#scrungly shadows | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puckpocketed · 4 months ago

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who is #43?

Hello !! First off thank u for visiting. If you clicked read more by accident rip sorry it’s a lot of text. ENJOY!!! <3

1. This was the photo reference I used. I really did mean it when i said he photographs well!! I really like how scrungly he looks at times lol. v paintable

2. here’s a timelapse for your viewing pleasure in video + gif form <3

3. Process breakdown below. I am not formally trained, so don’t take any of this as professional advice!! The way i paint has been compared to channeling some evil contract with a demon also. So um . Im saying that i dont remotely think that this is efficient or correct, its just whats comfortable for me <3

3a) the dreaded lining phase. I have 2 modes of operation when it comes to painting - either i go full-dick with fancy inking/sketching + cel shading (rare, unrefined, haven’t figured out a nice workflow yet) OR i do a very very basic chicken scratch set of lines like so:

It’s less about being realistic here and more about laying down some guide lines for the chaos ahead. If i thought i could get away with it, I would start every rendered painting i do with laying down colours — but unfortchh ive tried that before and it usually ends in really weird proportions. Even with the lines i still need to make adjustments. This is something no people except me would notice but look at the above sketch; the eyes are too big and slightly too far apart, the forehead is too small and thus the hair is also not quite big enough… I have a bad habit of drawing eyes too big on faces, they’re my favourite facial feature to draw.. i barely resisted giving him big cow eyelashes (I love big cow eyelashes… all of my OC’s and most of my more stylised fan art of characters get big cow eyelashes… god…. Big cow eyelashes SAVE ME……….)

Anyway. Structure of the face + hand somewhat established. <3

3b) Underpainting!! Okay stay with me here . Ever since i figured out i dont have to paint in 03925893853 different layers, I’ve joyfully painted on 1 layer as much as possible. I dont have the brain power all the time to be managing layers so I simply dont work with that many layers. For this painting, the skin in its entirety was painted on one layer, the hair on another layer, and the effects on the last layer. There was a placeholder background off-white/grey colour for a while there, and I duplicated the line layer — one for figuring out where to lay colours, and one hidden for later so i could check back to see how accurate to the sketch/proportions were to the actual painting. 6 layers, 2 of which i painted the bulk of the piece on, 1 more at the end.

3c) here’s where I started carving out features. I think about objects in terms of volumes and light rather than lines. i love painting and sculpting because of this!! Here you see where I’ve begun to define his features — his eyelids, his bags, his nostrils. Just refining what was there before. The suggestion of facial hair before i gave it up and left it for later (his face is so naked the WHOLE time)

3d) nose bridge highlight, suggesting his eyebrows, a cheek highlight. A touch more coral red and muted yellow pull away from the grey/blue underpainting. Strategically leaving some of it peeking through.

3e) i truly start messing with the fidelity of his features here. Red lipstick <3 and some violet/blue for shadows on the right side of his face.

3f) the part where it starts looking like q.hughes to me (though, my friend said i got his vibe pretty early on which is such a compliment.. waaaaa…..) I love this part of every painting i do. I know it’s definitely not the Correct order since other parts of the entire painting are simply Not Rendered or Done, but whos gonna stop me?? :3

I love love loveeee painting faces. Adding the little shinies to his eyes + lips + upper lip + nose … you don’t know how much of a difference it makes until you do it. Also i snatched his eyebrows

3g) i really pushed the red/coral/ochre/orange here. Note the yellow highlights on his cheekbones, the forehead, and the thin thin line of pink right between where his bottom lip ends and his chin shadow starts <- very important . To ME!!!!!!! Also highlighting his waterline and adding his lashes was so so fun <3

3h) FACIAL HAIR!!! And I started rendering his hand. Some micro adjustments made to his face for proportion check.

3i) i start painting his hair in earnest and realise his forehead is too small so i make the adjustment. I really love how it falls into his eyes in this photo. <3

3j) i make some final adjustments to his eyes — a bit smaller, closer together. And i refine the outline of his jaw, push the stylisation of it just a little.

3k) Finishing details; his flyaway hairs, his moles, a bit of texture on his face, shadows cast by his hair, his little forehead cut <3

3l) i adjusted his hand here, added more texture to his skin, refined his hair a tiny bit more, and made the decision not to fuck around painting his jersey because i wanted the focus to be his face <3

3m) Canucks blue and green. Captain at 23. His form bleeds into the background. He is the franchise.

theee most fun ive had painting anything. and i finally feel... warmed up? if that makes sense. art for me is like. if i dont do it in a while it feels like nothing goes right when i come back to it. i hate that feeling, and the most difficult hurdle to clear is letting myself feel that until i get back into my Zone. after all this time i feel like im BACK !!!!!!!

i loved painting this fella. hes SO Shaped. <3

Apologies i simply do Not have the energy to write the alt text for all of these so i hope the little blurbs are okay aslkjasdklj. i gotta post and go to bed . if u made it this far, thank you for reading!!

#details and process under the cut ….!#god… it really is like . they let anybody be in their mid 20s these days??? (<- guy in his mid 20s)#quinn hughes #vancouver canucks #hockey art #puckpainting #<- abandoned wet rat of a tag. rarely used

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first-class-feral · 4 months ago

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brad dourif scrungly feature analysis: eyes

from the “Boys” dourif-hottie supercut music video:

I’d love to see an artist break this down!

For now, let me write you a novel about Brad's spectacular eyes...

