#pentober
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art i did for Pentober 2022
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My husband drew this ogre girl for spooky season and I had to color her. So cute, if you want to see his stuff check out. @negativesanchez
#cute ogre girl#cute spooky#cute ogre#ogre girl#ogre#onii#pentober#artober#artists on tumblr#digital art#colaberation#art colab
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Pentober - October Writing Prompts!
Hello there!
I made a short post about this on my TikTok, but I'd like to put it here too :]
My friend and I were thinking of making a writing version of inktober; pentober! A handful of writing prompts to write a short story for every day of October. We have a handful of ones right now, if you're interested please let me know! If this gets enough traction I'd love to make a Discord server for fellow writers and Halloween enthusiasts.
I'm sure something similar exists, but when I tried looking up lists for prompts I found nothing specifically for writing, so I'd love to start/see something for that :D
P.S. this is NOT kinktober. my friends keep saying that please stop
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⚔️ Kingzvire: The Outlands 🐗
Some of my pentober ink drawings showcasing characters from my original art series called Kingzvire: ‘The Outlands’.
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It’s October so here’s to Pentober haha and to start off here’s DAY 1 :D
Day 1: Pikachu
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Day 5 - E is for Erased
Prompts: An anime for every letter of the alphabet.
#Day 5#Artober#Drawtober#Pentober#Inktober#Still not sure about the tags#Art#My Art#Traditional Art#Boku Dake Ga Inai Machi#Erased#Hinazuki Kayo#Kayo Hinazuki#I'll admit#This was rushed
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FGOctober 2020 04: Nightingale (Santa) Slowly making my way through the list of servants left. Here’s another santa, Nightingale. Her umbrella gun and artillery bag were such headaches.
#shue drew#sketches#traditional art#inktober 2020#sketchtober#artober#drawtober#pentober#fan art#art challenge#fate grand order#fgo#nightingale#fgoctober
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about the inktober mess, it seems the person who actually started inktober itself is the one who trademarked the word but it seems the whole C&D thing was a misunderstanding between him & his lawyer?? apparently he just wanted companies to be issued a C&D, not individual artists. he made a tweet about it & said he’s gonna talk to his lawyer
Yeah, I saw that tweet and summarized what he said– that he was trying to target Inktober merch and not individual artists selling art from completed prompts. But the description in the trademark does specifically mention it affected art books, sketchbooks, and prints, so this might be a case of the result straying from intention. Regardless of what the trademark was intended to do, artists HAVE been sent take-down notices and threats from a lawyer as a result of it.
I never said that I thought the creator meant to target small artists– just that it happened. Like I said– it’s a confusing mess hahaha
#destiny answers#Anonymous#i mean i totally get wanting to protect the inktober logo and officially-branded merch#like the creator has every right to sell blank inktober-branded sketchbooks and paper and all that#but until this is cleared up it might be safe to just scrub the word off of anything you're trying to sell#like call it inkintober or something i dunno#pentober#linetober#don'twannagetsuedtober
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Day 8: Skin
13 was surprised to see Matthew so soon considering what had happened during the outbreak of scp-610 in a small town which was thankfully in the middle of nowhere. He wasn’t in uniform either which threw 13 off even more, once she had noticed. Laura noted her silence as grasped her shoulder as 13 looked over to her.
“Reality, I mean 13… You okay? You know him?” Laura asked in a whisper
“Yeah. Agent Matthew, a member of the MTF group called: The Red Right Hand. He protects O5-5 personally, I heard.” 13 hissed back as Matthew talked to the desk and was pointed over to them.
“I’ll get Henry. Stay on site” Laura cursed as she bolted off leaving 13 to be approached by the man alone. He tried to smile for her, but it look forced and unnatural. 13 scrunched up her nose at it which made Matthew stop trying as he sighed softly.
“Why are you here?” 13 asked, not masking her surprise or shock while having an aggressive undertone.
“To talk to you...since…. You know.” Matthew said, glancing to his wrist where 13 saw another eye peering through his skin at her. She slapped her hand around his wrist with the eye as hard as she could before dragging the man outside. Matthew yelped at the action as he quickly stumbled forward along, tears in his eyes as he felt her grip leave his wrist.
