especially horny ones about my ocs
accepting art requests
2 notes
·
View notes
tumblr user dr-malcolm-practice┊No Exit, play by Jean-Paul Sartre┊Perfect Vermin, ItsTheTalia┊pinterest user lizziedumpling┊discord user glitchedlad┊Perfect Vermin, ItsTheTalia┊tumblr user iluvtboytummy┊The Spirit Bares Its Teeth, Andrew Joseph White┊pinterest user sarabgh┊pinterest user shawnwritez┊Yes, to Err is Human, So Don't Be One by Will Wood┊The Spirit Bares Its Teeth, Andrew Joseph White┊Terry's Taxidermy by Teddy Hyde┊The Kiss, Malcolm T. Liepke┊CG from Boyfriend to Death, Gatobob┊tumblr user the-black-manor┊tumblr user objectbiologist┊tumblr user vampbaitxxx┊KinitoPET, troy_en┊Strade, Boyfriend To Death Fandom Wiki┊tumblr user j-ckdaw
uh... yeah. maldaw webweave
my first webweave btw give critique
i was originally gonna make this general theme Malcolm & Jackdaw & Ogien but i served and went full shipper. sorry. it will happen again
theme: maldaw (malcolm practice/jackdaw) && "i think surgery is innately intimate, actually"
divider by baexywth
19 notes
·
View notes
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ this cat doesn't bite! 🐈⬛
CATTIE STIMBOARD!!!!!!!
grayscale--black, gray, white
cats, glass & ceramic, dresses, broken/glitchy tech
gift 4 @julietheidiot
might make a winston stimboard... and also... a yandere winsattie board... because i am that bitch...
x x x x 🐈⬛ x x x x
6 notes
·
View notes
winston lore post;
studies on antidepressants
and how i taught myself to die
tw [ death, mental illness, descriptions of blood and gore, suicide
and suicidal ideation, guns. ]
Dr. Corvus toiled on the floor. His skull cracked and folded under his skin. Masses of flesh waltzed and crawled loudly begging for help, knowing there was a better way. But Winston is a stubborn man, who dared not to listen.
His abdomen crawled with life--something that wasn't him, something hopeful and naive and loud. He cried out to it, something about how he’d tried every antidepressant and drug and chore and it never worked. The pharmacy and the oils and the stars lied to him, how he couldn’t be cured. A life lived in eternity is a life which he sees no hope in. Not like this. Not like Corvus.
Every cough drew up more bile, decayed crawling remains of morning coffee, beady silver swimming and refusing to bond to the blackened blood draining down the man’s chin and throat and core. He grabbed the lump in his muscles and pulled and tugged and fought and it did not come loose. He didn’t want to live, but he is the plaything of whatever cruel deity lies above. Whoever granted him his birth--one truth--but refuses to grant him one more--his death. He collapses, hitting the hardwood and being forced out of whatever contortion he tried to maintain. He didn’t remember how it felt anyway.
Doktor Corvus was a desperate man ever since that day when he walked home from his studies and put a bullet to his head and his heart, stubbornly, loudly, defiantly beat in his chest despite his brains on the wall and his skull glistening like glass. Broken like glass. And he looked up from his state on the floor, denied death as the poison tore through his body and ran thick in his veins, and he saw a man. Tall, like him. Brown-haired, like him. His messy hair flowed around the cavern in his face where a heart beat, loudly, almost as if he was hearing it in his own head.
The man vanished into Hyde’s mind, and suddenly, he felt different: like his body wasn’t his, and that he wanted to live.
Hyde sat across the counter, sipping on some fancy coffee. He lamented on how the attempts to clear his veins of the silvery medicine Jekyll had fed Winston when he was whole, and by extent, the masked naturalist, were unsuccessful. But he wasn’t the one searching for a way out of living. He was searching for a way out of living as a passenger in a train, a way to rid Jekyll of this body.
After all, that man took no issue with throwing his birth given name away, so why should Hyde let him keep it?
9 notes
·
View notes