The Strangeness

(Skip if you want to preserve the mystery.) BD's right eye is placed a little higher, and turned up as if tugged from the outer corner. I think it's part of that subtle something that immediately sets him apart. This unique, catlike, romantic asymmetry snatches your attention.

The glow

His striking, chameleonic blues capture light — even in B&W — which directors loooooove to exploit by lighting him obliquely:

It's a great way to crank up the eerie vibe of any scene, and I respect Star Trek for trashing that option outright with all-black contacts. (Of course, he still served an incredibly compelling outsider.)

(Edit: I put up a post just about this effect because they seriously do it all the damn time) (...because it's awesome)

Set in shadows

He has hooded eyes, deep-set and accentuated by heavy eye bags. The shadows and textures draw you in toward those luminescent irises, like picture frames that amplify each motion of his eyes.

Contrast

Sometimes he pops them wide open, creating these huge, expressive magnets...

...Or squints lopsidedly...

...Or interrogates, challenges, threatens — alert but defensive, like a prey animal on the edge of lashing out.

He’s said he chooses roles that "turn him on" (pretty clearly in an artistic sense); many of these blend menace and vulnerability, and our boy dumps emotion into every. single. line. This can manifest as an intense, wary, combative look, with eyes wide under neutral or furrowed brows:

Cry, baby

...And that's all before we mention the tears. He cries, of course, at will and liberally, and his eyes go red-rimmed and wet, highlighting them even more as he pins someone's soul to the wall with his gaze.

When he hovers right on the edge, they seem to shine in the dark.

Bared

At times, his fair eyelashes almost vanish, compounding his unusual look with a birdlike or reptilian tinge.

Obviously, the shaved brows in LOTR add to this effect.

A couple more things you'll notice here: he'll hold his eyes wide open for much longer than normal, drawing out these moments and making him seem even more alien.

And when he gets up-close in someone's face (which is often), he's constantly switching his gaze between their eyes — totally fixated, as if scanning for emotional feedback. In my opinion, it adds to that vulnerability: to the object of his attention, he must seem like a predator freezing them in place... but it's also desperate, like a prey animal trying to decipher the other person's intent, all senses tuned to pick up their slightest signal. (Gríma Wormtongue and Jack Dante especially have this pathetic air about them: grasping at sources of warmth while lashing out at the harsh, unintelligible world around them, allying themselves with uncontrollable destructive forces in an attempt to establish a place for themselves........)

TL;DR

The eyes — and how he uses them — are the standout scrungly feature, the main reason we can’t look away from this unforgettable weirdo.

The cat-eye asymmetry pulls focus;

His ice-blue irises are light traps, framed in textured shadow;

His full-bore emotional commitment ramps up the anguish and torment to an aching crescendo that's impossible to ignore.

Eventually I'll follow up on other contributing factors, but for now, I'll leave you with a couple of article snippets about The Eyes:

Imagi-Movies: Vol 1 No 2 — Winter 1993/94. Pages 11-13: "Traumatic - Brad Dourif". Link

SoHo News: November-December 1981. "Tension and mercy - Brad Dourif glowers for our sins" (an article all about his eyes! But they don't mention the asymmetry.)

[Gifs were mostly stolen from the GOAT, @exdeputysonso — with some of my own, mostly the square ones. Shout-out to @dragonsbloodsnowcone for inspiring this word vomit.]

Thanks for reading!

#brad dourif #BradDourif #whoowee that was a ride #written with the maximum possible respect and affection #possibly too much of those in fact #big tragic eyes club #in this essay i will #my bradrot

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ghost-in-the-hall · 1 month ago

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Equinox (Falk Maria Schlegel x Fem! Reader) FLUFF

Hello hello! I wanted to write something quick and fluffy just to kind of get back into the swing of writing, so who better to do that with me than my favorite scrungly guy. I will also say, now that seeing him face to face, I write Falk a little differently, so hopefully you enjoy the slight changes I've made to his character. More of a bigger posting update will be coming soon, thank you for reading!!

WARNINGS: None

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

The hallways were abuzz with an unusual rush of energy as you made your way down to the library. You set off to your usual morning tasks: reshelving books, organizing the checkout logs, and doing some light dusting. You stumbled across a group of girls excitedly looking out the windows at the front gates. They call your name when you come into view, one of them jogging over to you, taking your hand, and tugging you in their direction. “I'm surprised you're not down there waiting,” one of them giggles when she notices the confused expression passing over your features, “someone doesn't know what day it is.” She follows up in a sing-song tone.

“What do you mean I don't know what day it is? It's the twenty… first…” Your heart begins to pound in your chest as you state the date out loud.

“Mhm.” She draws out her hum, giving you a playful smirk.

“I, um… excuse me, ladies, there's something I forgot to handle.” You respond with a bashful chuckle before slipping away. “I am such an idiot!” you exclaim to yourself. You jog down the hallway. Hopefully, there weren't too many people down at the front gate. You had been waiting for them… for him to come home for weeks.

The Autumnal Equinox was always a bit hectic around The Abbey. Sabbats always tended to get everyone a little too rowdy, and this time would be no different. You heard shouts from the kitchen and orders to make sure all the chefs had enough prep for the special meal The Abbey prepares for the Siblings every holiday. The Great Hall doors were open, and last-minute decorations were meticulously placed around the room. It seems like everyone is putting in their best effort to make the celebration of the Equinox something special.

