ahoradameunnombre

[ahoradameunnombre]

Happy New Year!

This chapter is more about Thistle and Lavender.

[ahoradameunnombre]

¡¡¡Feliz Navidad!!!

Este es un pequeño experimento con los chicos de suramerica.

[ahoradameunnombre]

Next chapter!!!!!

[ahoradameunnombre]

Un dibujito del segundo capítulo.

Quería mucho probar suerte con algo más basado en las luces. No sé si la magia de Lavender se vería así pero fué la vibe que me dió. Estoy realmente feliz de poder dibujar a Fatal de nuevo.

Behind those blue and red eyes

[ahoradameunnombre]

¡¡¡Feliz día de las velitas!!!

[ahoradameunnombre]

Decidí hacer dibujitos para mi fic (Behind those blue and red eyes) y así practicar mejor diferentes escenarios.

Siempre es divertido dibujar a Lavender, es un diseño super bonito y te hace buscar referencias de la naturaleza. Creo que lo que más me gusta es lo tranquilos que siempre quedan los dibujos con él.

Lavender pertenece a @naturetale-official

[ahoradameunnombre]

Simplemente sentía que con la anterior versión de este dibujo no lograba decir lo que quería.

Cada cosa representa momentos de la historia de Colombia que de alguna manera nunca hemos podido sanar. Creo que es lo normal con países como los latinoaméricanos pero no me gusta la idea de simplemente actuar como si no nos afectaran simplemente porque no están pasando ahora mismo. Mis abuelos, mis papás, mis tíos, mis hermanas y mis amigos han sufrido por culpa de estas cosas. Nunca podemos recurrir al olvido.

[ahoradameunnombre]

Fatal breaks down.

[ahoradameunnombre]

This time I wanted to give the kids some kind of mystery to solve. My inspiration was obviously "Dr Jekill and Mr. Hide" (I love that story) just three people simultaneously. I wanted some sort of memory loss (I've been there and is scary as hell). Just the feeling of being in somewhere who-knows-where and being so tired. Not so sure of the story though. Maybe I'll fix it later.

TEEN TITANS horror: The flips

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She looks in the mirror. The image is like an abyss: it stares back. She has grown used to it. The makeup slowly turns her face into a blank canvas. She hates to be there alone. Fuck being a girl, she wants Joe and Jack right there. But it would be weird. They cannot afford another scandal.

Fixed in the eyeliner she cannot help but notice something moving out of sight. Her eye is twitching in discomfort. She looks back but there are only shadows. She isn’t afraid of them. For those like her: misplaced, abused, forgotten: shadows are home. But now something is hiding in the dressing room.

Or not. 

Back to the face. Why does the best makeup take so long to finish? Black shadow and black lipstick. Almost there. The hair is missing. She thought many times about dying her hair black too, but something stopped. What is it? It wasn’t her parents, they were shit, nor the memories of the past, they were also shit. There is something about the way she looks in the mirror. It was the sense of self.

People have all to say about them. Like they knew, this is family. The only family she has ever known. She has to keep going. Show everyone that she is worth it. But every day she feels worse. Now is her stomach. Something moves down there. She has to throw up.

When she curled on herself, she felt something worse. In the back of her neck, like a parasite, something pulls from beneath her skin. 

“You have no home.”

“I have you”

“You are alone”

The voice, which sounds just like hers laughs at her. The pain grows in her head like the worst headache that can exist. From within, the point just behind her eyeballs. It is like her brain is being pulled by invisible strings. No kind of breathing technique can fix this. It feels like she is dying. Her skin too starts migrating into her back. She feels tight. Is this what those plastic surgeries feel like? Her body contorts into weird poses. She is moving backward. The other one is gaining control. No matter how hard she tries her consciousness slips away from her. Everything goes dark.

Wake up in a random place in the city. It's raining, she is… wet. Jack reaches out with his hand.

“It happened again,” Says Joe.

He is right. This can’t keep happening. All of them feel sick, appearing in the worst place possible. They take photos of the redness of their necks. They are infected. 

[ahoradameunnombre]

TEEN TITANS horror: The flips

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She looks in the mirror. The image is like an abyss: it stares back. She has grown used to it. The makeup slowly turns her face into a blank canvas. She hates to be there alone. Fuck being a girl, she wants Joe and Jack right there. But it would be weird. They cannot afford another scandal.

Fixed in the eyeliner she cannot help but notice something moving out of sight. Her eye is twitching in discomfort. She looks back but there are only shadows. She isn’t afraid of them. For those like her: misplaced, abused, forgotten: shadows are home. But now something is hiding in the dressing room.

Or not. 

Back to the face. Why does the best makeup take so long to finish? Black shadow and black lipstick. Almost there. The hair is missing. She thought many times about dying her hair black too, but something stopped. What is it? It wasn’t her parents, they were shit, nor the memories of the past, they were also shit. There is something about the way she looks in the mirror. It was the sense of self.

