#murderbaes

[eat-yourheart]

Finally finished my half of the art trade with @spice-and-pills! Happy holidays Pepper!

[666-n3k0-666]

More Ket lol, he's just hanging out totally not showing some muscle to MC

[eat-yourheart]

Some lil guys that @aconitumwounds gifted to me!! 

I have lots of plans for an original story and whump stuff with Fawn! I’m going to create a little whumpee for her to beat around and write plenty of stories! She’s so dainty and small, definitely not keeping captives as dolls in her basement...:3c 

Doll is going to be a Mason MC! Just a easily spooked & traumatized little cat who’s been sold to one too many owners. She’s a pained cougar with a biting problem, so we’ll see if Mason makes it out alive...

Powder!! Powder is just my little tiny baby and I am going to feed him to people’s beastkin OCs like fine ground Lapin >:)

[tilmarrowdries]

—     Art Teacher     —

Tarren caught a glimpse of Lawrence’s latest “art project”, and as a fellow artist, he is very intrigued. 

⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶⁖⫶

  Images of bloody hair littered in flowers, of a splayed spine filled lovingly with herbs, flash in Tarren’s mind as he knocks on his nervous friend’s apartment door. Tarren met the scruffy, muscular blonde in a bar while on this fun two-week-long get-away to the city. They got on well, and Lawrence let Tarren walk him home at Tarren’s insistence. All the way up to his door, as Tarren coaxed. 

  Tarren had only caught a glimpse of her, this temptress, this pale beauty. She was clearly not meant to be visible from the door, but Tarren did see, and he felt, and he wondered, and he dove within the waves of curiosity. 

  So, he knocks. 

  “Lawrence? Lawrence, darling! It’s Tarren, from last night." No response from the dark, covered windows. “Lawrence? Please do pardon my intrusion, I just have a query for you about the girl-!” Tarren cuts off his shouting as a crash and shuffling sounds from inside, followed by quickly thumping footsteps. 

  “Get inside.” Lawrence answers the door shirtless, face twisted up and mouth grimacing, flashing a small skinning knife. 

  “Oh now now, none of that mess, darling,” Tarren chuckles, flashing his own knife tucked into the inside of his shirt. Lawrence looks highly unamused, but Tarren, unaware, shoves past him into the apartment. Lawrence, seemingly shocked by this bold little bird now rummaging in his home, lowers his knife and stares blankly after. 

  Tarren inspects the whole of the apartment until- Yes, there she is! Just as beautiful and artistic and lovingly crafted as his glimpse implied, oh!

  “Oh~” he gasps, turning to Lawrence with a lovestricken smile. “Law, sweetie, why didn’t you just tell me?”

  Lawrence’s face is twisted in what could be shock or maybe embarrassment, frozen in place a few paces away as his art rests in the hands of a near-stranger. But rather than horror or disgust, Tarren is blushing wildly, hugging the flower-coated decapitated head and spine to his chest; like it doesn’t matter, like killing and maiming and making anew is a normality to him. Lawrence doesn’t know what to feel, this is uncharted territory, this is new, this is... scary. The pure lust and shameless joy on the man’s face is scaring him. How can he be so shameless while clutching a corpse? Lawrence can never hold the dead without shame. 

  But rather than say any of that, Lawrence whispers: “ You... need to leave. Now.”

  “Oh come now, darling!” Tarren snaps, tossing the head back into her box. “Look I love it, your art, it’s beautiful! Sure your methods are brutish and messy, but dear-” Tarren rushes up to Lawrence who raises his knife to strike, but Tarren just touches Lawrence’s shoulders, eyes wild. “Dearest, let me teach you! Our passions, our visions combined- Imagine it!” Tarren is bright red, eyes wide and pupils blown. Lawrence can’t help his own dusting of pink along his cheeks at the physical contact. 

