#but I couldn't make it work

[sp0o0kylights]

S4 Starts with the Demobats Attacking the School / Rejected Stobin Time Travel AU Bit

Eddie's hunched over the table, fingers held up in wicked claws. His hair hangs down as he tilts his head, voice pitched to the maniacal tone of the villain he's finally unleashed on his players. 

This is it. The big reveal, the prelude to the boss fight. His players have worked hard to get here, and they stare raptly, caught up in the rising horror of betrayal and terror that Eddie's been weaving around them.

This whole campaign took months to reach this point. His glee cannot be contained and so he channels it into his villain instead; cackling madly before throwing himself upwards, one hand covering his face but with his fingers splayed to showcase one wide eye. 

"Now you see your fatal flaw!" Eddie crows. "Pick up your weapons and--"

He slams one hand down on the table. 

"--fight --"

He slams his other hand down. 

"--for--"

A third bang, far louder than Eddie's own echoes through the room. 

Hellfire as a whole jumps --Dustin screaming and Jeff shouting--as Steve fucking Harrington bursts through the drama room's door. 

"Why the hell don't you have your walkies!?" He thunders as he flies in, face furious. 

Fury bolts through Eddie like lightning, so fast it leaves him temporarily light headed. 

"Steve!" Dustin yelps at the same time Mike pissily shouts his name. Both leap to their feet, as Harrington, chest heaving, slams the door behind himself. 

"We have a code red!" Harrington spits, eyes focused on the younger Hellfire members. He fumbles with the door for a moment, long enough for Eddie to realize he’s trying to lock it, before the ex-jock strides into the room. 

It's not until Steve gets closer that Eddie registers the bat with nails in it. There's a dark, tacky liquid leaking down the sides, little bits of something rancid clinging to some of the nails. 

A metallic scent that screams 'wrong wrong wrong!' and oh God. 

It's blood.

Real blood, not the fake stuff Eddie once bought for his Dracula costume. 

"The Party--" Dustin hisses, head flying comically between Steve and the rest of the table (but most noticeably, down at Eddie’s end, where the older Hellfire members reside.) 

"I suggest you read them in or whatever Nance calls it, Henderson, because they're involved now." Harrington says, deadly serious. 

Sinclair’s face scrunches up in confusion. "What do you--" 

Something screeches outside. The noise raises every hair on Eddie's neck, and temporarily stuns the room into silence.

An echoing scream answers, just as inhuman as the first. 

Harrington winces. "Give em the cliffnotes version man, there's a bunch of bats outside."

"Bat bats or--demobats?"

"What do you think, Mike?" 

"Fuck." Sinclair hisses under his breath. 

"Anyone besides me have any weapons?" Harrington asks and he sounds like he's not hopeful for a yes but is asking anyway.

"Yes Steve, we all brought guns to school. Mines in my locker!" Mike snips, and Harrington levels him with that annoyed look mothers everywhere somehow seem to know. 

"I've got my slingshot." Lucas chimes in, patting his backpack. "I uh, I don't go anywhere without it anymore." 

Harrington nods, once. His faze ticks up, sweeping across the room to the older members. 

"Alright. Anyone else?" 

"A knife." Jeff admits after a long pause, his own eyes trained on Harrington's nail bat.

Grant shakes his head, and Gareth, usually the loudest of them, is silent. 

A static crackle makes everyone jump, before a tinny voice comes through. "Steve, are you there? This is Nancy." 

"Hey Nance. We have an Upside Down situation at the school."

A pause then; "it's not just the school." 

"Shit." Dustin hisses. Then adds; "Scale of one to ten, how many bats would you say are outside?” 

“Too many.” Harrington answers, running his free hand through his hair. It’s a soothing motion, Eddie has watched Steve enough to know that, but this time something’s different. 

Less “shit I flunked my chemistry final” and more frantic, “we’re losing the baseball game and also Hargrove’s being weirdly aggressive again.”

Not that Eddie witnessed such events, just that he had….heard about them.

Sure.

He’ll go with that. 

xXx

Wheeler Jr yelps, sliding as a demobat swoops down and beats at him with its wings. Teeth snap close to his head, missing his ear by inches. 

He twirls, arms waving madly, until Harrington grabs him, keeping Mike's head down with one hand and jamming his nailbat toward the creature with the other. 

