I have been drawing some random Mermay stuff cuz i love the thought so much! Just my Skeleton OC hanging out with some familiar faces (they arenāt mine but they are so fun to make versions of)
I loved aquariums when I was a younginā so thatās the scene, very loosely! The aspiring vet getting a little too up close to the critters. Could be a story eventually? I have ideas for stuff, thatās for sure.
But until that day, A little doodling provided by my brain weasels from scenes I might to paper .
I finally got around to posting my ghostly story on AO3! It is my sad attempt at comedy, but an attempt nonetheless!
Check it here! Ghost of a Chance
Itās about living in a haunted house and learning to get along. Also hating some spooky small town vibes, cuz gotta have a creep town rural area which gives MC the creeps.
It has been a bit. I had no Idea how busy I was going to be! But I was able to eke out a smidge of time to finish chapter 5. And kinda figure out how to add images! I put them under the cut because they also go back to earlier chapters. Most of them are doodles, not super polished and shaded (and a little poorly done) but they are made! And practice makes adequate! Sooo! Yeah, hope folks enjoy!
Also, please keep in mind the tags on the work and be safe while reading!
Link to the story!
What do you call the opposite of being creatively bankrupt? Like where you have so many things floating around in your head, none of them decide to come out in any coherent way. And trying to sit down to make them shape into anything just ends with a headache. Is there a word for that? I would like there to be.
If there isnāt I propose: Bees Through a Straw. Or maybe Traffic Jam in Rush Hour. Either way, all the thoughts are fighting for dominance to see who gets to squeeze through a narrow opening first. They keep getting mixed up and stuck!
So I have decided it is a lubrication issue, thus I have resorted to searching for creativity WD-40. If i find some Iāll share!
UH, DRAGON... YOU SHOULD CHECK THE PERSON'S TUMBLR BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO TAG THEM!
Anyways... I wanna hear a bit of Dusty June!
Sorry, I only know four people on hereā¦.. And everyone else kinda did the game before it got to meā¦so yeahā¦ I guess it works better if yaā know more folksā¦ or scream into the voidā¦
But Dusty June is the longform story Iām working on right now. It has magic systems, found family, violence, and a lot of Bitties. The premise is about following a Bitty from creation to conclusion. Of the little one surviving the facility, living in a store, getting adopted, and having a family. The trials and tribulations of being an exotic pet in a world where pets have limited rights and Bitties even less so. But the advent of magic can turn the tides in favor of becoming a person in such a difficult world to be in.
There are also soul mechanics, which unlock magic! Itāll be very fun to explore. But basically, the better friends you are with a Bitty, the stronger the magic you both unlock. Also, the Bitties can transform depending on their environment. They start as relatively blank slates that adapt over time to take on different traits and attributes! Or using bonds and souls to reach out and heal each other!
It has sooo much lore! I spent way too long on the backstory of the world, explaining how Bitties came to be and where they come from! The spoilers are under the cut if you wanna see āem!
So basically the bitties are soul shards from destroyed timelines! In ye olde game of undertale, I imagine that the fragments of monsters and timelines have to go somewhere after the erasure. Since energy cannot be created or destroyed! So those shards become coalesced into Bitties if there is a place for them to be! Humans of the setting discovered this and purposefully interact with the barrier of their universe to siphon the energy as fuel, inadvertently pulling bits of monsters in as well. The shards are unstable and need to feed off of energy to survive. If they feed off of each other, they remain unchanged. But if they feed off individuals, elements, and environments; their traits can change. Depending on the affinities or elements that is what determines the AU they can shift into!
Oh my god tell me all about Fred's Community I MUST KNOW ā¤ļø
It is a surface timeline, the monsters are free and wanting to integrate. They realize there are cultural differences that need to be addressed, peace talks that need to be made, and while having a Mascot on the news is a step; it can only reach so many people. Monsters are used to thinking of the distant future From needing to survive trapped underground for so long, they can see how such limited perspectives can unfold into conflict from past experiences. So far only elderly and the occasional morning news watcher are tuning in or calling with questions, itās not enough coverage for successful peace. Especially with how the news gets shifted and twisted, or interviews hold such targeted and derisive questions. The Monsters are still trying to flow into society, their resources are limited, and they are restricted in movements for āsafetyā.