Matthew looked at his wrist and his eye there seeing why it hurt so bad. 13 hand was holding thumbtack which now sat in the eye. He sobbed trying to carefully pull them out, but it hurt too much as he closed his eyes. His wrist staying open from the tacks as it appeared very unfocused and cloudy 13 watched for a moment, before turning away.
“Wait. Please. 13. Don't ...don't. I’m sorry, okay?!” Matthew cried out realizing she was leaving as 13 tried to ignore the man’s pleads to at least listen.
“No. I don’t accept your apology for the very reason that you were the sole reason of that outbreak. You don’t get to come to my work with a: I’m sorry stick, and then walk away like nothing happened. Especially after what happened at the fast food joint with Clef.” 13 snarled as she stopped and turned back to Matthew who sat still as he looked ground. The wrist eye crying water and blood as 13 felt her heart clunch in pain.
“I’m sorry… I just wanted… to make things right.” Matthew said through his sobs as he looked up at her with his glowing eyes, “But I guess… I should have thought this… more through consider what… position I put you in.”
13 jerked her gaze away as she saw Laura and Henry rush by the ajared door and out of sight as Matthew began to get up. 13 return focus on him as could only glance up to her face as she closed her eyes and stormed over. Matthew took a step back and landed into a planter as 13 grabbed his wounded wrist . Him panicking when his eye on the wrist suddenly wasn’t in pain and could see clearly. 13 let go as he checked it over as 13 flopped down beside him, eyes still closed.
“I am still mad at you okay? I am on edge from Clef and really don’t want to see any Skipper right now. You showing up has not helped, but I also shouldn’t have lost my shit on you. Even if you were being careless.” 13 said opening her eyes and gently touching Matthew’s pinky finger with her own. Matthew sniffed and nodded.
“I understand… Thanks for not throwing me in a reality bend” He said after slowly entwining his hand with 13’s. 13 let out a puff of air with a smile as she moved her thumb over Matthew’s knuckles. His skin was like velvet to her fingertips as she shifted closer, so their arm’s could brush each other..
“I didn’t even think about doing that… heh.” 13 hissed out as Matthew hummed also moving closer so that their arms touched. It felt like a long time they laid like that. 13 feeling calmer while Matthew stopped sniffling as they got up in silence and walked back inside together. Henry was relieved and then upset at 13 as Matthew lied about being here to thank her for the help and to truthfully, bring a message from the O5 council to Henry. Laura escorted Matthew out as 13 followed Henry to his office.
The letter was read in silence by Henry before handed to her folded up. He patted her bandaged arm before dismissing her to the hallways. Once outside the door, 13 looked at her bandaged arm and was glad she had flopped down next to Matthew with the unbandaged one as she felt the ghost of his skin against hers. 13 then rubbed the feeling away and left to her office to read the letter in peace.
@star-reads-a03
#13 aka agent reality#agent matthew#sarkicism#scp#scp foundation#scp uiu#unusual incidents unit#a tie in#matthew has a crush on 13#13 is a softie i guess#o5 council#director henry#mtf scp#red right hand#pentober
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Day 8 of #inktober The theme was "FRAIL" She was small and hunched, The years clung to her like burrs... #amwriting #writersofinstagram #writersfollowwriters #writerslife #poetry #poem #pentober https://www.instagram.com/p/B3YJ3qcgNWE/?igshid=7alf9wke0e0x
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Fictober 31 Day Challenge Day 27: Loss
TW: Character Death, Hospitals
It was storming outside.
Markus laid perfectly still on the floor of his room, staring at the half finished ceiling.The painting he had been working on was of a beautiful sunset, with a chain of androids and humans holding hands down the middle.
When he wasn't working for the revolution, he liked to paint. There was something soothing about painting, the brush moving across the campus as easily as water did along a river bank. It made Markus think of Carl.
The lump in his throat grew bigger.
This house, this room, this street, everything reminded him of the father figure he had lost on a night just like this.
