#blast from the past babeyyyyy

[toodrunktofindaurl]

patreon poll winners: emma x regina

[anactualfrog]

Weird Science

[sining-ni-kad]

SHE RETURNS BABEYYYYY

SepticEmerald was the first online alias I’ve ever used; this one originates all the way back to 2016 when I first got Twitter. It’s been ages since I’ve drawn her! Her design went through many iterations from 2016 to 2018, but this is one from 2016 that I remember the most fondly.

The username itself is pretty self-explanatory; the “Septic” part comes from Jacksepticeye and the “Emerald” bit is because I wanted to have another green thing in my name. This one was definitely a blast from the past to make on all fronts.

Speaking of blast to the past, I uploaded a speedpaint of this on my YouTube channel! I haven’t uploaded for years, so it feels really good and nostalgic to be posting again. I’m on summer break now, so I have all the time in the world for stuff like this.

Speedpaint: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YNAnnk6Efz4

[cry-away-the-monsters]

Angel nods, offering another smile. Walking over toward him, she gently hugs him before pulling back. “W-we’ll definitely work on g-getting those parts once I-I’m up and awake. I-I’ll probably be making s-some calls about it, s-s-so we can get e-everything squared away a-as soon as possible. W-we can work on g-getting you clean t-too,” she says. “Goodnight, Springtrap,” she adds, them she goes upstairs. Marty seems a little conflicted about going up, though he decides to stay downstairs for now, going back over toward the couch and jumping up on it, curling up next to Springtrap. He usually goes up to curl up with Angel...but Springtrap is awake, which definitely meant pets.

And pets are very important.

~

It wasn’t even six in the morning, maybe only five, when Angel woke up from a nightmare. It was no different from the usual...being hunted down in her childhood home’s room by the nightmarish creations her mind had been imagining for years. Since she had had only about four hours before she would wake up, she knew it was going to end badly...and, sure enough, it did.

The last thing she remembered from her nightmare was being caught by Fredbear...the one she always saw in her peripherals. The one that always clawed relentlessly at her sides when she panicked. The one that always scared her the most. It was just before his massive, sharp silver teeth bit into her skull as the dull, blocky ones had back in ‘83...

That sight alone sent her screaming in her dreams...only to translate to reality. She woke up with a high, somewhat hoarse shriek of panic, bolting upright in bed and gripping the covers of her bed tightly, tightly enough to turn her knuckles white. Her heart beating a mile a minute, her entire body quaking violently, tears streaming down her face, having soaked her pillow while she slept...it was exactly how it was every night. Some nights it was worse than others...but this was typical. Sometimes she screamed, sometimes she cried, sometimes both, sometimes she just woke up, curled in a ball and shaking...but the screaming and crying was a default.

Quickly forcing herself to stop screaming, she gasps for air, her body hunching over while she catches the breath she’d lost from screaming. She’d put most of her incredibly long hair in a braid to prevent herself from getting tangled up in it...she usually did if she forgot to. Her bangs were left untouched though, now covering most of her tearstained face, a tank top failing to hide part of a massive, deep scar across her collarbone, one she’d earned years back from Foxy, her arms exposed and covered with bandages, starting at both wrists and extending all the way up to her shoulders.

Finally catching her breath, she lifts her head, taking in one huge gasp and closing her eyes, hoping to calm herself down with breathing. Briefly forgetting that Springtrap’s there, she doesn’t initially start panic about someone hearing her, other than Marty. Speaking of Marty, the second she starts screaming, he immediately bolts up the stairs and sits in front of her bedroom door, though he doesn’t make a sound. He usually waits there for a minute or two so she can calm down before he starts meowing and scratching at the door, so he does that, just as he’s always done.

Curling up into a ball and hugging her knees tightly, Angel presses her forehead against her covered knees (as best she can, anyway), shaking and quietly whimpering. She just then remembers Springtrap still being there, lifting her head.

Fuck.

The 5’3” brunette woman looks up at the oddly familiar-looking, rather grotesque, decayed version of the bunny mascot she once saw dancing around on a stage as a child, looking at him with a very confused look on her soft, rounded face, as though trying to figure out what the hell to say. “S-so uhm. Are you a-actually Spring Bonnie?” she stammers, a very soft voice coos out, a rather thick but pretty English accent quite noticeable. [[ cry-away-the-monsters ]]

“…Technically. I was once Spring Bonnie, I always wore this suit. It was mine…now I’m trapped in it forever. I call myself Springtrap now.” He responded, standing much taller than the woman, seeing as he was 7 foot. “It’s not so bad, I get to live forever and be something else…” He noticed how she had the same accent at him, it was not too often he met anyone around from where he was born. “You shouldn’t be here though, it’s dangerous…”

@cry-away-the-monsters