#original stuffs

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Stay Out of the Basement [Yandere Monster x Reader]

Title: Stay Out of the Basement [Yandere Monster x Reader]

Synopsis: There's something in the basement and it wants you so bad.

For Horrorfest request:

“Theres something in the basement” trope

Word count: 671

Notes: yandere, monster

There’s something in the basement. 

There’s something in the basement, and you don’t think it’s human. 

There’s something in the basement, and you think it’s in love with you.

--

You don’t know exactly when your thoughts on the thing in the basement went from “It wants to kill me and possibly eat me” to “It’s fallen in love with me and probably doesn’t want to eat me.” 

Maybe around the time that you started finding scraps of plants--vegetation and dirt with hints of flowers, scraggling things that barely saw any light--on  your kitchen counter, complimented with a telltale track of dirty footprints leading to the basement stairs. Yes, that was around the time that you began to think whatever was in the basement had feelings for you. 

The flowers (and dirt); then came trinkets. Little rocks, sometimes jagged, sometimes smooth. One morning, there was some sort of black stone, shined and polished. You didn’t want to touch it--something about it made your mind absolutely forbid it. You scooped it into the trash with a paper plate and took it to the curb that morning. 

If the thing in the basement minded, it didn’t let you know. It only left more gifts. More footprints. More--and you swear this must be what it’s doing--signs that it exists and it likes you. Tapping noises from behind the doorway leading to the basement stairs--tap-tap, tap; jars of long-forgotten canned goods left in front of the door, black-mud streaks on the bases. 

You haven’t seen it, but you know it’s there. And you know this won’t last forever. You know it won’t be satisfied with leaving gifts and trinkets and tap-tap, tapping to get your attention. 

No one believes you. Not your parents, not your friends, not the police. Not the therapist you called out of desperation. 

You’re alone--only oh, how you wish that were really the case. 

--

There’s something in the basement. 

There’s something in the basement, and it wants you. 

There’s something in the basement, and it’s coming up the stairs. 

--

Your fingers grip the edge of your comforter, but you don’t dare bring it up over your face.  You want to see it coming. 

And you know it’s coming. It’s only a matter of time now. You can hear it. 

You first heard it coming up the basement stairs--thudding, thudding, thudding--and now you hear it coming down the hall. It’s not the steps of a person. It’s a heavy sound, almost dragging and--oh, someone help you--slightly damp. Like the basement. Like the sweat on the back of your neck, staining your pillow beneath you.

Like the stupid tears pooling at the edge of your eyes. What good would they do you? None. 

They fall anyway when the half-closed door creaks open.

Your bedside lamp is on, and if you were smarter, you would have turned it off 10 minutes ago. It would be must easier to face this reality in the dimness of the night, if you couldn’t see exactly what was standing in front of you.

It’s tall and broad shouldered. 

It has a mouth and eyes and a face, yes, and you might be tempted to call it humanoid. There are two arms and two legs, heavy and covered in something black, like it’s painted itself with dirt and mud. Its skin is splotches of green, dark and faintly damp, like moss growing at the edge of a swamp. Two yellow eyes blink at you and you don’t think you’re imagining it when your brain interprets its gaze as… fond. Loving. Wanting. 

It opens its mouth and there are teeth--sharp--and you think it must be trying to smile. Trying to smile and then say something to you.

What finally comes out, warbled and deep, is your name. 

You do pull the covers over your head, then.

Not that it does you any good.

--

There’s something in the basement.

There’s something in the basement, and you’re there with it now. 

And neither of you will ever leave again.

[everymariogalaxy]

hey everyone! whilst i'll still be posting the odyssey pieces about once a week, i wanted to let y'all know that i'm starting work on my webcomic! its an original story, but if y'all like my art, i'd really appreciate you checking it out!

i have a summary on the comic blog (which i'll link below!) but the jist is that its about a worn, jaded person travelling back to their peoples home and learning to love the world again and find beauty and connection along the way! (i plan on having lots of nice landscapes ehehe)

here's the link! this is something im very passionate about, so i'd really appreciate people giving it a chance! im hoping to get the first scene up by the end of the year!

[cardworksartblog]

Look at this magical girl i made in a picrew adn then drew. She'd be the antihero type girl who uses Incredible Violence instead of friendship to beat the bad guys and makes a fun moral dilemma for the protagonist polycule to deal with as a conflict.

She blasts you with her umbrella attack btw. Thats how she kills you. Im also like 40% sure she's blown up a public restroom with homemade C4 before.