However, you couldn't have been less concerned with the party if you tried. There had been only one thought in your head about seeing him again for weeks. The members of the High Clergy had been traveling to spread the word of the church for the past couple of months, which shouldn't have affected you and your role in the library. But, it got awfully lonely while they were away. You had your friends around The Abbey, of course, and the rest of the Siblings that resided here were all kind and wonderful people, but something was still missing.

You managed to get to the gates just in time to see them heading up the long stone driveway to The Abbey’s entrance. You wiped your hands down the front of your habit, your palms growing clammy as your eyes landed on Falk, a smile on his face as he talked with Attila. His gaze turns to you, his long strides gradually slowing to a stop as his eyes meet yours. His grin softens, a fond expression settling over his features as he studies the image of you standing before him. He claps Attila on the shoulder before parting from the other man, adjusting the strap of his bag where it had twisted before starting in your direction. He stops a few steps in front of you, both of you memorizing the image of the other all over again as you both struggle to find the right words to say. You can't help but smile slightly as you study his features. You hadn't realized how much you missed getting to see his face every day until right this moment: warm golden brown eyes that captivated you yet put you entirely at ease, the subtle sharpness of his smile that never failed to make your heart race, the slight shadow of stubble that covered the lower half of his face, you missed all of it. “How are you?” He finally speaks, snapping you from your trance-like state.

“Good,” you suck in a deep breath to steady your pulse, “better now that you're home safely.” Falk breathes out a flustered chuckle at your response.

“Well, I had to make it back to my favorite Mäuschen, didn't I?” His hand comes to rest on the top of your head, gently patting your hair. Your heart pounded as you glanced up at him through your lashes. He removes his hand from your head, his fingers gently combing through your hair to push some loose strands behind your ear. His hand grazes over your skin, coming to rest on your cheek.

“Father Falk?” Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke, the words bubbling up in your throat as you struggled to tear your eyes away from his. “I, um…” The warmth of Falk’s hand leaves your cheek at the sudden shout of his name, a group of Siblings barreling out of The Abbey doors now that someone has alerted them that the High Clergy had returned home.

“You, what, Maus?” he asks in a low tone. The intimacy of how he leaned in to speak to you, to ensure you knew that you had his full attention, sent a shiver down your spine.

“I'm just really happy you're home, Father.” You tried to muster your most convincing smile, but Falk saw through whatever façade you attempted to put on. As the crowd approaches, you attempt to slip off, only for Falk to catch your hand in his.

“You can stay, you know.” He remarks, offering you a patient smile.

“I'm afraid I’d probably just get in the way,” you respond with a weak, slightly defeated chuckle. “If you find yourself with a moment to breathe, you know where to find me.”

“Will I see you tonight?” You glance at him curiously. “For the party?” He finishes.

The party had already begun to slip from your thoughts. You opened your mouth to respond, only to be drowned out by the hoard of Siblings who had finally made their way down to where you were standing. Your hand slipped out of his as you took your chance to disappear into the chaos.

You hurriedly made your way back to the library, pressing your back against the cool wood as you allowed the door to slam shut behind you. You sigh, letting your head thud against the barrier. “I missed you.” You finally allow the confession to tumble from your lips once you find yourself alone.

You slide into the chair at your desk, smiling slightly as you see your handwriting on a tented index card. You pick it up, absentmindedly twirling it between your fingers as you allow your eyes to trace along the delicate gold letters etched into the book cover that sat atop the pile of reserved texts you had set aside by request. “Excuse me.” You scream as you're startled from your thoughts, clapping a hand over your mouth as you turn to look at who had approached the desk. Falk stood before you, his shoulders shaking slightly as he struggled to contain the laughter bubbling up in his throat.

“I'm sorry, Father–”

“No, really, I'm sorry; I thought you would have heard me come in.” He chuckles, gliding forward until he’s standing right in front of you. His forearms come to rest on the desk, his crooked smile making your cheeks grow warm as he casually leans in closer to you. “Surely I'm not that scary looking, hm?” He adds with a playful smirk.

“You're not scary at all, you just surprised me, that's all…” you trail off, fidgeting with the edge of one of the book covers as you pull the stack closer to you. “I happen to think you're rather handsome.”

“Is that so?” His grin widens slightly as his gaze scans over your features. “Well, coming from someone as beautiful as you, I'm flattered.” Your heart slammed against your ribs when you finally registered his compliment. His hand was warm as he took yours, thumb slowly running over the valleys of your knuckles. He breathes out a laugh at the difference between his massive paw as it engulfed your delicate fingers. His attention turns to your face; the subtle intensity behind his eyes keeps you firmly in place. “I don't believe I got your answer before we were interrupted earlier.” His expression softens, gently squeezing your hand when he feels your fingers trembling against his palm. “Will I be seeing you tonight?” Your mouth grew dry as you struggled to form any words in response. The question was so simple, yet Falk’s tone was so incredibly intimate as he spoke to you.

“I'll be there.” You finally managed to squeak out.

He lifted your hand slightly; his breath was warm against your skin. “Hopefully, I'll be able to steal you away for a dance then.” His eyes flicker over your features before he brings your knuckles to his lips. “Until then, Schwester.” He wordlessly scoops up the books you had placed on the desk between you, giving you one final lopsided grin before hurrying from the library, leaving you dumbfounded.

You couldn't believe it when you stood in front of your mirror. You were truly no better than a teenage girl getting ready for prom. You glanced at the chaos that had ensued behind you: a mountain of dresses covered your bed, practically every pair of shoes you owned scattered the floor, various piles of tried-on and later discarded jewelry, leaving you still standing in your bathrobe as you agonized over what to wear.

