- Danny can be such an a-” Mickey cut himself off, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Danny can be very mean… sometimes.”
He said this through gritted teeth, as though it was physically painful for him to talk in the way one would to a kindergartener. He ran his arm over the fin on the top of his head, closing his eyes. “Oh, yeah!” He exclaimed, opening his eyes again, “I’m supposed to be checking on you. Are you okay?” He took notice of your puffy eyes and shaky breaths, “You don’t look so good-”
MIckey halted his sentence, his eyes widening as he looked at the uncovered back window and the piece of cardboard near your feet, “What the hell?! Did you do that?!” He pulled himself into the back, scrambling towards the door. He snatched the cardboard up from the floor and put it back on the window before turning back around to you. “We told you not to touch the windows!”
You started to sob again, eyes shutting tightly as you curled up into yourself. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t cry. You’re gonna be okay.” Mickey switched back to his gentle tone, petting your head with his arm, “Trust me, things’ll get a lot better when we get to Jadetown.” He said this while using his other arm to reach into one of the many boxes in the van, pulling out a shirt exactly like the one he was wearing, except that it didn’t have a coffee stain on it. He pulled off his black coat, inspecting the stormy fur that lined the hood to see if there was any trace of coffee on it, and set it aside to change his shirt.
After Mickey pulled his coat back on, he grinned at you and petted your head again. “I have to go back inside now, people’ll think I’ve died, haha!” He clambered back into the driver's seat and got out of the van. He slithered towards the rest stop again, pulling his jacket closer around him. Mickey wasn’t paying attention to the world in front of him, as always, so it was a surprise when he bumped into the chest of Leonard, with Danny behind him. If looks could kill, the ogre yōkai would have a bigger body count than he already had, but it wasn’t directed at Mickey, no, he was glaring at their van. The eel looked back at him and the van, confused.
“What is it, Len?” Mickey asked, “Is there a scratch on the paint, or-”
“No, there isn’t a scratch!” Leonard snarled, “Where’s the cat?”
Mickey looked back to the van, eyes shooting towards the bootprints leading towards its back door.
~
Once they were sure that Mickey was back inside, Darby slipped out of it again, and rushed over to you again. This time, they were able to take off your gag, and you coughed and cried and took shaky, deep breaths as though your head had just been let up out of a bucket of water. Darby lifted your head up, wrapping an arm around your back in support.
“What did he mean by ‘we’? Are there other people with him?”
You let out another sob, “Yes, yes, yes- Please, please help me…” You spoke incoherently after you has answered Darby’s question, but their blood ran cold as they looked up and saw three figures standing outside of the rest stop door, their stares rapt on the van. Darby’s fur stood up on end, and after they stumbled back, tipping a few boxes over mistakenly, they pulled open the back door and fell into the snow. They scrambled into the surrounding forest, hoping to loop back while your kidnappers were distracted.
You felt the hope that you would be saved disappear with Darby into the trees, tears flowing from your eyes and down your face in grief for your potential freedom. The harsh wind from the open door felt bitterly cold. The sliding door on the side of the van was yanked open by Leonard, who looked at the open back door and the objects littered around the van from Darby’s getaway. He seethed in anger, clenching his fist. “Mickey, come with me. Danny, stay here.” As he and Mickey ran off after the cat yōkai who could ruin everything for them, Danny got into the back of the van and closed all the doors. After he re-fastened the gag around your mouth, he pet your cheek and smiled.
Darby stumbled through the trees, pushing branches out of their way and trying not to trip over roots and rocks hidden under the heavy snow. They heard shouting behind them, along with the faint sound of a pair of footsteps that weren’t their own and what sounded like something being dragged across the snow.
The farther they ran, the harder it was for them to keep their balance. They nearly slipped with every step, but they refused to let themself give up. If those criminals caught them, they would be as good as dead. Darby started to practically climb up the hill, seeing the distant light from the rest stop glowing above their head. The running and shouting was getting closer, “Get back here! You’ll ruin everything!”
They ignored every word the ogre and the eel shouted at them, only focused on their goal; get back to the stop and tell Rafferty and Juane what was going on. That was the only way they would have even a sliver of a chance saving you. The light grew brighter, they were almost there! But anything that seems too good to be true usually is, for the moment they caught a glimpse of the roof, Danny jumped in front of them from seemingly nowhere, making them stumble back.
The back of their boot snagged on a root hidden deep beneath the glimmering snow, but instead of falling back on the hill and landing upside-down, they started to roll down the hill, getting face-full after face-full of dirt, leaves, and snow. Leonard reached out to grab them, but they knocked him over so that he started to roll, too.