He and Leo had gone to visit their father. They were getting along pretty well, now that Leo was sober and Markus was a deviant. They had been in the room when it happened.
Carl coughed loudly, and turned to them, clearly pained. "Be happy, my sons. Be happy and free," he had said. His voice was hoarse and drained, so little warmth and life left in it. His monitors started making dangerous noises.
Leo screamed. Markus tore out of the hospital room, shouting for a nurse or a doctor. His brain felt fuzzy and he was numb all over.
He hadn't been in the room when he died. It was too late. Leo shook and cried like a newborn, face so red he was barely recognizable. Markus just sank into a chair, burying his head in his hands.
Now, Markus couldn't stop the tears. He wanted to scream, writhe in pain, throw things around the room like a wounded animal. But he didn't. He laid perfectly still ok the floor, eyes burned open, and let the rain carry him off to his happy place.
The one place where nothing had to change.
#dbh#detroit become human#Markus#Carl#Leo#DBH Markus#DBH Carl#DBH Leo#Detroit:Become Human#Fictober#Writetober#Pentober#October Writing Challenge
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Pentober
Hey y’all
I just wanted to do something different this month and I saw this post by applejuiceace on a pentober challenge.
click here to find out more :)
Imma start at 17 since that is the day I started. I hope you enjoy lmaoo
October 17, 2019
Write about a color, but you can't say the name of the color
She is everywhere.
In your room at night when you are all alone.
When you question if you really ever were happy.
She sits there enveloping you in a dangerous hug. A hug a drug addict would fear.
Even though you are monotone you fear her unknown.
Yet you don't mind the comfort that she gives you.
So you lay under your covers with a false sense of security.
Lulling you to sleep you naively believe you are being taken care of.
Even if the sun rises and a new day will start you can't hide from her.
After all, she is everywhere.
authors note
if i didn't make it obvious enough i was referring to the color black. growing up id always had a love hate relationship with black especially if we associated it to the night or darkness. i was afraid of the dark. i still am. i hate being in a dark room with no one being there with me, but i have to sleep in a pitch black room. otherwise i wont be able to fall asleep. heading to bed is always an interesting adventure.
since sleep is a strange limbo for me and my feelings towards the color black are yet to be defined i wanted to have liberty with my writing style. that is why i went the poetic way. i didn't want to feel as if i was restrained. i really don’t know why i decided to personify the color as a woman but i blame big mouth and the depression kitty.
thank you for reading my ted talk.
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Day 2: Outer Space
rCole stared into her broken helmet visor as the night sky stars appeared in it. Her shadowy reflect piercing the glimmering lights as she softly smiled before feeling Nate, her AI, wake up.
“Pretty” Nate stated into her mind.
“Yeah… Beautiful. Shall we get going?” Cole softly breathed out. Her voice sounding off in the planet’s atmosphere as Nate confirmed a good to go. Cole then slipped the helmet back on, making sure the seals held, before grabbing up her weapon. Her eyes glancing up to the stars once more, feeling Nate do the same in her screen.
“Space...Really got a way to make everyone feel small” Nate stated as Cole felt his systems running about to find out more information in general on space, not just colony planets or known space stations. Cole laughing a bit at it as Nate tsked at her for it.
“Fine, but you gotta tell me all the cool facts.” Cole said, beginning to cautiously move and look for other life human or otherwise as Nate now laughed back. Cole tsking him as he agreed to do such and more. The stars just carried on sparkling above the foreign planet, hidden in the depths of Outer Space.
@star-reads-a03
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October Challenge 2) Lost
Dogmeat
After a rough day all you wanted was some love, not affection from a human, no kisses or worried comforts in words. All you wanted were cuddles from your most loyal and beloved Companion Dogmeat. He says nothing, just nuzzles your hands or lays against you keeping you warm and safe.
You arrived at Sanctuary, going back to your old house and began to call for him.
"Dogmeat" You yelled out, then waited a few moments. "Dogmeat!" You called again. But after a few more minutes he still didn't appear.