You had just finished putting on your earrings when there was a sudden knock at your door. “One second!” You call in response, grumbling as you trip over your shoes on your way to the door. You freeze as your eyes land on Falk, your gaze darting to the vibrant bouquet he held before returning to his charming, lopsided grin. “Falk?” You can't help the shy smile that slowly spreads across your features. “What's this for?”

“Well, I couldn't show up empty-handed. Now, could I?” He responds vaguely, slipping the bouquet into your hands.

“Well, that all depends on why you're here, doesn't it?” He chuckles at your playful tone.

“I'm here to ask if the beautiful young woman in front of me would do me the honor of accompanying me to the Equinox celebration tonight.” He motions to the gift he had presented to you. “Hence the flowers.” You share a laugh, carefully spinning around the bouquet in your hands to admire the vibrant oranges, golds, and reds.

“You… you want to take me?” Your voice came out soft, barely above the whisper, as if you spoke any louder, you would snap yourself awake from a dream.

“If you'll have me.” He responds with a slight nervousness in his tone. He holds out his hand for you to take, a hopefulness in his eyes as they meet yours.

“I think it might be the other way around.” You reply coyly, your cheeks growing warm as your fingers ghost over his palm.

“Please,” you can't help but giggle as he takes your hand and guides you through a spin. He smiles as he drinks in the sight of you. You're absolutely beautiful,” your breath hitches in your throat as he gently trails his knuckle across your jaw. Walking in there with you on my arm feels almost too good to be true.”

“Let me just grab my shoes, " you said as you began to turn. Feel free to come in, but I'll warn you it's a bit of a mess…” he glanced at you curiously. “I couldn't figure out what to wear.” You both exchanged a laugh.

“Well, I think you look incredible, Mäuschen.” You mumble out a flustered ‘thank you,’ Falk sticking close to your side as you head into your dorm. You set the bouquet in some water, deeply inhaling its sweet scent. “I'm glad you like them.”

“Thank you for bringing them for me; that was very sweet.” He shrugs nonchalantly in response, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Like I said… I couldn't just show up empty-handed.” He takes a few steps forward, allowing him to resume his usual position towering over you. “I honestly wish I had prepared a bit more.” He chuckles.

“Getting to spend the night with you is all I could ever ask for.” You admit softly, your eyes trailing to the floor.

“Well then, my dearest Maus,” he takes your hand, carefully bringing your knuckles to his lips, “why don't you grab your shoes so we can enjoy our evening?” Your heart pounded; you were sure Falk could hear it. You reluctantly separated from him, picking up the pair of heels you had decided on. Falk’s hand was warm as it came to rest on the small of your back. “May I?” He asks, taking hold of your shoes. He drops to one knee, taking your hand in his for a moment to bring it to his shoulder. He carefully moves your dress out of the way to delicately lift your foot. He easily slips your shoe on before resting or on his thigh, fastening the strap around your ankle and asking you if everything felt alright before repeating the process.

“Thank you.” You smile down at him. Electricity danced across your skin, where he lazily ran his thumb across your ankle. He takes your hands in his as he stands.

“Ready?” You nod in response, your grin widening as you watch him slowly trace over the contours of your face. “Beautiful.” He mumbles before breathing out a bashful chuckle. He tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow, “Let’s get going.”

You found yourself leaning into Falk’s side as you walked, hiding your face against his shoulder as you laughed at another one of his dumb jokes. You could hear the party raging up the hallway as glasses clinked together and the excited laughter and shouts of the entire Abbey broke apart the otherwise tranquil autumn evening. When you entered the room, it felt like every pair of eyes had landed on you. Falk squeezes your hand before confidently stepping forward. “Falk!” The crowd's attention quickly diverted as Attila greeted the two of you. He claps Falk on the shoulder, greeting each other jovially in German before turning his attention to you, “Sorry about all the staring.” He chuckles.

“I thought I had prepared myself for that on the walk over here.” You respond with a laugh of your own.

“Just go have fun, don’t worry about them.” He leans closer to you to whisper, “Falk certainly isn’t.” He jokes. You glance at him over your shoulder, your heart leaping into your throat as you meet with his kind, adoring gaze. Attila straightens up, “I’ll see you both later.” He dismissed himself abruptly, surely trying to see as many people as possible before the night was over.

You turn to face him as Falk softly says your name. “Would you like to dance?” He offers you his hand, waiting patiently for you to accept his invitation. As you set your hand in his, a smile finds its way to your lips.

“I'd love to.” He tugs you in the direction of the dance floor. You can't help but laugh as he sweeps you into his arms, your heart fluttering as your hands rest against his chest. He takes your hand in his, the other settling against the curve of your waist.

“You look nervous, Mäuschen.” You share a playful grin.

“Can you blame me?” You reply softly.

“If anything, I should be the one that's nervous.” Your body instinctively begins to sway with his as he leads you around the floor.

“And why's that?” He carefully leads you through a spin before pulling you back to him.

“I showed up to a party accompanied by the most beautiful woman in The Abbey.” His arm fully encircles your waist, tipping you back towards the floor. “I just hope I don't manage to make myself look like a fool in front of you.”

Your cheeks grow warm at his compliment, a soft laugh slipping past your lips. “Trust me, you don't have anything to worry about.” Your breath catches in your throat as he shoots you another charming, lopsided grin. His gaze drops to your lips, lingering there momentarily before meeting your eyes again.