Darby and Leonard hit a tree, hard. It knocked the wind out of Darby’s lungs, but Leonard was able to recover faster. Darby opened their swirling eyes and saw a gun slipping out of the inside pocket of Leonard’s jacket as he was reaching out for them. Just as it fell out, they shot their hand out and gripped it like their life depended on it, which it did.
Quickly regaining their senses, Darby pushed themself back with their feet, taking advantage of Leonard’s shock to stand up and point the gun in front of them, shifting its aim between Danny, Mickey, and Leonard, who had stood up and was closing in on them with the other two.
“Come on, kid,” Danny said, “We don’t want trouble. Hand over the gun and keep your mouth shut, and nothing bad will happen to you.”
“I’m not an idiot, don’t lie to me!” Darby said, voice raised, “Stay away, or I’ll shoot you. I’ll do it!”
Danny honed in on the way they were holding the gun, and scoffed internally. They didn’t know how to use that thing. If he were to run out and grab it, he would’ve been able to push them into the stream aways down before they figured out where the trigger was.
“No, you won’t. Come on, we want to get out of here just as much as you do.”
“I bet you do. Why do you have a human?”
“It’s impolite to ask about other people’s business, dear,” he condescended, taking tiny steps forwards.
“It’s everyone’s business if you have it tied up!”
“You don’t know anything!” Leonard yelled, making Darby jump.
The moment the cat's eyes flitted away from him, Danny lunged at them. The two struggled with the gun for a few seconds before it fired into the snow, startling everyone. Darby pushed the rat off of them and made a mad dash towards the top, going as twice as fast as they had before. Crashing footsteps sounded through the forest, but this time, only in the forest. There was no fourth accomplice waiting to grab them at the stop, so they made it safely into the rest stop again, slamming the glass doors behind them. Rafferty and Juane stared at them, apt confusion on both of their faces.
“What’s wrong, Darby? What’s going on?”
The cat was out of breath, holding their hand up to their chest and wheezing. “Dan, Mick, Leonard-”
“What about them-” Rafferty began to inquire, but cut himself off at the sight of the aforementioned yōkai nearing the door, each with a menacing look and a weapon in their hand. Darby turned to face them and wondered, did they get the other two from the truck? They probably did, Darby thought, but shook their head. It wasn’t important where they got the weapons when they were closing in like a kettle of vultures to roadkill.
“What are they doing, Darby?” Juane asked, holding on to her husband's arm as they backed up out of their seats.
“They have a human tied up in their van, and they know I know it.”
The two elder yōkai gasped, holding on to each other tighter. “What are we going to do?” Juane asked, “I haven’t fought since-”
“No, no. Go hide.” Darby interrupted, “I started this. I’ll finish it.”
Rafferty and Juane looked at each other for a moment, then nodded. Darby continued to stare down the approaching criminals as the sound of swift footsteps faded behind them. Each of them had a murderous look on their face.
As they got closer and closer, Darby realized something. They had no weapon of their own. They left the crowbar in the van, and even if they did have it, they were facing three yōkai that had probably killed before. Darby never once won a schoolyard fight, what made them think they could take on three criminals? They backed up as they thought of the foolishness of their plan, mentally berating themself for their impulsiveness.
This was all their fault. They were going to be murdered, then Rafferty and Juane would probably be found and face the same fate. Then you would get carted off to who-knows-where and be subjected to who-knows-what. For the first time in months, tears welled up in Darby’s eyes as they stumbled backwards and hit the wall.
~
You squirmed across the floor towards the pile of blankets in the corner that Darby had taken refuge under. None of your captors has time to search the van. You shoved your bound arms under the blanket, feeling up and down until your hands hit the cold piece of metal. You grabbed it, and tried to tug on the knot of your ropes with the end of it as hard you could.
Minutes passed with barely any results, and you were about to give up when you felt the grip the ropes had on your arms loosen. Your soul rose and flew, and you continued to tug until they had slipped off. You pushed yourself up and started to practically throw every restraint off, cradling yourself once you threw the ropes and the gag far away from you.
The only thing you wanted to do was curl up and cry, but you had already done enough of that the past few days. You had to get out of here, maybe Darby was still alive. Maybe they were still around. Probably not, you thought to yourself. If they were fast, the Mud Dogs were faster. The last time you had tried to run, they had caught you in under a minute. But maybe there were still other people who could help you. You had been drilled countless times about how no other yōkai would like humans as much, but this could be your last chance. If they had made it to Jadetown, who knows when you would be allowed outside again? They did say they had to lay low for a while, you heard them arguing about it.