The two of them manage to make it into Eddie's van, half falling half jumping, Gareth and Grant slamming the door behind them as demobats dive at them. 

"Gun it!" Gareth calls and Eddie does so, the lurch sending Henderson and Jeff tumbling to the floor. 

Eddie watches in the mirror as Mike, the most antagonist of the freshman when it comes to Harrington, clings to the ex-jocks shirt for a moment. 

Steve's hand has left the back of his shirt, though now Eddie can see his grip has changed to more of a tender hold on the kid. Something familiar and comforting. 

"I got you." Steve says quietly and it's only because Eddie's got his attention split between him and the road that he catches it, and the way Mike presses his forehead against Steve's shoulder for a moment before finally sitting up. 

Which just confirms what Eddie already knew--for all his bluster and guff, Mike was one of Harrington's too. 

xxx

--This is where It turned into the  “failed time stobin time travel AU- but I like this part and you need the above for it to make sense so TWO IN ONE--

xxx

Speed running the beginning is starting to become the easiest part, if only because Steve finally knows exactly what to say. 

"They're not a part of the party." He mimics Dustin's voice before pointing a finger at him. "We have exactly sixteen minutes before the damn demobats attack you can fill them in in Eddie's van." 

The very same Eddie who looks positively aghast. "You actually believe this?"

"Oh absolutely." Dustin says, scooping his nerd crap into his backpack. "Trust me, Steve's not creative enough to come up with something like this on his own."

"Hey." Steve says in warning. 

"Also he only gets bitchy like this when something’s gone really wrong." Dustin ads with a look that might have been apologetic--if one squinted and looked at his face sideways. 

Lucas, Steve's new favorite, slides slowly next to him. "You sure you're okay?" He asks quietly and Steve pats him on the shoulder for being the only one to care. 

“Not at all.” He answers because fuck, he really, really, isn’t. “In the meantime, I need you all to listen very carefully.” 

Mike already has his mouth open, patented bitchy look on his face and nope, no, Steve is not letting him derail this conversation.

He let that happen by accident once and Steve’s learned his lesson since. 

Pointing at Mike, Steve starts firing instructions. “Do not, under any circumstance, try to fight the bats. They can and have lifted you right off your feet and I will not be jumping for you again.” 

Steve’s finger ticked right, to Lucas. “Luc, I know you have your slingshot and a handful of shit to fling in it. You need to sprint to Eddie’s van, then get set up to start shooting so the rest of us have cover. Got it?”

Lucas, Steve was pleased to see, had already dropped into ‘shit’s fucked’ mode. He nods, his own nerdy gear long packed away. He digs through his backpack now, looking no doubt for the slingshot. 

Steve was baking him a damn cake when all this was over. 

“Gareth.” He continues, pointing at the next guy down the line, watching as he jumps out of his skin (and then looks mad about it, as if it was Steve’s fault he’d flinched.) “You’re weirdly good at counting the bats, so I’m gonna ask you to keep doing that man. As well as keep an eye out for anything ground level, we got surprised by a demodog last time.” 

“Shit, really?” Mike groans, throwing his hands over his eyes in frustration. 

He was ignored. 

Steve skips over Eddie entirely, knowing all too well how much of a trap addressing him could be. “Grant, you’re best on the radio. Once we are securely in the van I need you to call for Nancy and give her an update on what’s happening. 

Grant at least, comes onboard immediately, nodding his head and standing. 

He got an absolute look of betrayal from Eddie and Gareth for it, but hey that was yet another thing to be addressed later. 

Here, Steve slings his own backpack down and off his shoulders, taking the first thing he has in it, out. “Jeff,” He calls, before holding up the box he’d pulled out. “This is a medkit. You know how to use it, so you get it.” 

Steve doesn’t toss the box to him this time, instead putting the kit on the table and sliding it over. 

Hesitantly, Jeff takes it, eyes darting between Steve and Eddie. 

“And Dustin--” Steve says with an air of finality, yanking the second item he’s been looking for out of his backpack, “take off that damn Weird Al abomination and put this jacket on. For some reason the bats keep locking onto it.” 

“They want my shirt?” Dustin asks, but does as told, seeming far too delighted at having been given Steve’s old swim team jacket. 

“Uh.” Eddie starts, rising to a hunch over the table, head partially tilted. 