They do have TV and some library resources with their still limited freedom, so they get into researching the best ways and most successful outreach programs. They stumble on the Public Broadcasting Network, and a particular individual who moved the hearts of many and raised a generation with acceptance and kindness. Fred Rogers and his magical neighborhood.
The Monsters were inspired, especially: Papyrus the Monster Mascot who was heading the research with his hope and dedication! Paps was enamored (platonically) and proposed the idea for the show!
The monsters work together with their limited resources, upcycled supplies, their own music, tech, and a little magic to hold it all together. Making their own puppets, stages, and equipment.
When itās time for Surface IDās Papyrus accidentally ends up with the name Fred through a series of comical events at the registry. Turns out that underpaid government employees donāt understand skeletal comedy routines. And they didnāt want to be accidentally racially insensitive, so they accepted āReady For Freddy Papyrusā as his official name. Sans is āWhile Lyle Sans Serifā.
So Papyrus, having this new ID, a dream, and a role model in Mr Rogers; He makes Fredās community. It teaches people about Monsters, Friendship, and Life lessons.
I have a pic of some of the homemade puppets. All the monsters get involved in the show.
I kinda wanna play cuz I was tagged By @raining-rays, but I have more WIPS than folks. Hereās the post I was poked in! And the rules!
Rules: make a post with all of the names of your WIPs, and tag as many people as you have WIPs. people send an ask about the work that most intrigues them, then post a snippet or tell them something about it!
So, I guess I can poke back? A little nervous to bother people but here I go!
Dusty June, an Undertale Lamia Bitty story (That I actually have stuff written for)
An Unnamed Sea Monster, a story about some researchers who get lost at sea and find more than they were bargaining for.
Wander Dream, a Dreamtale story about a corrupted Dream that goes very unexpectedly. (Posted a little about it too)
Fredās Community, Undertale AU where Papyrus becomes Mr. Rogers like TV host.
Haunted Living, A story about getting a haunted house because over 100 disappearances make it affordable (100k, 4 bedroom place with a front yard, back yard, and two car garage) You and the ghosts are gonna learn to get along if it kills yaā
I have a looot more, but that is probably enough for now! And I have some doodles and snippets to share!
and for the peeps Iām poking: @wendelin-utt @bonesgalore @merrinbrite Sorry to bother!! I only know 4 people!
My brain was itchy for deep sea shenanigans, so I went down memory lane to @aka-indulgence ās Kraken and Deep sea siren babies. But my noggin desired more. What if the sea exploration was similar to Atlantis: The Lost Empire, a whole crew in a ship seeking riches or glory! Cobbled together folks from different walks of life manning a giant sub. They have been down for a long time, almost desperate to find the lost civilization but losing hope as the days tick by.
They eventually find something, something big. One of the forgotten war machines made by Atlantis was found instead of the city. An ancient weapon of mass destruction, left to rot for epochs.Ā Through some clever engineering, a spark from the engine is delivered to the limp golem of metal and stone. It wakes up, but it is a war machine without a purpose. The damage it sustained changed it, the crew might not have found riches, but they do have something to bring home, in the form of a giant Kraken that is devotedly following the ship.
Give the big boi a hug, itās all he wants. Really.
I has posted the second chapter of my Snek Snoodle Fic on AO3! I am really happy about it! And still have the jitters! But the good kind, Iāve never done stuff like this before. And I like it!
Here is the Story!
Check it if you wanna, the tags are spooky but itās not too dark yet. Iāll be sure to mark when that stuff applies!
I will some day learn how to imbed images on AO3ā¦that day is not todayā¦
But I did it! I wrote and posted a thing! I donāt know if itās good, but I like it. And I hope others like it too! No one has to, but i hope they do?
