#g: spoop

[tentaclebot]

Lis & Felix were created way back when Channel-tans were a thing and were based off both the joke "Adult swim jr" and Dabble and Yoto's "Adult-swim tans". At least that last bit is true for me, I don't know for Spoops I made Lis, the short ginger and Spoops made Felix. Spoops gave me Felix and I reworked her design a bit and gave her overalls and changed up her shoes but overall it's still Felix. I fiddle with the idea of makng a fight comic with them (Cinnys Twitter) twitter.com/CinnyThe (Twitter)twitter.com/HoursAccess (Artstation) www.artstation.com/tentaclebot (Pixiv) www.pixiv.net/en/users/2928327… (Baraag) baraag.net/publicaccess (Instagram) www.instagram.com/ (webtoons) www.webtoons.com/challenge/das… (Tapas) tapas.io/series/Cinny-The-Arti…G (Bluesky) https://bsky.app/profile/tentaclebot.bsky.social

[soybeantree]

pairing: grimreaper!do kyungsoo x (reader) genre/warning: fluff if you squint word count: 3k+ description: sequel to ‘revenant’. your life with kyungsoo comes with an unnatural amount of challenges.  a/n: july installment...in december (don’t ask) of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. we know it’s the holiday season. we know this is spoopy. BUT we have finally reached year 2, which means sequals to a lot of our kyungsoo stories...or so i’m told. -em

Your father always said that life as the cemetery’s caretaker comes with more problems than benefits. Weird work schedule, no social life, constantly surrounded by the dead. You find little in your life to contradict him. Your current predicament only lends credence to his belief.

Waking up in a coffin without a body should startle you, but your father had also warned you this might happen. He had even had you spend afternoon’s in a coffin so you would understand where you were if or when it happened. Ghosts will always try to return to the world of the living. He had told you countless times. They have unfinished business; otherwise, they would pass on.  

As caretaker, you have a connection to the dead. You can see them and communicate with them which comes in handy when you need them to stop destroying the hedges and defiling the mausoleums, but the connection also opens you to possession. Possessing the living is difficult for ghosts though, even with a connection. However, last night you had broken one of the cardinal rules of being a caretaker. You had gone to bed drunk. 

You had come home after a long night of work to an email from the City Council with a list of complaints about your work. The flower beds needed weeding on the west end. Ivy had overgrown several prominent crypts in the east end. The walking paths by the north gate had unsightly cracks. The list went on and on. The City Council likes to forget that you are one person who can only work at night. All the other caretakers they have hired quit within the first week, and the Council wishes to maintain a pristine image of the cemetery for tourists which means that all work done must be done out of sight of them. 

Halfway through the list you had popped a beer. You finished the first one before the clock struck eight. By noon, you had finished the remaining beers in your fridge and felt much better. You could laugh about the two malevolent spirits from the night before and the tornados of fury they had unleashed on five plots a piece. You reread through the Council’s demands, adding colorful commentary about what they could do with their list.

A competent caretaker would have stayed awake until they sobered, but a competent caretaker would have also stopped at two. You passed out on your couch which is why you were currently waking up in a coffin.

You sigh again. Your father will be so disappointed when he finds out. He was the previous caretaker and had gone his entire career without ever being possessed. He taught you because it was a necessary lesson of a caretaker, but he had patted your head and told you he believed you would never need the lesson. If you could bang your head against the coffin’s lid, you would.

As lying in the coffin will do nothing to aid your situation, you will yourself to rise through fake silk and mahogany and six feet of dirt into a new night. The cemetery awakens around you, familiar ghosts rising from their graves. They float with ease down paths as they go about their business. You struggle to move yourself down the path to the south gate which is blessedly close to the grave of your body snatcher. 

“Can it truly be? A ghost has stolen our dear caretakers body.” The gleeful exclamation breaks your concentration and you stutter to a stop. Of all the ghosts to see you in this state, it had to be her. 

You ignore her as you resume your journey. She floats circles around you, continuing to grin but maintaining silence. On her third trip around, you stop and raise your hand, staring at it. You wonder. She stops in front of you and chuckles. Hand extended, you place it on her cheek. It stops, unable to pass through. The place where hand meets cheek feels like the chill mist which rises from a waterfall but solid. Her brow furrows as you pull your hand back. Realization brightens her eyes, but too late. Your hand collides with her face and sends her flying feet from you.

She whines, a high pitched wail which has surely sent a chill rushing up some passerby's spine. 

“For what reason, do I deserve such treatment?” 

“I have a long list, but I’m certain you know what most of them are.”