Steve was pretty sure he did that because he thought it was intimidating (or at least, perhaps was a bad habit because he did it way more often then he didn’t, but that was a thought for Not In The Beginning of The Mess Steve.) 

“We have five minutes left before they attack.” Steve says, right over the second (and far more aggressive) “Uh.” 

“The van isn’t locked, which is just so safe considering all the drugs in it, Munson.” He can’t help himself, throws the pissiest, most disapproving look he has in his arsenal at a now gaping Eddie.

“No matter who gets to it first, one but Eddie or myself drive it, understand?” 

“Oh so now you’re fine with Eddie’s driving!?” Dustin doesn’t stomp his feet but Steve has known him for a while now. 

The foot stomping behavior wasn’t one he grew out of until just last year. 

“Considering what we’re about to face yes, absolutely I am.” Steve counters rapidly. “Eddie drives like a demon and that’s exactly what we need right now.” 

And oh. He’s going to have to say things like this more, because the shocked look that overtook Munson’s face is delightful.

“I’m taking the rear, because I have the bat.” He holds his weapon, watches as the older members of Hellfire finally seem to register what it is. “Everyone got the plan down?” 

“Harrington.” Eddie finally starts, voice positively frigid in fury, and Steve is prepared to mouth what is no doubt the line Eddie’s about to say (much like Dustin, he too rarely deviates lines in the beginning) “What kind of game do you--”

Right on cue, something inhuman screams outside. 

The bats are here. 

“Bicker later, Munson.” Steve says, locking eyes with Eddie. “Goal for now is to survive.” 

xXx

The run to Eddie’s van consistently remains to be one of the worst parts of the entire day (minus the other various parts where someone inevitably bites it, thus resetting the entire damn time loop.) 

The initial plan had gone smoothly. Lucas reaches the van first, then uses it as a shield while he provides cover with his slingshot. 

The little group of Jeff-Dustin-Grant and Eddie all manage to reach it at about the same time, with Steve able to pull the bats off them with a couple of well timed whacks of the nailbat. 

This is where everything goes to shit. 

Once again, Mike tries to take the spot of “first to die” by swinging his fist at a low flying bat. The tail of the thing immediately catches his wrist, using the momentum of the movement to swing its teeth towards the freshmen’s face. 

Steve reverses direction, and knows immediately he won’t be there in time to prevent an injury.

Curses hard, and winds up to swing, right as Gareth snarls out; “Hell no!”

He’s closer to Mike, and despite already having one bat swooping madly at his head, manages to grab the one attacking Wheeler right as Mike trips over his own feet and falls backwards. 

A stream of yells and ‘fuck you!’’s follow as Steve bends to yank Mike up, then carries on as wings beat frantically around Gareth’s head. 

The other bat dives, latching onto his hip right as Steve manages to grab the one Gareth’s holding. Takes it from him as Gareth screams, trying desperately to rip the demobat that’s gotten its teeth into him, off. 

Practice makes perfect, and perfect in this case, is slamming the fucking demobat onto the concrete hard enough to stun it before slamming it to bits with two hard strikes of the nailbat. 

Steve isn’t sure how long it takes him to do it, but between Gareth’s screaming and the shrieks of more incoming bats, he knows he doesn’t have much time. 

He’s not losing someone. Not here, right at the start. 

Not when he already knows how to play out this part. 

Gareth manages to rip the creature off himself, and Steve takes it from there, snatching it out of the younger man’s hands and repeating the fling-and-smash move he killed its brethren with. 

Does it fast enough that he’s back at Gareth’s side before the guy starts to collapse downward, tears streaming down his face.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay.” Steve tells him, pulling him close and forcing Gareth to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Put hard pressure on it man, hard, then we’re gonna run for it.”

“Can’t--fuck---” Gareth pants between hard breaths. Blood’s soaked soaking into his jeans, and a glance at it shows it’s a bad bite. 

“You can.” Steve tells him, already pulling them both forward. 

It doesn’t go well. 

Gareth almost goes down twice, leg buckling, and Steve grits his teeth. Knows neither of them are going to make it at this rate. 

“Gary!” Someone screams. He can’t quite tell if it’s Jeff or Eddie, but either way, Mike and Dustin have leapt out of the car, flinging rocks and whatever else they can find into the air. 

“Careful!” Steve yells as one nearly belts him, but at least it causes enough of a distraction that he manages to toss the bat ahead of himself, wincing at the sound it makes as it hits the ground. 

