🎳 cw for spooky behavior?? just a bit??
Faces people know more than names
The hair is there and all the brains
Your head would mean so much to me..
Your head would mean so much to me!
Muhehehehdhghh silly mans,,,killer!Robbie real?? let's say his brainworm was a juggalo
..what happened to hi hello how are you :|
and mob Robbie doodles because he's just that silly I could not leave him out!
Btw his favorite pony is Pinkie Pie,he told me himself!!
(I wonder which would actually be his favorite though)
Crazed beetle & Dr Stone face belong to : @clownsuu
>:^]
664 notes
·
View notes
death shows no mercy, not even to it's most loyal followers, for a snake will still feast on it's owner if it's left unfed
i've been wanting to draw miteseed for a while and i guess, this is the perfect time for that :)
@sam-oberg
27 notes
·
View notes
slut era (pigiamino di pile, ciabatte pelose, vibing su loneliness di calcutta, baking robe pseudo-salutari in pasta sfoglia da portare a lavoro per pranzo nei prox giorni)
11 notes
·
View notes
The Taste of Blood
The metallic taste of blood lingered in her mouth, even as she spat it out. Her lungs were on fire, and her legs were numb. Houses, painted orange by the streetlamps, blurred past her. Breathy and gasping pants tore from her lips, and tears spilt from her eyes. She couldn't hear anything but her own deafening heartbeat and the sound of booted feet hitting the cobblestone pavement – hers. But also someone else's. How the Hell did this happen?
The cold wind bit at Vic's face - its freezing, sharp teeth pierced her skin, and its tight, frigid grip enveloped her entire body. She warmed herself up, drawing the little heat in the air towards her as Magic surged in her veins – and immediately, she felt a hungry gaze impale her. She sped up into a brisk walk, and before long, she found herself abandoning the groceries she had been carrying and started running down the dark, cobbled streets – the familiarity of them, once comfortable, now only made her heart hammer against her chest harder. Vic nervously chewed her lip – not realising she drew blood – knowing she had a long way to go.
She was suddenly wrenched back into the moment by the sudden adrenaline of feeling a hot breath on her neck. She spun around immediately, using the momentum of her whole body to lean into a swing. The hit connected, though not as she expected. The figure had caught her by the wrist – perhaps unaware of the Magic flowing into her arm, causing steam to erupt from the figure's grasp. With a hiss, the smell of burnt flesh filled the air.
Unphased, the figure launched forward, trying to grab her with its non-burnt hand. She ducked, twisting her arm out of the figure’s grip before channelling Magic again. Vic outstretched her arm, even as she quickly backed up. Streetlamps flickered, as did the lights in the few houses with them still on. Electricity arced down her arm, forming intricate webs between her fingers. Then she clenched her fist – causing lines of lightning to shoot into the figure from everywhere around it, be it streetlamps, powerlines, or otherwise. The figure – a pincushion full of lightning bolts – spasmed and sank to its knees.
Vic turned around and started sprinting as fast as she could. She didn’t look back – not even when she once again heard footsteps behind her. As the buildings passing by stretched higher towards the sky and the streets narrowed, she whipped into an alley – delighting in the whoosh of wind as her pursuer barrelled past the sharp turn. Knowing she didn’t buy herself much time, she stopped to catch her breath for but a second before breaking into a dead sprint down the dark, all-too-narrow-alley – straight towards the dead end. She channelled Magic as she ran, gathering air below her feet before leaping. With a downward flourish of her arms and a flick of her wrists, she expelled the channelled Magic – causing a surge of air to propel and carry her further upward. Her outstretched arms – reaching for the edge of the roof – found no purchase as she had felt a tight grasp settle over her ankle, dragging her down forcefully. Vic slammed against the damp stone with her chest, all the air in her lungs dissipating. Her heart sank. And teeth sank into her.
The metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth, even as he greedily gulped it down. Albion's fingers sank into the flesh of the Magus – relishing as it buzzed with remnant Magic. She wasn’t all that powerful and didn’t seem to have a Signature – she tasted bland. Alas, it will have to do. As the woman’s Magic coursed through him, Albion felt the burnt flesh of his hand start to heal, and he smiled to himself. His toothy grin was not at all ruined by the blood dripping down his teeth.
4 notes
·
View notes