You danced with him for hours. The pair of you never seemed to tire as Falk effortlessly spun you around the room. Your nerves quickly slipped from your mind, the jealous stares of other Siblings being entirely lost to the warmth that burned in your chest every time Falk made you laugh. Eventually, you noticed the once-raging crowd beginning to thin as the night started to wind to a close. “Why don't we get out of here?” Your pulse races as Falk whispers the simple question in your ear. You nod, laughing as he takes your hand and hurriedly leads you through the crowd.

Falk sighs loudly as he pushes through the door into the chilly autumn evening. Goosebumps immediately erupt across your bare skin, the oppressive heat of the party inside being sucked away from you in an instant. He turns to you with a soft smile, shrugging out of his jacket to draw it across your shoulders. He cups your cheek, allowing his thumb to stroke over your skin as he studies you languidly. “What?” You ask with a bashful smile.

“You're beautiful, Mäuschen.” He responds with unhesitating tenderness. “I'm sorry if you catch me staring. I just can't help myself sometimes.” He pulls you to him, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You wandered aimlessly around The Abbey’s grounds, just enjoying being in each other’s company. Neither of you wanted your time together to end, finding any excuse you could to lengthen the conversation. You paused at the distant rumble of thunder, jumping slightly when a raindrop splatters across your cheek. Falk grabs your hand, waiting for you to gather up your dress. You groan as you remember you're wearing heels. Falk chuckles, stepping closer to you to scoop you up in his arms. You let out a delighted squeal, your arms latching around his neck as he jogs off with you in his arms. It didn't take long for both of you to be completely soaked through with rain. He sets you down outside the greenhouse, the first unlockable door to shelter you came across. “I'm sorry about your dress.” He apologizes as he feels around the top of the door frame for the key.

“It'll dry.” You reassure him.

“I figured we could dry off here for a little while, wait for the rain to stop.” He explains as he finally slips the key into the lock. “I thought going for a walk would have been romantic.” He chuckles.

“Falk?” His attention turns to you as you softly say his name. “Would you like to dance with me?”

He chuckles as he nods. “I would love to, Maus.” He steps closer to you, “Here, let me help with your shoes. I don't need you getting stuck.” He meticulously helps you out of your heels, struggling to contain the grin that spreads across his face as he watches you step down to your normal height. You can't help but laugh as Falk gives you a low bow, offering you his hand. You gingerly lift your dress as you curtsy in response. Raindrops trailed down your skin; Falk swore you almost seemed to glow under the moonlight. He hums into the silence of the night, both of you moving in perfect synchronicity as you waltz through the wet grass. Falk bows once more as your dance finishes, bringing your knuckles to his lips before lifting you from the ground easily. The inside of the greenhouse was warm, immediately enveloping your whole body in a blanket of humidity as you hurried inside out of the rain. He carefully takes his sleeve, wiping away whatever water he could with his soaked shirt.

“Come here; I know where they keep some towels.” Falk smiles as you take his hand. You shake the handle of the supply closet, giving it a harsh twist before it finally gives way. It wasn't much, a few hand towels tucked beside a rickety old sink every used to wash up after a day of harvesting. You timidly raise your hand, carefully pressing the towel to his cheek to wipe away the ceremonial paint that now ran in dark gray streaks down his neck. Falk freezes under your delicate touch, his hands settling on the curve of your waist as he allows you to clean him up. As you slowly uncover his handsome features, a soft smile finds its way to your face. Falk was struggling to keep his eyes off of you; everything about you was just so perfect. The subtle curve of your lips as you cared for him just about made his heart stop.

“You'll catch a cold if you're stuck in that dress much longer.” He tuts, moving one of his hands to your shoulder. “Your skin feels like ice, Maus.”

“I'll be alright-”

“There you two are! What the hell do you think you're doing out here in this storm?” It was Roel. The two of you startled apart; you yelped as you tripped on the long skirt of your gown. Falk’s hand shot out in an instant, steadying you, and he pulled you into his chest.

“How did you know we were out here?” Falk asks in a confused tone.

“I was doing a grounds check. Trust me, this wouldn't be the first time I've found someone hooking up out here, and I'm sure it won't be the last.” He chuckles. “But, from the fact you two look like a couple of wet dogs, I'm assuming this wasn't part of your plan.” You could tell from his teasing tone that Father Roel wouldn't let either of you live this down any time soon. The three of you rush back inside The Abbey, Roel giving Falk very clear instructions to ensure you get home safely before parting ways.

“Let's get you into something dry, hm?” He offers you his arm, and you gladly accept it as you lean into his side. Your hand slides into his, giving it a gentle squeeze to try and ease some of the tension that rolled off of him in waves. He seems to snap himself from his thoughts as he turns to glance at you. “I'm sorry I made such a mess of our date, " he suddenly admits with a chuckle.

“I don't think you made a mess of anything. Falk, I'm having a wonderful time with you tonight.” Your steps slowly come to a stop.

“After I got you caught in the rain and probably ruined your nice dress.” He responds incredulously.