Her nose scrunches up and her lips purse, but she keeps her peace. With a huff, she floats off.

You allow yourself a moment of pleasure. Being possessed is unacceptable for a caretaker, but it has a benefit. You have wanted to slap her for years.

After much struggle, you reach your house which rests near the cemetery. You glide through the door and head for the study. In the Caretaker's handbook, there is a section on what to do if possessed. You read it when you were young, but years have stolen much of the information from your memory. 

The book sits on the middle shelf in a middle bookcase in the study, eye level with you. The peeling spine with its faded black script taunts you. The dead affecting the dead is an easy task, but the dead affecting the living world takes years of practice and a deal of determination. Your hand swipes through the book over and over again as your frustration mounts. You shriek. A gust of wind rushes through the room rustling the pages on your desk, but the book remains locked in its spot. 

Aside from you, no one in the city can see ghosts. There’s a girl down the street who might be able to hear them, but once her ears open, she can never close them. You will leave her to her oblivion. No one should have to deal with the constant pestering of ghosts. You make another swipe at the book with no hope and no alternative. 

“Do you require assistance?” 

Another benefit to add about being possessed: no blushing. Also no shivering. No indication of embarrassment or attraction. 

Spinning like a ballerina in a music box, you face Kyungsoo, your cemetery‘s designated reaper and your first crush. The answer is ‘yes’, but you’d rather him go away and pretend he never saw you in this state. “Do you know how to reverse a possession?” 

He blinks, the gesture odd on his solemn face. After a moment, he shakes his head. “I have never had to deal with a possession since becoming a reaper.”

You nod. Of course, you would be his first possession. “In that case, could you grab that book?” You point at the guide. When he does, you direct him to set it on your desk and consult the index for the section on possession. Page 74. He flips the pages and settles it before you. 

“It seems simple enough.” You muse. “Find my body. Remove the spirit. Re-enter my body. You can remove a spirit, right?” A glance at Kyungsoo negates your simple comment. “What?”

“I can remove the spirit with my scythe.” The large metal hook shimmers into existence on his back when he starts the word and disappears again when he finishes. “However, it would be a permanent removal. A spirit guilty of possession does warrant such punishment.” His voice is soft, and you can sense the ‘but’ he leaves unspoken.

Kyungsoo, like you, has a soft spot for wayward ghosts. Rather than send every malevolent spirit to hell, he attempts to coax them back to themselves. 

“Then I’ll have to convince it to leave. Which shouldn’t be too hard if I can figure out what it’s unfinished business is.” Kyungsoo’s brows furrow. “It’s easier than you think.” You shrug as you glide past him, your movement less stilted now but still difficult.

“As caretaker,” you continue, pausing in front of another bookshelf. “Can you grab the last book on the third shelf?” He does and sets it by the Guide. “It is my responsibility to catalogue each plot and document its resident. Open it at the bookmark. The grave I woke in is fairly recent, probably in the last year. Flip back a few pages. Stop!” Your finger hovers over the page as you scroll down the list of names. “This one.” Lee, May. Buried June fifth. About six months ago then. Beside her name is the superscript III. 

Gliding over to yet another shelf, you scan for the corresponding notebook. “Can you…” The request peters out as you glance back at Kyungsoo. His dark eyes shift between the book on the desk, you, and the bookshelves around you, and you can imagine the cogs in his brain turning as he puzzles the pieces together. 

“Cataloguing their name, date of death, and resting spot is the responsibility of a caretaker, but why notate about their lives?” He asks. 

“My grandmother taught me too.” You pause as grief stirs. Even as a ghost, the emotion rises. She moved on. No lingering regrets kept her tied to this place. Kyungsoo, himself, saw her off. 

“She said a proper caretaker knows her charges; otherwise, she can’t do her job properly. Dad didn’t see the purpose in it.” Your gaze shifts to a shelf with one growing volume. In what little free time you have, you have started to go through the burials in his time and record the details of the dead. 

“Your grandmother was a great caretaker.” Warmth fills his voice, or perhaps jealousy is fueling your imagination. Kyungsoo has been the cemetery’s reaper since before your grandmother’s time. She was a great caretaker. She loved her work, and, unlike you, had never shirked her responsibility. 

“Yes.” You say because the alternative is an awkward silence. “Can you grab this one for me?” Without a glance back, you indicate the notebook with the corresponding III. His arm reaches past you, his body against your back. You wish you could feel his presence. 

He sets the notebook on the table and opens it to the date of her death. You read through the entry, ignoring him and focusing on the task at hand. May Lee left behind a husband and a son. The son is twenty-four. The quick sketch of his face at the bottom of the page resurfaces the memories from that day. 