Itās the first chapter of my story A Tail of Dusty June
Moment of shamelessness. I love to read @llamagoddessofficial imagines about forest gods on tumblr! I love mystical forces of nature that love to cuddle. I canāt recall seeing much about her Horrorfell boi Copper being an extra big forest/mountain dweller, so my brain spat outā¦ What if boi is volcano? A volcano with metals, crystals, and life! That wellā¦ went downhill as most horror does. His volcano exploded and heās a little crispy cuz of it. But he still a plant boi that is very warm!
I wrote more about what could have happened under the cut. He is a total cluster Dinos, mountain creatures, and volcano elements! The trees on him are very very big, and so is he.
Volcano Forest God. Used to have a beautiful sprawling mountain range, covered in amazing plants and life of all kinds spanning the vast altitudes and low valleys. Hidden within the mountains were multitudes of precious metals and gemstones that were so plentiful they breached the surface. Plants intertwined with beautiful rocks and the waters glittering with sedimentary gold. An ancient land of fantasy with crystal shimmering lakes and flowing rivers from snowmelt, it was a fertile paradise. The God, while finicky, loved to watch the Humans and let some live in his hills. Indulging their journey deep into the forests and woods, enjoying the offerings they made to him and letting them flourish. Humans of course wanted to truly colonize the lush land and plunder the riches beyond what they already had, burning down swaths of forest and decimating the lowlands beneath the peaks. Hollowing out mines for resources, stripping the land, quarrying the stone. The deeper they destroyed, the more riches they found. The betrayal and poisoning of the lands led the God into a violent frenzy fueled by hurt, trying to rid the place of the humans that took for granted the godās previous kindness. The rage of that God knew no bounds, lashing out with as much pain as he was inflicted, everything boiling over as the largest peak of the mountain range turned out to be a volcano, or became a volcano with the godās burning hatred. The volcano went off alongside the God's fury, completely exploding and wiping out the humans the god once loved. With the volcano erupting, it buried the territory with ash and molten rock, the land could no longer be colonized with toxic volcanic fumes leeching from the fissures left in the ground. Massive rocks had launched into the skies leaving pockets for ash and water to settle, the new poison lakes bubble with heat, geysers of hot steam regularly erupt. The tallest mountain is gone with only a large molten crater being created from the massive explosion. The mountain range is in constant fluctuation between molten heats and icy colds from the bipolar moods of the god within. Lava rock and ash litter the lands, while they are extremely fertile, life cannot grow back in the desolate lands until the rage of the God is cooled. The ricochet of loneliness and sadness makes unending storms pelt the land with hail, rain, winds, and lightning. The rage and hate that burns evaporates the lands of moisture and makes the waters boil, with unforgiving storms lashing the environment from his moods. If the temperature stabilized enough, rains could probably return and make the crater into a beautiful hot spring, the freezing could subside letting plants flourish again. Very sparse but extremely medicinal plants still litter the peaks, only the most hardy of life persists.
This is a little short about Flash going hunting. It has some mature themes and implications about nefarious misdeeds that can occur at a drunken college house party. Reader discretion is advised as there is drinking and mentions of illicit substances. Also, keep in mind that Flash is basically a vampire so themes associated with that should also be expected.
The rest of the story is under the cut! Enjoy!
Uni-Fresh (Flash)
Flash rolls up to the University Dorms on his blades; being a fellow student, his ID works like a charm to allow him through the gates into the main housing area. He's hungry and due for a serious pick-me-up, but not the kind a usual energy drink or granola could fix. Right now heās in the need of a kind of meal his entire existence hinges upon.
Ebbot-U is the perfect hunting ground for a parasite such as himself, any evidence of his presence is easily able to be waved away by usual college antics. There's always a party of some kind going on where students are getting wasted and someone looks sick the next day, probably a hangover. Or they might be indulging in those plants humans enjoy so much, too stoned to notice if they wake up feeling funny. At the very least, unsuspecting STEM students are shambling about during the weirdest hours; looking half alive already and sporting a pale complexion from never seeing the sun, poor diet, lack of sleep, or just stress. No one would ever notice the effects of a drain, long as heās careful he won't get caught snacking on someone.