Shaking off your fears, you crawled into the driver's seat and opened the door, falling face-first into the snow. You stood on your wobbly legs and stumbled to the hood of the truck, where you saw the wide-open doors of the building your captors were in, and a bullet going into your would-be savior's head. Blood and flesh splattered all over the dark wood of the walls, and you suppressed a scream.
You fell backwards into the snow, putting a hand over your mouth and scooting away. You couldn’t find the strength to stand up. You took a glance around the parking lot. There were definitely more than two cars, but who did they belong to? You couldn’t see or hear anyone else in the building. You didn’t think they were dead. You would’ve heard screaming or a gunshot or-
You broke yourself out of your thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that. You needed to get away. If one of them turned around, your freedom would come to an end. No, you had to get into the woods. At least you could be a little concealed there. Then you could figure out what to do.
With newfound confidence and adrenaline, you made yourself stand up again. You glanced around, and saw the entrance to a hiking trail 30 yards away from you. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you stumbled to the trail, heading into more darkness.
~
The Mud Dogs walked out of the bathroom, having killed the other two yōkai that were in there and washing the blood off of their faces and hands. Leonard smoothed his hair, closing his eyes and taking a breath. It had been a long night. First, the storm. Then Darby came along. He growled at the thought of them, trying to hold himself back from kicking their body. This was all their fault. They had to lay low, and the cat almost ruined everything. He sighed. There was no use hanging up on it.
“Why is the van door open?”
Leonard and Danny snapped up at Mickey’s question, honing in on the parking lot. He was right, it was open. Tiny footsteps led to the side, going off into the forest. Leonard froze. You didn’t.
You did.
When the Mud Dogs ran out and opened the van, you were nowhere to be found. Your restraints were on the floor with a crowbar. Leonard barely bit back his scream of anger. All of the trouble they went through tonight, and now you had run off into the snowy woods without proper clothes and you were going to freeze to death if they didn’t find you on time. Just wonderful.
The three ran after your footsteps into the woods, Leonard ordering Mickey to go right after it had gotten too dark to see the forest floor. Leonard and Danny tramped forwards, pushing branches aside and keeping their ears open for any noises over the snowstorm. Danny groaned internally. Out of all the things to forget back in the Hidden City, why did it have to be the flashlight?
“Dollface! Come back!” Danny shouted, his voice echoing off the trees.
“There’s no use in yelling, Danny. They’re not going to come to us no matter how cold they are.”
“Well, at least I’m trying.” Danny mumbled, feeling his feet numb through his boots, “Maybe Mickey found them…”
“He would’ve yelled for us. Go left, I’ll keep going on ahead. They couldn't have gone far.”
You dragged your numb feet through the deep snow, trying to stay awake. The snow had soaked through your socks, which were worse-for-wear. You tried to keep yourself optimistic in spite of your numb hands and feet and exhausted mind and body. All you needed to do was make it to a road, or a house, or someone who wasn’t a criminal. That was all you…
You fell to your knees, throwing your hands in front of you to stop your nose from hitting the ground. You could barely hold yourself up, your arms shaking from weakness and the cold. Snow and ice whipped at your face, making you somehow sting and feel numb at the same time. Your attempts to push yourself up were in vain, as you fell into the snow the moment you lifted your arms. You could only turn your head to the side to avoid suffocating in the snow, and nothing else. Your thoughts felt foggy and the snow twisted to swirls in your vision. You were so cold. So tired. You just wanted to go home.
~
Danny called out your name, his ears twitching for any sort of answer or noise. Along with his insane worry, he also held anger at you. How could you do this to them? Why didn’t you just stay put?
“Hey, I found them!”
Mickey’s shout rang throughout the woods, and Danny ran towards the sound of his voice. Leonard was already there, kneeling towards your unconscious body and hoisting you off of the ground, feeling your pulse.
“Are they alive?” Danny asked, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.
“Yeah, they are, but they’re freezing. Let’s get them by that heater.”
They sped off towards the rest stop, Leonard carrying you in his arms. They reached the indoors, Mickey closing the doors behind them after he had retrieved a few lengths of rope from the van. Leonard pulled a chair in front of the heater on the left side of the room, setting you down in it. Mickey tied your arms and legs to the chair’s own limbs, making sure to tighten them to the point where you were sure to have bruises on your skin if you struggled.
Leonard cast off his jacket and threw it over you, making sure that your practically frozen fingers and feet still faced the heater. As mad as he was at you, he wouldn’t go so far as to cause body parts to fall off. He sank into a chair, leaning back and closing his eyes. It had been a long night. They just needed to sit for a while.
