Hii I Just Discovered Your Work And I Absolutely Love It

hii I just discovered your work and I absolutely love it <3

i was wondering if you could do creeps with a s/o that likes picking at their skin as a nervous/bad habit

Ty <3 I also struggle with dermatillomania and I found this very comforting to write

Thank you so much for requesting!!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Creeps with an s/o who picks their hands...

Jeff the Killer

Yeah, so does he

It's mostly around his face, on his gums and at his scabs

The boy has such horrible teeth because of this </3

When he sees you do it though, he'll cringe and gently take away your hands from your skin

"Ewwww that's so nasty I don't want your skin flakes on my bed bro"

He means it lovingly I swear

Whenever he catches you picking at it, he tries to stop you

It's a bad habit of his he wished he never picked up so he's gonna do everything in his power to make sure you also don't fall too deep down the rabbit hole

Sometimes he'll let you though

Like the little pieces of dry skin you get around your fingers that stick up slightly

You just have to get those, it's basically law!

Other than that, expect him to slap your hand away from wherever you're picking at

Sometimes he'll wrap your hands up in bandages while you're sleeping

Or duct tape mittens onto your hands

Hard to pick when you don't got fingers

And quite frankly, it just makes his skin crawl knowing that all that skin you pick off has to go somewhere

And he doesn't want it to be anywhere near him

If he can't get you to stop by hitting your hand away, he'll try other means of distracting you

Kissing up your neck and eventually finding your lips, hoping to make you focus on him instead

He might take your hand and put it on his head as well

It's a win-win, really he gets his head rubbed and you aren't picking!

Ticci Toby

Despite having worn gloves for most of his time as a worker of Slenderman's, picking at his hands are still a bad habit of his

And so he's almost always got something around his hands so he won't be tempted

Once he notices you also have that bad habit, he tries to help in ways that helped him

He'll give you a pair of gloves to wear, He'll try making noises to try and get you to stop (kind of like shushing a dog)

And sometimes he'll tell you some silly stories from his past

Like how his mom used to dip his hands in vinegar to stop him from chewing on them

Or paint the tips of his fingers in black nail polish

She even got him special gloves that only covered the tips of his fingers to try and get him to stop

Needless to say, these methods didn't really work

But he has fun looking back on the memories

And in turn, you tell him any stories you may have

Sometimes he'll kiss your scars or wounds you have from picking your skin

He loves you and he wants you to know that

You even got one of those little white boards for each other

"Days gone without picking" it says

You've promised each other that when you reach a certain number of days you'll buy each other gifts or snacks

You've made a competition out of it at this point

Killer Brothers

Here my favorite duo!

I will only say that I love to make this drawing, although later I did not know how to paint it xd

Au info: In my AU they don’t get along very well, despite being brothers. Since they always fight over stupid things or who is the best proxy.

Edit: OMG thanks so much for all the love in this draw!!! :,,D LOS AMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

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rakkoferno

2 years ago

From Where the Land Meets the Sea - Prologue

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: There's some body horror in here.]

[AN: Here's the prologue to the book version of my silly quiz series I made on quotev. Check that out if you want. I've always wanted to make a full book version, and I hope to do that,,, well, now. So, here you go. 1523 words <;3 ]

Full Index

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Reblogs are appreciated!

Your mouth felt as if cotton had made its home inside it as you opened your eyes to the ceiling. They feel dry, much too dry. Pretty little colors danced behind your eyelids as you swiped the back of your hand across them to dust the sleep away. Red, purples, greens, yellows and even tinges of blues filled your vision for but a fraction of a moment before you opened your eyes once more to the world around you. As you smacked your lips, your hand reached around haphazardly for the bottle of water you kept on the nightstand. Under your palm as you gripped the plastic bottle, the water felt too warm, much like the temperature of your room.

You unscrewed the top and slowly sat up to really get a look at your bedroom. You knew that you wouldn’t be away forever, but you’d never really spend that much time away from home before. You took a quick sip, pleased at how the liquid cooled your tongue and wet your mouth full of cotton, then placed it back down on the nightstand. Moonlight danced through the open window of your bedroom. It was bright with the slightest hue of blue and illuminated everything that you needed to see. Your room had grown up alongside you, interests shifting from one thing to another with ghosts of the things you loved lining the shelves - some tucked away in the closet, under the bed and in the backs of drawers you had no intent of exploring or letting see the light of day.

Your body felt as if it was covered in sweat, a blanket in itself. With a small scowl, you threw the blankets off your lower half and sprawled out much like a starfish. You gazed upwards and began to count the small plastic stars that lined your ceiling. They used to be much greener. Now, they held slight marbling from sun bleaching like polished jade, pale, ethereal. Some had fallen down throughout the years. You can tell by the spots they’d left, and how you filled them with planets instead. Mercury. Venus. Earth. Mars. Jupiter. Saturn. Uranus. Neptune. Pluto too, even if Pluto wasn’t considered a planet anymore. You could recall putting these up with your family.