“It's just a dress.” You rebuttal. You turn to face him, and despite how hard he tried to hide it you could see the worry laced into his features. Your hand slowly rises from your side, hesitating for a moment before it gently comes to rest against his cheek. Falk’s warm, golden brown eyes find yours. “I wouldn't change anything about how tonight has gone.” Your confession poured past your lips before you could stop it. “While you were away, I can't even begin to describe how much I missed you. Now, you're home. You asked me to one of The Abbey’s most important parties, and I got to spend the entire night wrapped up in your arms… Falk Maria Schlegel, I love being around you. Getting caught in some rain isn't going to change that. There isn't anywhere I would rather have spent my night than by your side.” He barely gave you enough time to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. The air was instantly knocked from your lungs, your hands fisting into Falk’s shirt in order to keep yourself upright and to pull him as close to you as you could manage. His strong arms wrap around your waist, lifting you from the floor, leaving your toes barely skimming across the stone tile. His shoulders heave as he struggles to catch his breath, his eyes searching yours as you finally separate for air. You slide your hands over his shoulders, realizing he was making no move to set you down. Slowly, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips.

“You missed me, hm?” Your cheeks immediately begin to burn at the statement.

“Shut up.” You manage to respond through a flustered giggle. You let out a pleased hum as he pressed his lips to yours in a few short, sweet kisses. “Take me home.” You command.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk toying at the corners of his lips. “Yes, ma'am.” He sets you down for a moment to readjust his hold on you, his arm sliding behind your knees as he pulls you back into his chest. Swaying you with every step, Falk carried you back to his quarters so you could enjoy the rest of your evening alone.

Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @belnovacaine @obsessed-and-possessed @crexpy34 @eentheekipekke @iamsarahsaysso

#falk powerwolf #powerwolf band #powerwolf #falk maria schlegel powerwolf #falk maria schlegel x reader #powerwolf falk #falk x reader #falk maria schlegel

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quoththemaiden · 11 months ago

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You know I love me some tasty Season 0 Yami!

👁‼️

#yugioh #yami yugi #season 0 #(i think this might actually have been manga-only; i forget)#(anyway)#i love how funky the lettering is #with the exclamation point being outright SIDEWAYS #and how the millennium eye shines off yami's forehead from how you drew its lines #the FRICKIN' ANKH on his arm bringing that bit of gold to his shadowed (as in IN the shadows or MADE of shadows??) body #mmm his hair is so scrungly too #fantastic use of colors as always; i always love your use of hot pink #extraordinarily eye-catching as always!!

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katy-l-wood · 2 years ago

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Pre-order time! "Poison in the Blood" Releasing December 6th

Do you like family sagas, questionable morals, and unique vampires? Well, this one is for you! Includes a big brother keeping many secrets, a little sister who thrives on chaos, a scrungly mountain woman, an actor methodically destroying his stepfather's things, a cowboy who wishes he just stayed home and took a nap, and a scheming primary school teacher.

Poison in the Blood

Glory is Poison: Book 1

Adult Fantasy Adventure

~100,000 Words

#Adventure, #Colorado, #Vampires, #Post-Post-Apocalyptic, #Family Saga, #Siblings, #Asexual Characters, #Queer Characters, #Train Robberies, #Actors

Over a century ago the Plagues began and vampires emerged from the shadows of myth with an offered solution: trust them, give them control, and they’d help put a stop to the chaos. But even now, so long after, there are still those who don’t agree with the new system. --- Dustin Lockwood would give anything to find his little sister ten years after she was kidnapped while their family fled a dangerous coven that wanted them dead, or worse. Shae Lockwood, living it up in London as a rare human actress, would give anything not to be found. Their family has been in hiding for over ten years from the coven where the Lockwood parents used to be famous and beloved actors. If the world finds out where they are, the fallout for the family could be catastrophic. But whose secrets and lies are the ones putting everyone in danger?

All the buy links can be found here.

(It's also likely available other places, I just haven't grabbed the link yet, so check with your favorite online shop!)

#Book #Book Release #Book Pre-order #Writing #Writeblr #Writblr #Book Rec #Signal Boost

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ghuleh-recs · 1 year ago

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hi! i'm a new Ghost fan and i would love to get some fic recs since i don't know where to start. 😊 i'm pretty much open to anything but something with lots of feelings (hurt/comfort), Papa IV x someone, and around 15,000 words would be great. thank you in advance 🧡

hellooo! welcome to our little satanic corner of tumblr!! i'm so sorry this took me so long—i had a tough time finding fics that matched your criteria. i hope it's okay that i focused on "feelings" more so than hurt/comfort specifically. definitely give these writers a follow if you haven't already. (i also wasn't sure what you meant by "x someone" so i threw in a mix of x reader, x ghoul, and x oc.) feel free to dm me or send another ask if i didn't get it right this time! i can also point you towards a bunch of fantastic writers ♡

recs under the cut!

x ghouls

paper armor - @ratballet - copia x dewdrop

“Horns,” Aether says quickly, like the words in his mouth are searing him. “It’s his horns.” He spares a glance at Dewdrop’s door, like he’s afraid he might be pressed up against it, listening. “He’s shedding them." Dewdrop is shedding his horns. Copia tries to help.

Steadfast Love, Not Sacrifice - @st-danger - copia x aether x dewdrop

It’s a bit like a shark smelling blood, he thinks as they follow close behind. It's natural they were going to want to taste it, too. “Well,” Copia says, “some of us need our beauty sleep.” He hesitates, and then proceeds to look nervously between the two of them and continue, “I meant me, of course. You two are already very, erm. I should go to bed.” It’s such a flimsy excuse. The elevator reaches the third floor before any of them speak again. Aether clears his throat. “You don’t want to though.” Copia looks very called out, but can’t do much more than stare, before realizing the two ghouls beside him are waiting for an actual answer of some kind. The elevator beeps as it passes the fourth floor. “No,” Copia says slowly, and Aether’s stomach does a little swoop. “I don’t.” Or, Sometimes the reward is worth the risk. *No Man Taketh From is another favorite of mine with Papa IV and Aether.

x reader

A Message From the Bulletin Board - @writingjourney - copia x reader

The ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad. Or: You and Copia are secretly crushing on each other. You both have to reach maximum desperation before you make a move. * if you're in it for the long haul PLEASE read I Knew Nothing But Shadows THE hurt/comfort fic of all time. you won't regret it.