Danny clenched his hands around his chair, his sharp nails digging into the wood. They needed to keep you on a tighter leash. Look what you did the moment they took their eyes off of you. It was all the cat's fault. You had already gotten worked up, all antsy inside the van. Their little intervention didn’t do you any favors. Danny steeled himself. They learned something from this. You were going to learn something from this. It had been about a month since they had taken you in, and you still didn’t realize how much they cared for you. He gripped the seat in anger again. Ungrateful brat.
Mickey was grabbing random objects on the other side of the room to electrocute until they were either crispy or ash, the smell of burning filling the room. He threw his debris to the side before continuing on something else. Leonard turned his head towards his teal cohort. “Mickey! Stop that!”
Mickey gave him a death stare, but ceased his violence towards inanimate objects. He slithered over to a chair and crossed his arms, like a kid who was forced to go to their siblings piano recital.
Leonard rubbed his face with his hands. They still needed to take care of you, even if you had run off. What was the point in saving you if they didn’t take care of you afterwards? And besides, the last thing they needed was for you to get sick. Danny was the only one who really knew how to care of a sick person, and he would be fuming at you for a few days, at the very least.
He walked to the counter, taking a TV dinner and shoving it into the microwave. Once it was done, he took it out and walked over to you, pulling up a chair and sitting across from you. He grabbed your shoulder and shook you until your bleary eyes opened to a sliver.
The light was blinding after being stuck in a dark van for so long. You closed them again, but Leonard shook you again.
“Wake up,” He said.
Your entire body felt hot and cold at the same time, truly punctuating your discomfort. You were shivering and your head hurt something awful. Leonard poked a spoon against your lips. “Eat.”
You had refused to eat early in your captivity. It didn’t go well. The thought of having food shoved down your throat made you want to gag, so you opened your mouth and ate the food you were offered. You had to admit, it made you hurt a little less, having something in your stomach. Even if it was a crappy frozen dinner.
Leonard tossed out the plastic container, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door. You could vaguely hear the sound of a sink inside.
Just as you were about to try to sleep off the pain, Danny stood up. You watched him jerk his head towards the bathroom at Mickey, and the eel got up and went in. Danny walked towards you with a purpose in his steps and eyes, and he didn’t stop until he was right in front of you.
“How could you?” He almost whispered, the rage in his eyes apparent. “After everything we’ve done for you, how well we treat you, you still run from us?” He said, his voice raising, “What, do you think we’re not good enough, huh?”
Danny clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at you. “You selfish, ungrateful brat. We take such good care of you, and you just spit that goodwill back in our face.” He leaned forwards and grabbed your face, his nails digging into your cheeks. “Never do this again. Even think about it, and I’ll show you just how bad I can be.”
You started to sniffle, which turned into full-on sobbing in a matter of moments. Your cries filled Danny with even more rage. How could you be the one crying? He hadn’t even done anything that was worth spilling tears over. He gritted his teeth as his mind went blind with rage. He’d give you something to cry about.
He raised his hand, and brought it down upon your cheek.
Danny took a step back from you as your sobbing stopped for a second, and came back in full force, a bright handprint now on your cheek. A wave of guilt flashed over him, but he turned away from you so he didn’t have to look at your trembling. You deserved it, he told himself over and over.
Leonard and Mickey walk back into the room a moment later, talking in hushed voices. When he hears your crying, Leonard halts and stares at you and the blooming bruise on your cheek. His eyes widen, and Mickey looks back and forth between everyone before grinning.
“Looks like Dan got to them first,” He said, and strolled back to his seat. Leonard turned his gaze on Danny’s back with clenched fists and a twitching eye. “What were you thinking?!” He snaps, “They’re already all cold and roughed up, what if you broke them?!”
Danny scoffs, his gaze focused on the wall and all the guilt seeming to wash away from him. “Oh, please. They’re not made of glass. They deserved it.”
Leonard took a deep breath. “We’ve all had a long night. Don’t make it even longer.”
Danny didn’t respond. Leonard resisted the urge to yell at him. As much as he wanted to, he had to make sure that Danny didn’t do lasting damage. He grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and approached you, pulling up a chair.
He held your chin up with one hand and held the ice pack up to your bruising cheek with the other. By then, your sobbing had turned to quiet hiccups and sniffles, and you were merely shivering instead of shaking like a leaf. Leonard didn’t show it, but concern rose in his chest. You ran, and that deserved consequences, but you were only a human. A tiny human, at that, weak and fragile. He had heard the stories. Humans could die if they went to bed wrong. Unfortunately, his cohorts didn’t know that, if he wasn’t there to stop them, they would’ve already broken you, and then what?
He sighed and looked at you. You diverted your gaze away from him as much as you could with his grip on your face. “Hey,” He almost whispered, “I’ll tell Danny to leave you alone, but if you run again, I might not be able to stop him.”