People have all to say about them. Like they knew, this is family. The only family she has ever known. She has to keep going. Show everyone that she is worth it. But every day she feels worse. Now is her stomach. Something moves down there. She has to throw up.

When she curled on herself, she felt something worse. In the back of her neck, like a parasite, something pulls from beneath her skin. 

“You have no home.”

“I have you”

“You are alone”

The voice, which sounds just like hers laughs at her. The pain grows in her head like the worst headache that can exist. From within, the point just behind her eyeballs. It is like her brain is being pulled by invisible strings. No kind of breathing technique can fix this. It feels like she is dying. Her skin too starts migrating into her back. She feels tight. Is this what those plastic surgeries feel like? Her body contorts into weird poses. She is moving backward. The other one is gaining control. No matter how hard she tries her consciousness slips away from her. Everything goes dark.

Wake up in a random place in the city. It's raining, she is… wet. Jack reaches out with his hand.

“It happened again,” Says Joe.

He is right. This can’t keep happening. All of them feel sick, appearing in the worst place possible. They take photos of the redness of their necks. They are infected. 

[ahoradameunnombre]

For this chapter, I thought to make a colony of body parts that live in the sewers like ants of some sort and prey on lonely people to grow in number. Since I'm choosing horror I think that this incarnation of the Teen Titans will be more mystery-focused than action. So the starting point will be missing people. The story would develop in the sewers, in dark and closed places. They would have to rely on hearing the parts, and could not use lights because the eyes would see them. I think it would give Garth a place to shine because of his strength and capacity to live in dark places.

In the original story, the cause is a chemical, but I don't think that holds up in modern times so I'm thinking that maybe it can be a curse (??). I want something that leaves them out of their comfort zones, you can't run, you can't punch, you can't see.

Maybe at the end, I'd let them catch them but can't break the curse. And it could become a recurrent villain.....

TEEN TITANS horror: SEPARATED MAN

Walking back home on a rainy day, a young woman hears her own footsteps on the ground. She stops. A pounding sound pierce the air from one sewer just below her feet. She looks. A hundred eyes look back at her. She jumps but when she looks back there’s nothing there. She walks faster, it must be her imagination. She keeps walking but some steps follow her. She walks faster, it must be her imagination. She feels watched. She looks behind but finds no one. A tapping sound comes from above. She looks up but there’s nothing there. 

It gets darker, she walks faster. A laugh pierced the air from a close alley. She walks faster. The footsteps follow her close by, but there are more, two people, maybe three. But when she looks back there’s no one, even if the sound persists. The tapping sounds multiply by the second and as more feet join the army behind her a chorus of laughing voices starts the harmony. She looks around and sees nothing but a pair of eyes shining from one alley. Someone is watching her. She starts to run as fast as she can. 

The sound and the eyes grow in number. A hand takes her by the ankle. She falls. Something rolls in front of her. One brown eyeball looks at her from the ground. From the sewers, hands start to crawl making a tapping sound. She is surrounded. The hands crawl over her body. She is paralyzed. Feet jumps up once and again like the drums in a ritual in perfect circles around her. Big red mouths laugh from the walls. 

The hands hold her limbs tightly. She can’t move. One hand crawls to the mouth’s covered wall and puts a finger between its teeth. The mouth bites. One hand opens her mouth and the bleeding hand puts the wounded finger in her mouth. Once the blood touches her tongue the hands close her mouth and pinches her nose. She has to swallow.

The hands leave her body. The eyeballs roll in circles around her. The feet jump faster. The hands clap with each other and the mouths start singing. She breathes deeply. She is scared. She screams. Her hands ache. Her fingers move out of her control. Her whole body contorts out of control and it hurts, it hurts badly. She screams.

Her hands pull themselves out of her wrist and “walk” towards her ankles. They take the feet and pull till the feet are jumping around. She cannot scream anymore. Her mouth sings alongside the mouths on the wall. The hands go for the ears and throw them to the ground. The pain numbs her feelings. The hands grab her nose and take it with a piece of bone. She cannot see anymore. Her eyeballs roll erratically in her eye sockets. Soon both of them roll out of place. 

She is on the ground. Everything hurts. She hugs herself in a ball. She feels nauseous. Her singing lips drop to the concrete. The teeth fall one by one making a sound when facing the hard floor. From the hole in between her jaws, the tongue comes out like a snake. She has thrown up her own mouth that now sings its song without her.

Then she can just reach with her handless limbs towards a heart that beats too fast. Her eyeless face cries. The hands crawl back at the peek of a high note. Her limbs are held against the ground. It is like a ritual. The hands touch her chest pierce her skin and go deeper and deeper. The heart rises above her. The hands take it. Nor even her heart belongs to her body.