Confessional - @da-rulah - copia x reader

As a sister of sin, it was your duty to confess at least once a month, to have your sins praised by a higher up member of the clergy. But you only ever chose Thursday nights, when you knew he was on duty. And tonight, you were working up the courage to confess your darkest sin - the dreams you had been having… *check out Rituale Septem while you're at it. lotsss of feelings but with Papa III, instead.

x OC

sweeter red - @anamelessfool - copia x oc

Your kiss so sweet, your sweat so sour…sometimes I’m thinking that I love you... but I know it’s only lust. Copia is a scrungly little nerd and this totally happened to him. There's something about Cardinal Marian. Maybe it's the way she infuriates him with her laissez-faire attitude, or ingnites his soul with envy of her free spirit. Rage and love, at a certain point they merge together into an overwhelming burning in the heart and mind: passion.

you found the ache in my argument (series) - @the-lisechen - copia x oc

In which two reasonable people from different religious disciplines have a conversation. (A study in faith, hope, and love.)

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, leave kudos and/or comments!

#my fic recs #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa iv x aether x dew #papa iv x dew #papa iv x reader #papa iv x oc #papa emeritus iv fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fic rec #fic rec!!#ghost band fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #ghost fic #spicy tag

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 25 days ago

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Day 1: Infection

(Disclaimer: the character in this story does not belong to me. MadPat/AftonPat/Phone Guy is the property of Random Encounters.)

(The end of this story was actually inspired by some fanart courtesy of the amazing @insane4fandoms ! I would link it here…if it wasn’t already hidden in plain sight~ Hope you’ve been feeling better, friendo! Also, thanks for remembering one of my special fanmade scrunglies yet again, lol)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, body horror, degloving/skin-flaying, mentions of murder/death, implied dismemberment/self-mutilation, nightmares, paranoia, weapons. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

(Note: the events of this story take place right after the end of FNAF The Musical: Shadows of Agony. Which means, of course, that it also takes place a while after a certain collab I've been working on lately...)

Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7

___

Cold.

He isn’t sure how he can hear his teeth chattering over the drumbeat of his heart.

The air is so, so, so damn cold.

He doesn’t understand—he’s still wearing his precious work-suit. Even after all these years, the tan-colored fabric has remained soft, somehow always seeming to keep him insulated despite how thin is it.

And yet, it’s like there isn’t any cotton barrier between him and the air at all. The chill is actively seeping right through his skin to settle in his bones.

The corridors are so dark.

Although he’s never felt remorse for his actions (and knows by instinct that he never will), he still curses every single time he complained about the obnoxious humbuzz emitted by the light panels installed up above.

There’s nothing above him anymore. Not even an actual ceiling. Just a still, shadowy void. Even if he was able to climb up the walls, he knew he wouldn’t dare. That darkness is palpable. If he were to get close enough, something would reach up from the other side and drag him into it.

The only reason he can still see anything is a faint glow that flickers just up ahead. A plethora of shadows practically lick at the walls right around the corner…

Fire.

There’s fire somewhere nearby. Warm dancing, beautiful fire.

Then again, “nearby” apparently isn’t all that accurate.

Because he’s been able to see that tantalizing light all this time. He’s been able to smell the smoke, to hear the crackling and popping all this time.

And yet, whenever the fire seems to be at its closest, whenever he finally manages to round that corner…

He doesn’t find a burning pit, doesn’t find any sort of kindling.

He just finds. Another. GODDAMN. HALLWAY THAT STRETCHES ON FOR MILES WITH MORE FIRELIGHT TO TAUNT HIM AT THE VERY END.

The black-and-white checkerboard floor tiles have all been swallowed up by a shroud of scrap metal.

Bits and pieces of animatronic endoskeletons, their once silvery material now covered in rust.

Every few feet or so, warped arms and legs and eyes and sets of teeth peek out of the ruin, framed by twisted wires that still spark now and then.

The robotic nature of it all truly makes this place feel like a hellish combination of junkyard and slaughterhouse.

A screeching, grinding cacophony is fueled with each and every footfall. How he can still hear his chattering teeth above even that, he has no idea.

It’s all made worse by the fact that the corridors are so narrow.

He can’t move an inch without his elbows knocking against the painted plaster. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to feel the constant aches surging through his tendons if he was walking, but he just can’t afford to be slow right now.

The air keeps getting colder and colder—to the point that he starts to see his own breath. Small, steamy clouds pour out of his mouth, disappearing less than a second later.

He’s been sprinting for hours now.

Why the hell isn’t he sweating?

Why aren’t his lungs burning if they’re already more-or-less threatening to burst any second now?

Why does his blood seem to carry both the consistency and temperature of a fucking slushie?!

He skids to an abrupt halt, just barely keeping his balance as he pushes what’s left of his hands—the stumps wrapped up in layers of bloodied bandage—against the walls.

…A new sound has joined the cacophony both in-and-outside his head.

A splashing, churning sound.