He can hear a real rager of a party in the distance towards the Frats section of the student housing district and figures he'll do a good deed tonight. Those kinds of ragers always attract stumbling folks too sloshed to remember his face, or that consent still exists even when under the influence. Plus if heās a good samaritan itāll ease his mind for what heās about to do. He might be a soul sucking parasite, no heās not in law school, but heās begun to feel more in recent years; as much as a soulless creature can. Pretending to be a functional citizen comes with making attachments, a moral compass of right and wrong, spending actual time with the creatures he eats. All that time spent adds up eventually, along with a higher energy cost just to exist to keep up the persona. Go figure, eating more gives him enough energy to care. He doesn't want to lose the sense of sentience and self he worked hard to cultivate; So he picks up the speed towards the sounds of jubilation over at house Beta Kappa Theta for his meal.
Beta Kappa Theta is THE biggest frat house on campus. They are notorious for hazing, āPranksā going too far, āboys being boysā, sneaking elicit substances, and wild parties that would get anyone in a regular neighborhood facing the cops for noise complaints. Too bad those kids are often too rich to face consequences, as far as they are aware, they are able to get away with anything. Folks like that are wonderfully unsuspecting, making it the perfect place on campus for him to stake out a snack. Heās eaten at places like this in the past, even before monsters crawled out of the mountain, thank the stars for that. He can wander around in broad daylight these days without being screamed at or chased. Now folks just cross the street suspecting he crawled out from under a rock, so he can casually skate up the sidewalk towards the imposing house without it causing a scene.
Flash is just rolling up, even outside he can already smell the hormones and alcohol. Young adults freshly released into the world and discovering that freedom is a double-edged sword of faff about and find out. He might be able to prevent a few life altering consequences during his own less than scrupulous activities. 'Looks like the upper classmen are throwing an orientation party for the newbies, inviting all the freshmen to get wasted. P E R F E C T.' He might not be a moral paragon given what he eats and how he has to eat it, but protecting folks and sticking it to assholes soothes something deep inside of him. Especially if it's easy, heās not one for hassle.Ā
Flash takes off his wheels and walks up to the door like he owns the place, not even bothering to knock. It's an open invite party after all, designed to attract as many newbies as possible, so the whooping and hollering is expected as a fresh victim enters the premises. Too bad for them, Flash is here to make his own victim, unfortunately for the unsuspecting perpetrator heās bound to run into here. A red solo cup full of the strongest alcohol he can smell has been shoved into his hand immediately upon entrance. The music is blaring, the lights are loud, and there's not a reasonable adult in sight. Only children pretending to be grown up and pressuring each other into drinking poison.Ā
Flash cheers back, lifting his cup and downing it. He personally hates consuming anything that can alter the state of his hostās body, but fitting in is more important right now to his survival and success, so he presses on. Either way, with enough magic forced into the right places, he can amplify the processing of toxins so he isnāt taken down too far. Being unaware reminds him of the darker days in his past so he avoids it if he can.
He is celebrated with shoves and back-slaps as he's handed a new and somehow fuller cup just as strong as the first; being encouraged to play more drinking games further in with a few slurred words and shoves. He's got other games in mind, with the levels of inebriation around him, he is certainly bound to win. In fact, there's a glorious target in front of him. There's an upper classman, built like a member of the football team, even taller than Flash by a bit, wearing a letterman jacket of the Frat, and exuding some unsavory intent. The guy is pretending to be hammered, acting the part of drunk and talking way too loud. He's standing above a clearly uncomfortable freshman and trying to get the poor adult-kid to drink more. The freshman is desperately trying to say 'no' but Jock over there might never have grown out of high school, clearly not used to being told off, and insisting on just āone more drinkā.