"Hey Preston?" Preston who was walking past stopped and looked at you.
"Yes General?"
"Have you seen Dogmeat?"
"No, I haven't seen him since you left with him"
"What? B-but I sent him back. He should be here, I sent him back a week ago" Now panicked you began to run around Sanctuary calling his name. You checked every house, down by the river, asked everyone if they had seen him. But nothing, he wasn't there.
"Fuck, shit.....ooooh damn" You paced back and forth, hands in your hair as you tried to remember where you sent him. You ran down to Red Rocket but he wasn't there either. "He could be anywhere. Ok think, did I send him to Good neighbour, or Diamond City?
There was only one thing you could do, and that was to go to every settlement and place you could have sent him. You ran for days, still running with stitches in your sides and cramps in your legs. Your feet hurt from blisters, your lungs gasping for air. Your stomach groaned from not eating, and you were close to passing out from not sleeping. But you had to keep going, you had to find him.
"Why did I send you away boy, I thought you would be safe. I didn't want you to come with me and get hurt. But what if you were hurt going home"
Tears fell down your cheeks as you continued to run, searching every building, every raider camp, every Super mutant lair. He could be anywhere and you were going to check everywhere.
"What if something happened to you. What if you were taken by raiders, or eaten by a Deathclaw" Your tired legs buckled underneath you, forcing you to fall to the floor. Your chin and arms scrapped across the hard ground. But you couldn't worry about that now.
Panting hard you let yourself rest, just laying on the floor thinking of all the terrible things that could have happened to Dogmeat.
"Please boy, be OK. Be at the next place please." You sobbed, wishing Dogmeat would just run up the road to you right now. "Please...I just want to stroke you and hug you again"
Memories of Dogmeat filled your mind. How soft his fur was, how warm he kept you at night. The wet licks he would give you when you came home. His happy barks if you brought him treats. He was loyal, always sitting at Sanctuary waiting for you to get home, waiting for the day you would return. He never knew if you would, but you always did, always giving him hugs and head scratches. You loved him, almost as much as your husband and son. The beautiful dog, so pure and innocent, now lost in the wasteland.
You had to find him. Pushing yourself up from the floor you moved on, determined to find him.
3 months had passed. You sat at Red Rocket, the place you first met Dogmeat. You never left unless you had to. If someone really needed help, then you would just go back and wait. One day he would come back, come running up the road. You would run to him and he would cover you in slobbery kisses.
Tears stung your red eyes. Even Valentine couldn't find him. But you knew that if you just waited here, Dogmeat would come to you. He had to, he had to come home.
He can't be lost, you refused to believe that he would he's lost and you may never see him again. He would come back. He had to. You closed your tired eyes, resting your head in your knees. Sometimes you thought you could hear his barking, but when he wasn't there you knew it was just your mind playing tricks. But one day, it wouldn't be a trick. Dogmeat is alive and will come home.
"Please...come home safe"
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"Night two: Peter"
- Time candy time, children!- Mrs. Smith announced, with her formal smile and an enormous tray full of sweets.
A wave of hungry and smiling children ran towards her, forming a riotous circle around her, demanding their portion of sweet heaven.
Mentally she enumerated one by one the little monsters invited to the party: Mark, Ruffus, Kendall, Ashley, Mickey, Holy, Molly, Drew, Vanessa, Kelly, Ian ... Where was Peter? She was sure that Drew, her son, had taken charge of inviting him that night. In fact, she would put her hand on the fire, swearing to have received him hours earlier at the door, dressed in his funny werewolf costume.
Concerned, though not nervous, she went looking for her husband, Steve. Surely poor Peter had gone to have a formal talk somewhere quiet; well known was how bad that little man felt in noisy and rowdy places.
-Steve honey, have you seen Peter?- She asked, frowning curiously, meeting her husband in the kitchen. Although it did not surprise her, it bothered her to see him there, isolated with his newspaper while she took care of everything. How easy it was to ignore everything!
-I didn't. Although he's probably chasing some mouse in the garden or being upstairs playing with Drew's toys. You know what that child is like.- The sweet Mrs. Smith, who had to restrain herself so she doesn't strangle her arrogant husband that same night.