You finally faced him as he let go of your chin, and nodded. Your cheek flared in pain as it rubbed against the ice pack.
~
The Mud Dogs loaded into their van again, the approaching dawn apparent. Fresh ropes bound your arms and legs, although the gag wasn’t as tight as to not hurt your cheek. Mickey sat next to you, leaning against the wall. When you looked into the gloomy skies of the yōkai world through your glimpses of the windshield, you imagined the sun shining on your face
~
Taglist: @yanteetle @oleander-nin
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writeouswriter · 5 months
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pls no anti ai art demagogy on my dash, thx
(X) in reference to this reblog I assume.
This is the wildest ask I’ve ever gotten.
“Please no love for the humanity of creation on my dash, please. Please no acknowledgement that art and the human experience behind those making it is inherently and fundamentally intertwined. Please no shoving the fact in my face that art is meant to connect rather than consume.
And please no pointing out the basic truth that most AI engines are built off the stolen work of others.”
Demagogy, noun: political activity or practices that seek support by appealing to the desires and prejudices of ordinary people rather than by using rational argument.
You come into MY house, you tell me what not to reblog on MY blog, and you what? Call me “irrational” and insult my understanding of the topic in the process?
Political activity, political activity... fuck off. Actors, writers, artists, those most affected by this ARE the ordinary people, and their concerns and fears surrounding this are perfectly rational.
And you know, nothing hits it home more for me than when I thought about my favourite show at the moment, the one that makes me lose my mind a thousand times over, I thought about everything in it that makes me tick, thought about both strong points and weak points, because it is flawed, god, is it flawed because people inherently are, and that’s the beauty, but mostly, I thought about the sheer amount of care/thought and depth put into it in a way I've never really seen before and in a medium/genre/whatever you'd absolutely never expect to find that thought put into, especially if taken completely at a surface level. Thought about the levels of metaphor and symbolism layered in beneath the silliness, thought about the callbacks and clever timing, thought about the behind the scenes arguments about what direction worked best for the narrative and the audience, arguments that took place because of how much they cared not just about telling a good story, but about telling one that really means something to them.
Thought about the love, the time, the excitement and the flair and personality and background and intent of each and every person behind the team bleeding its way into the scripts, into the acting, into the heart of what makes it truly what it is, and how that love bleeds into the audience as well, how that love and human connection is what prompts people to write full page essays and analyses on it, draw fanart for it, create the most beautiful fics for it, that love is what prompts them to laugh and cry and vibrate at the speed of sound thinking about it, and what prompts thousands upon thousands to come together in their appreciation for and relation to it, rallying around it like a group of cavemen around a campfire when they had never before seen the flame.
And then.... then I thought about the idea of that same show being written by an AI and genuinely felt physically ill. Because no real care will have been put into that beyond "If it looks like a TV show, sounds like a TV show, it must be a TV show." And on the surface, maybe it’d look fine, I’m sure some people wouldn’t notice. But it’d not only be made without thought, but consumed without thought. And, sure, maybe that'll fill you up in the short term, but it's gonna leave you feeling hollow and sick eventually. Because stories are not a thing to be mass produced with a random assortment of the cheapest quality materials on a conveyor belt that shovels them directly into people's throats at the most efficient speed possible, stories are not a thing meant to just be consumed! They are a thing made with intent in every aspect, even when accidental because our lives shape it subconsciously, they are a thing made with love, a thing to be savoured! And yes, for that to happen, they will take a lot of time and hard work and dedication, all of which deserve fair compensation and respect, all of which cannot just be replaced by a sham amalgamation of these things, and they will be all the better for it.
And on some level, corporations know this, and they want you to blame their shortcomings on the writers, on the artists, they want you to look at things like the strikes and those rallying against AI and get mad that they’re keeping art from the common people, or forcing them to come to this, or they want you to think they’re simply trying to make art more accessible, all the while building their conveyor belts in the background with the blood of those they’re kicking down, taking away jobs and shoving the humanity out of the picture.
Art is made to communicate, and sometimes it’s frustrating when we can’t get that communication across, when the image we want to convey is out of our skill level, our capability, when our words get tangled up, jumbled together and we need a helping hand to find the right ones again, and on this level, maybe AI could be a useful supplemental tool, or a fun little thing to mess around with, if ethically sourced, if used for good, if taking into account and graciously acknowledging exactly how it’s being used as a tool, rather than trying to pass it off as something it’s not.
But is it political, is it irrational, to merely state that the human condition cannot be replaced?
——
The unfollow button is free, I don’t work for you.
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