‘It’s only midnight?’ You mentally whispered to yourself as you moved your eyes sluggishly from the plastic stars to the glowing green numbers of your clock. It certainly didn’t feel like it. The night seemed to wane almost as if it was timeless. Would the morning sun ever meet your gaze? You closed your eyes softly and took in a slow, deep breath. Your thoughts unfurled from the corners of your mind and ran wild in your head. Spatially, you were aware of the way your room had been packed up semi-neatly into brown boxes varying in size, many of them plastered with your last name. You sighed. What an odd world you’d be thrusted into in less than 24 hours.

Letting your mind wander, you thought about the things that university would bring to you that you could not get when staying at home. There were many things to be excited about! Your major, for one. Clubs, meeting new people, a certain amount of freedom and getting a brief taste of adulthood while still being ultimately comfortable. You hadn’t been able to speak to your roommate yet. Deep down inside, you knew that they would be lovely. Your intuition seldom ever lied. As you pondered what the oncoming days would entail, you let a small bout of anxiety gnaw away at your thoughts. It had been an unwelcome resident since you began applying for universities. Would you be up to the task that was growing up?

You threw your forearm over your tired eyes and softly groaned. Gods, you didn’t want to think about that now. You’ve wanted to go to university since you first stepped into high school, but now that you lay on the eve of leaving and spreading your wings, you found yourself stuttering in thought once more. It was more than daunting to leave the comfort of a home you’ve always known.

You exhaled deeply and let your eyes gaze longingly around your room once more. You can smell the rolls of tape. The cardboard boxes. This isn’t the last night you’ll ever have in this house, but it will be the last before a long interlude. Through your doubts and restlessness, your body willed itself back to a dazed state and allowed sleep to blanket your tired form. ‘So much for staying up,’ mumbled your inner voice before succumbing. Your breath was slow and peaceful. Crickets on the brink of autumn played gracefully accompanied by the gentle breeze through the trees.

Your dreams have always been interesting for as long as you began writing little notes about them as a child. This one? The dream your head had conjured up was something warm and familiar. You could see your house like a watercolor painting, gentle and soft. It sung of your presence. Your mother’s voice rang through the halls, sugary sweet and soft like honey as she chided your father for one thing or another. You could feel your body move forward before you rested upon your couch. Next to you was the man your mother had been poking fun at. A jovial grin was on his lips as his mouth moved to shoot back teases his wife’s way, though the words did not match with the movements of his lips.

Their voices were some of your most treasured sounds in the world. Their laughter and the love they showered you in was all you needed to feel to know you were home.

The dream would have remained peaceful if the visages of your loved ones had stayed theirs. Your mother had rounded the corner about to take her seat next to you when you felt your father’s hand on your shoulder. His eyes had glazed over paired with something of a blank expression, a soft smile that felt more than menacing as he stared straight through you. The hairs on the back of your neck raised as he continued staring, his closed lipped smile growing bigger without showing teeth. You felt your mother’s hand on your other shoulder and whipped your head around to see the same expression on her face. Her eyes were wide, much too wide.

Rendered frozen, as one often is in dreams quickly turned nightmares, you felt your heart seize. Your mother’s mouth had begun to open; her jaw was wide, large like a snake’s. Your breathing quickened. Her mouth grew wider, lips curled into a painful smile as tears welled in her eyes and streaked in fat drops that rolled down her stretched cheeks. You watched in horror as your sleeping body began to jolt, begging for respite from the unnerving scene. You tried in vain to turn your eyes away, but were forced to watch as a mass of curling, inky black tendrils slithered forth from her throat, the sound of flesh ripping up from her esophagus making your stomach churn.

The sound of static filled your ears as you finally were granted permission to look away, only to be met with your father’s still smiling face. His eyes were wide as well, but only the sclera were visible. He’d rolled his eyes upwards, so far upwards that if he moved them back any further he could risk snapping his optic nerve. The thought of his optic nerves wound up around his eyeballs like a hair stuck to a sticky lollipop that’d fallen on the floor caused your sleeping body to lurch, spine bending unnaturally off of the bed.

You felt those inky black tendrils fall along your body, wriggling along you as if they were trying to pull you towards your mother’s gaping maw. You could hear her crying as they pulled against you. Your father’s hands shot out and grabbed at your forearms, pulling hard against you as if he was fighting with your mother against the tendrils that seared into your skin. His lips parted. The static grew louder. Through the fuzzy noise that caused pins in your brain, you could make out the words he desperately attempted to meet your ears.

“Wake up,” he repeated. “Run,” he begged. “It’s not safe here.” His smile broke as he lunged forwards. Face pressed flush against yours, the inky black tendrils spilled from behind his eyelids. “He finally found you.”

CRASH

Heart pulled straight from your chest, you woke. Confused, you grabbed at your chest and quickly surveyed the room. Your adrenaline was pumping wildly through your veins as you scrambled and pulled your knees tightly to your chest in a small attempt to self regulate from the horrible nightmare you had. The ringing in your ears was so loud, you could hardly recognize the sounds of a scuffle downstairs, nor did you recognize the tall, pale figure watching you from the tree line with his inky tendrils drawn into the earth like tangled roots ready to swallow you whole.

36 notes View Post

rakkoferno

1 year ago