It’s close to Dustin though, who thankfully, takes his cue and snatches it up. 

“Stay!” 

It’s a command, and Steve says it like a command. The last thing he needs is for Henderson to go charging into a hoard of demobats, especially not after Steve’s witnessed Eddie dying to them on at least five separate time loops. 

If not here, then later. 

He can’t think about that now though, not when Gareth’s hissing in pain, fingers clutching onto his shirt like a lifeline. 

(He is, he realizes, Gareth’s lifeline. The younger man won’t make it unless Steve gets them to the van. 

The bats would take him as their sacrifice and if there is one thing Steve was sworn to stop, it’s people sacrificing themselves--or others.) 

“Take a breath.” Steve instructs, before bodily swinging Gareth in front of him.

Ignores the yelped cry he makes, and stoops down to get a good hold around his knees. 

Grunts as Gareth, having figured out what’s happening, circles his other hand around Steve’s neck as he lifts the smaller man up into a bridal carry. 

Ignores the choked sobs that escape Gareth as he does it. The fucking bat bites hurt and what they’re doing right now is no doubt jostling the shit out of the wound. 

He’d be crying too if it were him, not that anyone can pick him up like this. 

(Deliberately forgets to recall the two times he’s died precisely because of that. 

The knowledge that if he’s injured, the amount of people who can drag him to safety solo is numbering close to zero isn’t a helpful one right now.

Neither is any other thought beyond pure focus on getting Gareth into the van.) 

From there it’s a matter of running and not falling on his fucking face--or on the guy currently bleeding on him. 

They make it though, a fact Steve is very grateful for. 

Hands reach out, all of them pulling Gareth in while Steve hustles the rest, not slowing down until he slams the van door shut and yells for Eddie to gun it. 

“Jeff, medkit!” he says, but Jeff, bless him, is already on it. 

Grant’s speaking into the walkie he’d been given, Nancy’s tinny voice a soothing balm on Steve’s nerves as he, Dustin and Jeff get Gareth laid out in the van best they can. 

“Where am I going, Harrington?” Eddie calls from the front, having floored the van the second the doors had slammed shut. 

“He’ll be okay.” Steve soothed quietly, one hand going to squeeze Mike’s shoulder, the other looping around Lucas. 

If there’s one thing he swears he will be, through every loop, it’s supportive of the damn kids.

They deserve to know someone is in their corner, even if they don’t always believe him. 

[shieldfoss]

Oh thank God

I thought that post was a certifiable banger but it got zero notes for a whole hour which is a long time for a banger to start let me tell you what

[ambivalence-and-torpor]

A cute lil something for @goldenguillotines because it's Valentines and I love you so much, bro!

[galaghiel]

Both Jack and Maddie stared at him, speechless. Silence blanketed the lab, everything but Danny’s strangled crying, his hand pressed over the muzzle as if to hide it. No- to hold it still, to still the dozen wicked barbs that were digging into his tongue, probably ripping it with each sob.

a little sketch of @liketolaugh-writes amazing one-shot fanfic that you can read here

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

None of our hands are clean

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[uhcasual]

All illustrations for The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: Russian Edition Exclusives, Volume 5

Finally got my hands on the russian истари/Istari publication volume 5 for Mo Dao Zu Shi, so here are high resolution scans of the art exclusive to this particular edition. The art here portrays events that occur in the post-storyline extras.

Full resolution available for download here (tumblr compresses images a little)

Illustration Artist: Marina Privalova (Baoshan Karo)

[Vol. 1] - [Vol. 2] - [Vol. 3] - [Vol. 4] - [Vol. 5] (part 1)

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[mimimar]

finally completed my comic based on the song ivy by taylor swift!✿ please zoom in to read the text and see the details~

✿.✿.✿

you can get the digital zine pdf here! it includes extras like character profiles, costume design, more art of willow and ivy, zine-exclusive sketches and an illustrated guide to the symbolism of all the flowers in this comic.

you can also get prints of individual pages here!

✿.✿.✿

[bg3screenshotdump]

more dreadlocs and curly hairstyles

is now available on my Nexus page !