It's not cool to pressure someone like that, pretty predatory actually. Flash almost frowns at the scene, he knew that something like this would be here, in fact it's what he's hunting for. But that doesn't mean he likes it, being around such twisted vibes never sit well with him. āWell time to eat and do a good deed.ā Flash thinks to himself. He strolls up to big and buff Mr 'No-means-Yes' and gives him a tap on the shoulder. Time to give this sleaze a taste of being the prey.
"Sup Brotato, what kinda games you got here. I'm looking to have a radical time in this howze" he makes sure to sell the bit he might be tipsy, so he sways and 'stumbles' as his glasses give a wink. Heās been acting for a long, long time so his part is very convincing. He even smells like alcohol from his drink earlier to match his performance. It's enough of a distraction for the freshmen to flee the scene and hopefully leave the party. Mr. Letterman gives a slow blink before the gears in his head start to turn, probably trying to figure out how to deal with an inebriated āMonsterā. Monsters, while on campus, are exceedingly sparse; never really going to parties or partaking in substances. The whole lot have been straight laced as possible in attempts to prevent conflicts with humans, so Flash is a rare and unusual potential target.Ā
Seems to take a second for the guy to comprehend his next move and Flash swears he almost smells smoke as Tall and Buff decides to finally switch targets. A twisted, vulgar grin slides onto Jocks' face as some kind of idea forms. The Jock opens his mouth releasing a miasma of alcohol scented stank with each slurred word, Flash can tell the guy is barely buzzed, just playing up the act of too drunk to function. Super uncool, likely using his tolerance and size to out drink other folks at the party. Flash has seen this before, and tends to step in if he can, itās easy eating making himself the target.Ā
The guy really crowds into Flashās space "Heeeeyyyy, you're pretty colorful and seemās like you could use a good time." Mr Jacket leaned himself over to touch Flash, but a barely perceptible dodge has the lame dude almost tripping trying to pull off a casual pose with his swagger. His athleticism has him recovering quick though, and certainly not displaying the reflexes of a drunk, "There's a whole lotta extra sauce in my room if you wanna try it. I think you should come with me for a reaaal partyyy~. You Monsters never wanna have fun!" āThat isnāt suspicious at all, certainly not with that slimy tone, perfectly innocentāā¦ Flash flips his true body over in his hostās skull, his closest approximation to an eye roll unseen behind his shades; but Flash should count himself lucky this has gotten so easy in recent years.
Flash nods 'eagerly' and fakes a stumble while joining the Jock to avoid another grab attempt. "Sure broski, I'm in it to win it. Who doesnāt love a little fun." Some finger guns, a bright smile, and Flash is so tantalizingly close to a meal. Jock is happy that his false-drunken charisma seems to have paid off and leads Flash straight upstairs to a place that smells vaguely of Cheetos, drugs, must, musk, and mushrooms. It seems like this den of masculinity hasn't seen clean laundry in years. Flash does his best not to step on anything too nasty and moves closer to the bed. Still playing up being too drunk to function himself, he positions himself to move swiftly if he needs to.
Jock closes and locks the door, even facing away Flash can hear the guy licking his lips. Flash suppresses a shudder wanting to get this over with before he loses his appetite. The football bro grabs some little pink pills from under the mattress, they werenāt even in a bagā¦just looseā¦āewwwā. The guy then holds the pills out to Flash saying to take all of them for "a goooood time." Flash feigns taking them, stashing them in his skull but not swallowing. The sports bro nods in approval, deciding to turn around to find something else under his filthy bed. With the music so loud, and everyone downstairs so inebriated, it's the perfect time to strike before Flash gets too icked out.
Flash locks in, pausing his swaying, all of his usual movements stop. Each of the little motions that make him seem more alive have ceased. Even his glasses are blank with the switch to focused hunting. The smile slides from his face and with a light clicking-twitch of the hands, he readies his claws to subdue the would-be offender. It's easy to catch the Jock off guard and pin this roided out mess of a human to the bed, Flash isnāt called Flash because heās slow. Using one hand, Flash can cover Jockās mouth while making sure to apply just enough pressure beneath the jaw to make him pass out. Jock slumps as he quickly loses consciousness, going completely limp under his hold. Flash carefully adjusts the guy on the bed, making sure the guy is still breathing but unconscious and all before he starts.