And it’s echoing from somewhere above him.

He glances up just in time to see ripples stretching out on the surface of that inky void. As though something inside is stirring in its sleep, struggling to wake.

He throws himself down, burrowing through the metallic waste until he feels enough of it slide into place over his back.

He is hidden. Not safe—he’ll never, NEVER be safe after all the things he’s done—but hidden.

He shifts his neck, not wanting to move any more than that. He needs to keep watching the surface, but too much movement will only ensure that they catch him sooner.

Above him, something heavy touches down on top of the wreckage. The rusty pieces are all jostled in a rhythmic pattern.

He lays there, muscles tense, feeling the blood rush through his head, waiting for what feels like hours.

But nothing starts digging toward him. Nothing ever pushes his cover away.

Finally, FINALLY, the new noise starts to fade. The jagged, uneven footfalls above move past him, getting quieter and quieter every inch of the way.

Once they disappear completely, he flounders, moving in a way that’s reminiscent of both climbing and swimming. He surges up, determined to get back on his feet and keep running, keep looking for that precious fire.

…But his head never breaks the surface.

As his arms sweep the layers of junk away, he only finds more waiting to take its place.

He feels icy claws drip down his spine—he’d only buried deep enough to cover himself! That was it! How the hell are there suddenly miles between him and those hallways?!

In his haste, a section of his bandages gets caught on the jagged edge of a robotic hand—the way its lifeless fingers are curled resemble the branches of a long-dead tree.

He snarls, pausing his movement to yank his arm back. But as he does, at the very last second…the bandage tears, allowing the sharp rust to scrape the already marred flesh of his wrist.

Fear cuts through anger like a hot knife through butter.

He howls in pain, trying again and again to free his arm. But the more he moves, the more his now ruined bandage gets tangled up in the rust. The more exposed his stump becomes.

All at once, the newly bare skin starts to hiss. Wisps of discolored vapor begin drifting out of the wound—only a few at first, thin and short. But in a matter of seconds, larger clouds start flooding out, alongside a stream of dark red ooze.

He can only watch and scream as his skin keeps burning, keeps blistering, keeps bubbling. Flesh and muscle peel away in ribbons, sloughing off of him until the rough, splintered remains of his wrist-bones are revealed.

And it doesn’t stop there.

Like shed scales being pulled away from a snake’s coils, the sizzling rot proceeds further up his forearm. His skin continues to twist and melt away. Now he can see the glistening shapes of his radius and ulna; they’re being unveiled slowly, little-by-little, inch-by-inch.

Even as he thrashes and flails and shrieks, he keeps aiming for the surface.

There has to be a surface! There has to be relatively fresh air somewhere outside all the rust! The world hasn’t just caved in on itself all because he wanted to hide—!

He feels more searing pain start to concentrate on his shoulder.

And then his neck…

…his jaw…

…his EYE-SOCKET…

___

What could only be described as an intense Charlie Horse sensation wracked the space between Mad’s eyes as they snapped open.

That sensation then slithered down to his throat, forcing him to cough and gasp as he writhed against the old mattress.

He had to roll onto his side, had to use his elbow to prop himself up. It took a couple long, agonizing minutes before his breathing became steady enough.

Heart still hammering painfully against his sternum, he stared down at his wrist-stumps.

The bandage-layers were still splattered with crimson stains, but they were whole. No rips or tears to be found.

The jagged mess of his skin in that area was still covered. The bleeding had stopped a long time ago.

No organic steam, no hissing, no peeling…

With a heavy sigh (and much more effort than he’d care to admit), Mad manuvered himself to sit up, his legs now sliding over the edge, letting his boots thump against the old hardwood floor.

His vision was quick to adjust to the darkness; this building had lost all electricity about a month ago, but that didn’t bother him too much. Besides, the moonlight filtering through that cracked window in the corner certainly helped.

He eyes kept wandering back to his stumps as he glanced about the decaying room. He snarled at the thick spiderwebs that clung to the ceiling—what were the odd of one of those eight-legged creatures scuttling in-between the gauze and spinning a little egg-sac somewhere in his flesh..?

Mad shook his head feverishly, shudders pushing their way along his ribcage. Bright red glinted out of the corner of his eye: that wonderful, deadly, genius new toy he’d put together just the other night was sitting on the nightstand. Right where he’d left it.

Mad stood, and as his shadow fell over it, the weapon's material seemed to glint even more. Almost like it was waiting for his next move.

Taking a deep breath, he cradled the flame-chain (yes, that was what he was calling it. Patent-pending, bitches) and hefted it onto his back, the straps fitting around his shoulders perfectly.

Though this dead motel—the recently-condemned place that just so happened to be only a few blocked away from Freddy Fazbear’s—had made for good shelter earlier, he couldn’t afford to stay any longer. For all he knew, a construction crew would be en-route to tear this place down and start building something else on its bones first thing tomorrow morning.

He needed a new hideout. Somewhere else to stay before he could make a plan to get back to the pizzeria.

Licking his lips, Mad threw the room’s door open and stormed down the rotting corridor.

Adrenaline started to fester in his lungs as he realized that he already had somewhere else to go.

He had someone to stay with.

He had a favor to cash in…

@sammys-magical-au @lexusinsannus @im-a-weird0 @b-is-in-the-closet @that-bat

#my writing #my stories #goretober 2024 #a week of goretober 2024 #madpat #aftonpat #matpat #egopats #matthew patrick #fnaf the musical #fnaf shadows of agony #random encounters

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