  “What- What do you mean? Teach me. Teach?” Lawrence’s voice is rising in volume, when Tarren’s hands come to rest on his cheeks, and he presses their lips together. 

  Lawrence blusters and shoves Tarren back hard, knocking him to the floor. Tarren screams in frustration and pulls his knife, lunging forwards and sticking the blade into Lawrence’s calf and twisting. Lawrence shouts and collapses heavily, rivulets of blood spurting from him instantly. Lawrence dropped his knife in the fall, and Tarren kicks it away, standing over him, uninjured. 

  “Testy, testy, aren’t you, dearest?” Tarren pants out. “No matter, I forgive you! But babe, you’ll bleed out very quickly without my help, you see, and I do think that makes you indebted to me for at least one art lesson, no?” 

  Lawrence is groaning in pain, clutching the wound and staring wide-eyed at the dark red puddle forming below him.

  “Art lesson? What are you talking about? You stabbed me! You- you stabbed me!”

  “I know, but you started it! I was merely defending myself. Now do you want my help stopping the blood or not? Trust me, I’m a doctor!” 

  Lawrence stares at his pale leg drenched in red, and realizes very quickly that he’s dying. The familiar ebb and flow of the river tugs the edges of his blurry vision. 

  “Fine, help me,” Lawrence shouts hoarsely. Tarren grins and pulls his emergency kit out of his back pocket, bending down and applying pressure with a random shirt off the floor. He hums an old fishing tune until the bleeding stops. Lawrence breathes heavily, staring him down with wary, reddened eyes. 

  “You’ll learn to appreciate it soon, darling, swear it.” Tarren pulls out and unfolds a small IV bag and wipes his arm clean, readying to draw his own blood to give to his patient. “By the time we’ve finished our lessons I’d wager you’ll understand beauty and the art of love like never before!” He strokes Lawrence’s cheek softly as those wide baby blues meet his hazel. Lawrence pulls away softly, unsure and vaguely terrified by the oddity of this man. 

  “I’ll make an artist of you yet, Lawrence Oleander~” 

[strudelbumsen]

Sammy has a check up~!

Avery belongs to @slashesotron.

Avery was the first character in this community I grew attached to, so now that I have been confident enough to post my own art, I definitely wanted to draw my little killer with him!

[strudelbumsen]

26 for both Leigh and Sammy?

"What would it take to “break” your character? What would destroy them completely?"

For Leigh, honestly hardly anything could! She's not human and has about the same amount of pain receptors as fish. Fish do not have the neurological capacity for a conscious awareness of pain (which is one reason she enjoys being beat up so much, it's just a funny little sensation!) However, if you kept her away from water long enough, she would become very, very depressed, homesick to the point of suicidal tendencies. It would only take a month or so to break her down to a shell that way (pun intended)!

Sammy is an easy one! Though a very dark one. See, Sam has never experienced significant trauma (outside of medical trauma and an alcoholic mother), and ey deeply, deeply fear rape. Ey sort of have fearmongered themselves into ruminating over it constantly due to being so involved in social justice surrounding assault victims. Ey'd be completely broken for years by even one instance of sexual abuse against em.

Thanks for asking!

[strudelbumsen]

This is a story 'bout Sammy His father sent him out to buy bread But Sammy didn't feel like walkin' He wished he could fly instead

This is a new OC named Sammy! 

Ey use ey/em/eir pronouns but if you don’t know how to use them he/him is just fine. Sammy is a “special snowflake gone wrong” kind of guy. Ey hunt down racists, misogynists, and p/dophiles, then kill them for kicks! Ey stream it to the darknet as a get-rich-quick scheme. That terrifying mask is the last thing those pigs get to see!

Ey are very much an asshole, though whether it is good natured or not depends on how much ey like you. Ey are Deaf and run a tumblr about social justice! Eir outward “caring nature” is VERY performative in nature though, and ey tend to carry a lot of unrighteous anger in them, leading to em lashing out at people eir close to.