Everything returns to silence. The eyes (her eyes too) return to the sewers first as they are sensitive, then the mouths (her own mouth too), then the hands and the feet (herself bleeding). One hand tough stay. The hand shakes in all directions and starts to grow. One foot, then another, till it is the size of a horse. The hand takes the body and drags it to one alley to never be seen again.

[ahoradameunnombre]

TEEN TITANS horror: SEPARATED MAN

Previous / List / Next

Walking back home on a rainy day, a young woman hears her own footsteps on the ground. She stops. A pounding sound pierce the air from one sewer just below her feet. She looks. A hundred eyes look back at her. She jumps but when she looks back there’s nothing there. She walks faster, it must be her imagination. She keeps walking but some steps follow her. She walks faster, it must be her imagination. She feels watched. She looks behind but finds no one. A tapping sound comes from above. She looks up but there’s nothing there. 

It gets darker, she walks faster. A laugh pierced the air from a close alley. She walks faster. The footsteps follow her close by, but there are more, two people, maybe three. But when she looks back there’s no one, even if the sound persists. The tapping sounds multiply by the second and as more feet join the army behind her a chorus of laughing voices starts the harmony. She looks around and sees nothing but a pair of eyes shining from one alley. Someone is watching her. She starts to run as fast as she can. 

The sound and the eyes grow in number. A hand takes her by the ankle. She falls. Something rolls in front of her. One brown eyeball looks at her from the ground. From the sewers, hands start to crawl making a tapping sound. She is surrounded. The hands crawl over her body. She is paralyzed. Feet jumps up once and again like the drums in a ritual in perfect circles around her. Big red mouths laugh from the walls. 

The hands hold her limbs tightly. She can’t move. One hand crawls to the mouth’s covered wall and puts a finger between its teeth. The mouth bites. One hand opens her mouth and the bleeding hand puts the wounded finger in her mouth. Once the blood touches her tongue the hands close her mouth and pinches her nose. She has to swallow.

The hands leave her body. The eyeballs roll in circles around her. The feet jump faster. The hands clap with each other and the mouths start singing. She breathes deeply. She is scared. She screams. Her hands ache. Her fingers move out of her control. Her whole body contorts out of control and it hurts, it hurts badly. She screams.

Her hands pull themselves out of her wrist and “walk” towards her ankles. They take the feet and pull till the feet are jumping around. She cannot scream anymore. Her mouth sings alongside the mouths on the wall. The hands go for the ears and throw them to the ground. The pain numbs her feelings. The hands grab her nose and take it with a piece of bone. She cannot see anymore. Her eyeballs roll erratically in her eye sockets. Soon both of them roll out of place. 

She is on the ground. Everything hurts. She hugs herself in a ball. She feels nauseous. Her singing lips drop to the concrete. The teeth fall one by one making a sound when facing the hard floor. From the hole in between her jaws, the tongue comes out like a snake. She has thrown up her own mouth that now sings its song without her.

Then she can just reach with her handless limbs towards a heart that beats too fast. Her eyeless face cries. The hands crawl back at the peek of a high note. Her limbs are held against the ground. It is like a ritual. The hands touch her chest pierce her skin and go deeper and deeper. The heart rises above her. The hands take it. Nor even her heart belongs to her body.

Everything returns to silence. The eyes (her eyes too) return to the sewers first as they are sensitive, then the mouths (her own mouth too), then the hands and the feet (herself bleeding). One hand tough stay. The hand shakes in all directions and starts to grow. One foot, then another, till it is the size of a horse. The hand takes the body and drags it to one alley to never be seen again.

[ahoradameunnombre]

OG Teen Titans' Villains as Horror?

So... I'm coming up with something. I'm reading some of the original adventures of the fab five, and they gave me that horror type of vibe. Maybe I'll write something more elaborate when I have all the villains. But for now, I'm making quick drawings and short scenarios.

(I'm not touching Mr. Twister, he has so much lore)

Sorry for my English. Hope I'm not too rusty in my writing skills.

2. Separated Man

3. The flips

[ahoradameunnombre]

La historia se repite. No hay descanso. No hay tregua. La única realidad es el dolor. Y después del dolor la amnesia. Nunca pasa nada. La neutralidad es el color de las risas forsadas.

[ahoradameunnombre]

Este bebé me calma tanto cuando estoy estrezada.

No sé si lo que escribí en inglés tiene algún sentido (no revisé) pero me gusta como suena.

Lavender merece todo el amor del mundo.

[ahoradameunnombre]

Este bebé me calma tanto cuando estoy estrezada.

No sé si lo que escribí en inglés tiene algún sentido (no revisé) pero me gusta como suena.

Lavender merece todo el amor del mundo.

[ahoradameunnombre]

Tarde muy tarde. Este dibujo me recordó que tan lejos estoy de dominar lo digital. Eso y que @the-last-panqueque pone la barra muy alta. Ya no me dió para participar por el premio, pero tenía que terminarlo al menos.