[nibeul]

you've grown, hitoshi

[id: It's a drawing Aizawa is teaching Shinsou how to use the binding cloth. In this version, Shinsou is older and wields the cloth correctly, mimicking Aizawa's pose which is one hand extended forward with the end of the cloth held between the thumb and pointer while the other pulls it taut by their head with one leg forward. They are both depicted with tan skin, Aizawa's being more warm-toned, and eyebags. Aizawa is depicted as his post-war appearance with his eyepatch and hair up, bangs partially covering the right half of his face. He is wearing his hero uniform of a black jumpsuit and brown belt. Shinsou has Madonna and Monroe piercings and he is wearing his hero uniform as well which consists of a short-sleeved black shirt, fishnet-like undershirt and sleeves, grey shoulder pads, purple elbow pads, and knuckle guard gloves. /end id]

[id: it's a pencil illustration done by Horikoshi of Aizawa teaching Shinsou how to use the binding cloth. Aizawa is wearing his hero uniform while Shinsou is wearing the UA P.E. uniform. Instead of correctly copying Aizawa's movement, Shinsou has smacked himself in the face with part of the binding cloth. /end id]

[egophiliac]

HEY guess who's being completely normal about episode 7 :)

anyway it sure ain't me, so I made myself a baby Malleus! I used the single-headed version of Choly Knight's hydra pattern (link will be in replies ↓↓↓) as a base, and just messed with some of the pieces to make him more Mall-y. including sewing all those little claw pieces, then pinning them on and realizing I actually liked him better without them...oh well. to heck with accuracy, I want stubby little dragon legs!

unfortunately, he doesn't photograph very well, especially his forehead scales (they're there! I promise!) (they're made of glitter HTV so they are actually SPARKLY in real life, yet apparently they come out completely invisible in photos, woe). but he is super cuddly and soft so I'm happy with him! just as in canon, he is a product of LOVE. :>

[crispycreambacon]

Jesus came back and he brought trans people with him. Rejoyce.

[sjonni33]

hurt (click for better quality)

ko-fi☕️ shop🎣 redbubble🪲

[cozylittleartblog]

worst way to start my new year, thanks. i have a lot of things to say about these companies but i'm tired and just keeping it focused to the pin side of things for this one. do not ever buy pins from these companies, literally ALL of them are stolen from small artists like me. if you want to buy enamel pins, check out etsy, and artist's personal websites and shops! (though even Etsy has some bootleg pins that ship straight from china, so tread carefully…)

Every pin I've designed is, thus far, EXCLUSIVE to my etsy. if you find it anywhere else, it's been ripped off! and once these stupid bootlegs pop up, it's basically a never ending game of whack-a-mole trying to get them all taken down...

[yeyinde]

Father John Price has been acting strange lately.

It started as little things most wouldn't notice—an odd slur to his words, far rougher than what you were used to hearing. A sway to his gait when he walked as if he was unfamiliar with the layout to the monastery. Gaps in his memory when pried for pieces of information that he should have known better than anyone else within the walls of the old building. Little slips. Missteps.

Nothing to worry about.

Not at first, anyway.

Not until it bleeds out, grows. Turns into touches. A searing, angry gaze drilling into your head whenever you look away from him. Ire lashing over each word he growls out in the alcoves he corners you inside, the guise of polite conversation falling to pieces when he slips his foot between yours, prying your thighs apart to stand between them. Towering over you as he rasps out commands for you to tell him about how you spent the evening prior on your knees—

Praying, you whisper feverishly, feeling the deep indents of the rosary beads imbedded into your fingers.

But that never seems to matter much to him. Not when the prayer is always an afterthought, and he makes noises like a wounded animal when you breathe out how long you stayed like that, and how—unable to resist temptation after gripping the rosary for long—you had to slide your cold fingers under your robes, numb, shaking hands seeking the blistering heat between your thighs.

("not close enough to tempt the devil," you mutter, shamefaced, heart lurching when the noise he makes in the back of the throat sounds like a misfiring gun. "But—" he drops his head to the wall, heaving. Eyes burning into your temple as you stare at the crooked tilt of his collar, unable to meet his gaze. Scared of what you might find. "But close enough that I had to—to pray again—")

And as the distant, unflappable mask of a seemingly incorruptible man begins to crack, breaking apart to unveil a yawning chasm, you find yourself trapped in confessional box with him after dark, quickly realising that the man you devoted your life to has fallen into that crater.

And something else has taken his place.

[winchestergifs]

💙Married life for new dads(tiel) can be exhausting and oh so rewarding 💚