[skebbles]

Some water colour exploration ☆

[fillthevoidwithwordsofgold]

The Story of the Ones That Play Games with Human Pawns

This is a continuation of my brand new (another one, I know, I need to stop) WIP, titled A Warning, and the Stories of She Who Gave It. In my defense, it is only going to have 4 parts (chapters? sections? idk)

Bit one: A Warning

      Oh! Hello again. Come sit down, you can leave your cloak there. You certainly look much more adjusted than when we last met, though far more wet, and you’ve heeded my warning so far. Have you tried the drinks here yet?

     No, no, this tavern has particularly famous drinks, made with the fruits and berries the town got its name from. I try to visit every now and then for them, but it seems today’s will be prolonged until the weather blows over. I’ll get you one, do you have a favorite fruit?

     There we are, all set. I believe I owe you a story now. I’ll admit, it’s a rather long one, so the weather is in our favor, eh? The beginning is going to be a little familiar, it should remind you of how we first met.

     Yes, I’m not from this world either. To be honest, I’m starting to think no one is. My original world, however, was much different from yours.  I suppose that’s where the similarity ends then. You needed a warning of the dangers this world has, my old one had them just as this one. We weren’t afraid of them, however. And I’ll tell you why.

     All your dangers, your monsters, your creatures that trap and lure what they once were and make more of themselves, they were once as human as you and I. 

     Yes, yes, I’m very human. Only humans can do what we were taught to in my old world. See, we were taught how to bring the humanity out of the monsters. I know it sounds rather strange, and just a bit impossible, but it can be done. I will warn you now, however, that it is a very complicated thing, and one you should not try. 

     Do not try it. It will not work unless you do it right, and teaching you to do so will make my already long story quite a bit longer. I doubt there is enough rain for that.

     Back to my story. I arrived here much like you did, in a flashing swirl of something that faded into somewhere I’d neither been to nor heard of. I was just as confused, albeit without the guide and warning. I spent three days wandering before I found another human, but even then they were not all the way human, a creature had pulled them into their power. When they offered to lead me to people, I followed cautiously. When the other humans were in the same not quite state, I readied the magic burning in my chest.

     Yes, I had magic before I came here, and while I do not mind the occasional interruption, at this rate I will not be a quarter of the way through the first part of my story by nightfall, not that we could see it, and I was hoping to be about done.

     When I was lead to one with only the sliver of humanity left to a fully changed creature, I set my magic upon that sliver. It works slowly, my magic, just as I prefer it to. I enjoy the look on one’s face when they realize what I’m doing, far too late for them to try and stop it. As my magic worked, I danced around the creature. She is of the first sort I told you of, the ones that use magic to win you and your loyalty, and play games with human pawns and pretty words in their courts. She wanted more people to build her power and influence, as all of that sort do. I whispered ideas to her, of how to do it better, of how to get others like her into her influence, slowly but surely, just as I prefer to work. She busied herself with my ideas, and her growth, and watching over her strings and threads as they slowly but surely bound those that were soon to be hers, and she soon forgot that I was not one of those under her influence. 

     As I whispered and she worked, my magic worked on her, whispering of what she once was.

     The emotions came back slowly, the stronger ones first. That’s how it always goes. Soon enough she was excited when she caught another into her influence, frustrated at those under it who disobeyed, or others like her who did her wrong to help themselves, scared of the consequences of being caught before her traps were wound enough to be permanent. As time went on, she grew to re-learn dread, agitation, boredom, delight, annoyance, curiosity, amazement, and much more. 

     Her emotions and power grew, until the court became hers to rule, and she became human once more, or at least mostly so. One can be human, and feeling, but still be cold and cruel, and that is what she is. 

     Now she is Queen over her court, and plays her games not with those in it, but with the other Rulers of the other courts.

     Now she is as human as she can be after being so far changed, and uses her humanity to her advantage in her games.

     Now she is mine, in a way I was neither planning for nor expecting, for it is her heart that became mine, as mine became hers.

      Perhaps this would be a good time for a break, for I have only explained one of the creatures I know the inner workings of, but it is growing late and we humans do need sleep. There are rooms here, go ask for one at the bar there. I will resume my story in the morning. Perhaps over breakfast? There is a marvelous breakfast tart here.

     Good night.

[deathismyspiritanimal]

One of tumblr goals is to make a post that gets screenshotted and lands on instagram or some other weird place.

But my ultimate tumblr goal is, to land on a YouTube channel like @pmseymourva and just be funny and relatable to people because I ain't so like-

Now y'all know I guess.

K bye

[shortbisexual-insomniacs]

stickers for school