Even though the funerals occur during the day when you sleep, you drag yourself from your bed to attend. From a distance, you record the key points of the event, mainly who comes and how the new ghost reacts to their farewell. Mrs. Lee had stood beside her weeping son throughout the entire service. Her face had been a mess as she had reached for him. She had grown more and more distraught each time her arms passed through him instead of wrapping around him. 

“Her son. Whatever her reason for possessing my body is, it has to do with her son.” You snap your fingers and miss the satisfying sound of the click. “Can you turn the page? His address should be on the next page?” Kyungsoo does. Closing your eyes, you picture the words and repeat them to yourself.

“Would you like me to bring the book with us?”

“Us?” Your eyes snap open, and you stare at him.

He nods. “I will accompany you. Unless you no longer wish my assistance.”

You could write a check list of your body’s reactions to this moment and are again grateful that your spirit lacks the ability to create any of them. “I mean if you’re not busy.” With a smile, he closes the book and tucks it under his arm before waving you onward.

Kyungsoo matches your snail’s pace. With each block you pass, your irritation rises, and you begin to realize why most ghosts only haunt the cemetery. Even if you had better control, it would still take forever to get anywhere around town and beyond. “Can ghosts learn how to ride in cars?” You ask as another one whizzes down the road.

“Yes, but it takes great concentration to maintain a solid enough form and often results in sightings which lead to Grim Intervention.” You nod in understanding and keep trudging forward. 

A chill like the first breath of autumn air settles on your hand, and a glance reveals Kyungsoo’s wrapped around it. His skin has no texture, no solidity, but it holds yours. He pulls you along beside him. 

“I suppose I should have known that a reaper could affect the dead world as well as the living.” 

“If my assistance insults–” He begins to pull away, but you tighten your grip, an odd sensation like trying to grasp the wind. 

“It doesn’t. I appreciate it, especially if it means I’ll get to my body faster.” Though you are enjoying the time with him. “We both have important duties waiting for us.” The cemetery comes first.

The son’s house sits at the edge of town. A monstrous structure of red bricks and white columns and far too many balconies. Despite the late hour, several cars still circle the fountain at the driveways center. Lights shine through the windows, and you catch the shadows of figures as they pass in front of them. 

Kyungsoo pulls you through the front gate and up the drive to the glittering building. You pass by groups of people as you traverse the mansion’s halls, searching for your face amongst the unfamiliar ones.  Deciding that May must be with her son whose presence is also lacking from the assembled guests, Kyungsoo leads you up the stairs, a feat impossible without him. Your ghostly form responds well to front and back and left and right, but up and down prove difficult. 

The second floor breathes an air of relief, the crowds unwelcome in this private space. It begs the question though why the son would be alone up here with so many guests below. You pop your heads into the rooms as you pass. They are stale with emptiness. If you were human, you would shiver, but as you are, you sigh and walk past. 

Turning a corner, a pair of doors greets you, light lining its bottoms and sides. In front of the doors, your body stands. A hand hovers over the knob.

“He won’t recognize you.” You call, startling the figure. “You’ll just be some random, crazy girl.” May stares back at you, your face paling whether because of you or the reaper is left to the imagination. “We’re not here to harm you. I just want my body back.”

“My son-” Your voice breaks, the sound stiffens your spine. You refuse to cry in front of others.

“I know you miss him. It’s not easy to let someone go, but this is dangerous. If I was here with any other reaper-”

“I promised him.” She cuts you off with another sob, covering your face with your hand. The sight roils your stomach. 

The cool breeze of Kyungsoo’s touch settles on your shoulder. They ease as you meet his eyes and acknowledge the unspoken words. You glide back as he walks forward, stopping a few feet from her.

“May, please come with us. You hurt your chances standing outside his room, engaging in a one-sided conversation.” His low voice eases hand from mouth and calms shaking shoulders. She nods and places your hand in his proffered one. 

One of the empty rooms offers a safe place for conversation. May begins, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have taken your body, but I promised my son.” The words quaver on a sob, and you fold your ghostly arms to keep you from doing something regrettable. You need to coax her out and random displays of aggression won’t help. 