A tentacle slips from under Flashās sleeve and rests on Jockās chest. Right over the soul where he can start leeching the vital energy housed within. Flash has to be careful, so, so careful and not take too much. He can finally feed, but he canāt afford to mess up as always. If he takes too much, there will be an investigation and being the only āMonsterā in the party would make him prime suspect. He isnāt even a Monster, not the species anyway, either way heās always pretending to be something heās not. Moments like this he can take a break. Let the mask slip to be the creature he was born as, if only for a moment.
Flash puts in so much effort to make others comfortable and keep himself unassuming, approachable, ordinary. Always wearing an easy going smile. Being laid back and carrying an open, relaxed posture. Dressed in bright and welcoming colors with fun badges and ācuteā images. Keeping his voice even and jovial, a fun guy to joke with. All of that meticulously crafted persona to blend in and avoid notice, so he can hunt and live in peace. So much goes into his act it's not funny as he pretends his life to be. Carefully moving his chest fractions of centimeters in intervals to replicate breathing. Making sure to keep enough extra magic in his hosts' bones to give off warmth. Not smiling too wide or jittering too much. He doesn't need to blink beneath his glasses, thank goodness, but he does make sure to shift and sway slightly. Not too rapidly because sudden twitching is scary. Staying too still causes others discomfort just as much. They notice if heās too alien, but being so close to something familiar but not quite right causes real panic.
All these efforts have to tie together to keep anyone from knowing he's just a hungry little creature piloting a husk. A husk that regularly needs fuel and upkeep if he wants to keep living the life he carved out for himself. It's so hard to not slip up, and the second he does others can pick up that something is wrong. It is practically written into their instincts to sniff him out as an other. Just like how the will to live at all costs is carved into his very being, since he has no soul to hold such programming. What's more terrifying than something different, is something that's too similar but not quite right. Human and Monster alike fear him the second he stops trying to be like them.
It's so exhausting to pretend, but he wouldn't have easy access to food otherwise. He has little moral problems with killing and death in spite of how heās grown to dislike suffering in others. It could be something he was born with or something that developed, heās not sure where it came from. He just noticed one day that his concern for his own safety has marginally extended to others. So he attempts to not disturb too many lives, justifying it with his own preservation and he keeps himself reigned in. Which is hard, in fact, ending lives is far easier than self control. But he's seen others lose themselves taking too much, or slipping up and getting put down like rabid dogs. He wasnāt the only one originally, but he is the last. He might not be overflowing with emotions, but seeing enough atrocities that would tear down a more emotional creature has made him decide to prevent some tragedies if they are within his reach. Heās no hero, and if doing a good deed costs no effort, he might as well do it. Even rats have some semblance of compassion, so he likes to consider himself a holder of a little bit.
So he ends his feeding early, even though he could still use more. He'd rather be alive, tired, and pretending than dead because he got too greedy. So he'll be careful, always careful. He's gotten enough from Mr peer pressure to last a week or more if he doesnāt over exert himself. And Mr 'No-means-Yes' will just think he had a crazy party and a wild hangover. Flash slips out of the window and makes his way back to his own hiding hole to rest. School starts soon anyways, and he's gotta look excited for classes. He doesn't mind learning, but heās not just in school to feed. He's heard from everyone everywhere that education means money, and money means protection. He refuses to lose the life he's painstakingly worked for. So he'll keep playing his cards just right to blend in and secure himself in this world. Camouflage is his specialty after all, he just needs to set himself up with enough money to disappear.
He wheels off into the distance and 'poofs' as soon as he's out of sight, so he can rest before tackling whatever the next day will bring.
Just drawing for the sake of drawing. I love stories, characters, and tales they can tell. I always pictured this one as some kind of guardian. I just like it. A creechur.