With the level of concern increasing, she crossed the hallway with a short interval between heel and heel. She opened the door, letting the cold come in and freezing her long legs; That year she wanted to disguise herself as a waitress in the seventies, and didn't take into account the fact that a skirt in the middle of autumn would be the worst of ideas. She looked around, reviewing the relief of her front garden meticulously, but she didn't find more but little groups of children crossing the street to the next house to ask for candy. The anguish slowly grew in the depths of her insecurity, and she slammed the door shut, beginning to lose patience. She turned around in frustration, ready to go and reprimand her husband, guided by the tremendous fear that something had happened to little Peter. The children didn't have to know, but that pigeon could show a minimum interest.
Turning around, she found little Peter standing in front of her, still in her disguise, except that the mask must have left it somewhere. His black eyes looked directly at her, and he rubbed the tips of his fingers conscientiously.
-Are you ok, Mrs. Smith?- He asked, barely in a whisper. Or, at least, it was barely a whisper between so much scandal coming from the room.
She took a breath, closing her eyes with relief and bringing her hand to her chest while a smile decorated her face.
-You scared me, little one. I thought something had happened to you.- She assured, smiling at him kindly.
Peter didn't say a word. He had stopped smacking himself, but he still had traces of some kind of strawberry or raspberry syrup at the corners of his mouth.
-The sweets are over.- Little Peter explained, wiping the remains of whatever that sticky concoction was on his sleeve. The coat became sticky and reddish, skimming the black.- But don't worry, Mrs. Smith, I've fixed it. Everything is solved.
She stayed there a few seconds longer than expected. What did he mean exactly? Steve got him more sweet? If so, she only hoped that the children wouldn't mutiny against her fighting against a supposed inequality or favoritism.
Leaving Peter behind at the entrance, she returned to the kitchen with Steve. He was still where she left him when she went to look for Peter in the garden; sitting there too busy reading the column of sports to listen to his exhausted and hardworking wife that all she asked for was a little attention.
-For your information, Peter wasn't in the front yard. It surprised me from the back when I was going to try Drew's room.- She said, turning her back to start scrubbing the dishes. Steve was silent. - "Oh Hannah, what would we do without you? I know I never say it, but you are the best" .- She mocked, imitating the voice of her husband, who didn't answer her. -Very mature, Steve, ignore your wife.
Fed up with her husband's silence, Hannah slammed the tap abruptly, taking off her gloves, reluctantly. She turned, glaring at the man in that chair in front of the television, holding the newspaper.
-I am talking to you!- She insisted, offering him one last chance to get rid of her tremendous bad mood. Which, silly of him, rejected.
Hannah walked furiously, slamming the paper aside to look directly at her impolite husband. The only thing that came out of her throat was a terrible and paralyzing cry of real terror.
The noise stopped suddenly, and only then she was aware of the true weight of silence. Her eyes widened, analyzed the inert body of Steve with horror. Blood poured from his throat, uncontrollably, even though he was no longer breathing.
Tears welled up without warning. The trembling seized her body, and horror paralyzed her face. Soon, the kitchen was full of terrified children who admired the scene in the same lascivious and morbid way that a traffic accident was seen; you knew you had to stop, and in fact you wanted to stop ... But it was a superior force.
-Don't touch him, Drew. Are you all ok? Someone must have entered ... Peter? Where is Peter?- Hannah asked, looking over the heads of the pale children, scared.
-Mom, who are you talking about?- Seeing her mother's disbelief, Drew added, -No Peter has come to the party ... In fact, there's no Peter in my class.
On the open page of the newspaper there was a chilling message written on a permanent black marker.
"I HEAR YOU, HANNAH SMITH."
#pentobertext#pentober#artists on tumblr#art#books and libraries#books#blogger#dark#death#escritores#fiction#halloweentext#halloween#long reads#literature#my words#my writing#novel#writers on tumblr#poets on tumblr#poetic#poet#poetry#prose#poem#reading#tumblr text#terror
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