“He became engaged when I was admitted to the hospital.” She continues once she has calmed again. “He told me I had to get better, so I could come to the wedding. I promised him I would and that I would tie his tie. He’s always been awful at it.” A sniffle and a smile punctuate the statement. “The wedding is tomorrow.” Tears pool again. Sympathy wars with annoyance, so you fix your attention on Kyungsoo. The eerie serenity of a reaper holds his features in place as he awaits the story’s conclusion. You force your features to mirror his. “I want to keep my promise. I had no intention of stealing your body when I came. I only wanted to asked for your help, but-”

“You saw an opportunity and took it.” You shake your head. Any ghost would have. A caretaker courts danger during every moment of their job. A good caretaker prepares for it. Both your father and grandmother drilled this fact into your head, and you had failed them. Despite your annoyance at her for such a disgusting display of emotions in front of Kyungsoo, you understand. Your grandmother made many promises and passed without warning. She would have never attempted a return, but you wish she had. 

“No matter your reasons, your actions are a damnable offense.” So much for coaxing her out. 

You suppress the accompanying moan, the sound unseemly on the eve of a wedding. Your attempts to gain Kyungsoo’s attention and redirect the conversation fail. His focus remains solely on May. “The longer you remain in this body the more you will draw the notice of other reapers.” 

A shudder shakes your body, and again you try for his attention in vain. “For your sake, you must leave. We will find a way for you to keep your promise to your son.” He holds his hand out to her while you gape at the both of them. Why even come along if he was going to go with the brutally honest approach. 

May’s hand rises from within your body. The spectral fingers grasp Kyungsoo’s, and he pulls the rest of her out. Your body falls limp to the floor, a creepy shell with lifeless eyes. You blink, and the eyes blink back at you.

Closing your eyes, you mimic the inhale of breath. The Guide had said in order to return you must remember the feel of your body. The way your chest expands with each gulp of air, the weight of skin upon bones, and the steady beat of your heart in your veins. Opening your eyes, you look up at May and Kyungsoo from the floor. As you sit up, you take stock of your body, wiggling fingers and toes and stretching muscles. 

“I didn’t expect it to feel so weird.” You muse, pushing yourself off the floor. Your legs wobble beneath you, and Kyungsoo grabs your arm to steady you. His solid hands are cool still, but the thrill of an autumn breeze is missing. 

“It will feel normal soon enough.” He promises.

Whether he’s right, only time will tell. In the meantime, you have a promise to keep. “How are we going to help her tie her son's tie? I have no idea how to do it, and I doubt he would want a reaper doing it.” You continue to lean on Kyungsoo as you glance between him and May. 

“May will walk you through it, and you will help him to see her.” His confidence is nearly strong enough to make you confident, but not quite. 

“She can make me visible to my son?”

Your “no” contrasts with his “yes”, and you stare at each other in a silent battle. Your grandmother and father trained you in all the abilities of a Caretaker. Neither of them had mentioned the ability to make ghosts visible to the living. You communicate this through your glare while Kyungsoo returns it with quiet confidence. “How?” You finally mutter, pulling your arm from him to fold it across your chest. 

“Through your will. As a caretaker, you are a bridge between the living and the dead.” 

“And as a grim reaper aren’t you the same?”

He shakes his head. “I am a gateway for the dead and am able to affect the world of the living because the dead do.”

“Please.” Your protest dies on your lips as May rushes towards you, her sad smile full of hope. She reaches for your hand, her fingers passing through it but you feel them comb through your palm. You shiver. “Will you try? I can teach you how to do his tie.”

Holding her gaze bolsters the shred of confidence Kyungsoo instilled. “How do I will it?”

“You already are.” 

As you watch, color returns to May, her body solidifying before you. The light from the chandelier above still casts no shadow, but the wall behind her is lost to her form. You grasp her hand. The skin is soft and will give under the slightest pressure, but you can feel it. 

“Creepy.” You whisper. An odd word for a caretaker, but today has been an odd day.

The rest goes easy, or as easy as telling someone that their dead mother is going to keep her promise through you and then making their dead mother appear before them can be. The fact that her son knows about you from rumors around town does help though. After the initial shock, everything does go easy. The next day May’s son allows you to tie his tie while she stands visible beside you. 

Her promise full-filled, May faces Kyungsoo ready to pass into the beyond. But Kyungsoo allows her another mercy. The three of you stand at the back of the wedding hall to watch the union, and when her son glances back after his first kiss with his wife, you will her to appear. She waves, her face beaming with joy. You smile, and when you glance at Kyungsoo, you find a smile on his lips too. 

[friendlyfoxpal]

Ghost Stories

Here's a G/t duo telling some ghost stories around the campfire. Really spoopy stuff! Don't know if the big guy can handle them. Hehe!

[territorial-utopia]

I had a nightmare that was pretty much a neat concept for an indie horror game

But that aside obviously woke up a lil freaked out and what is it that calms me down? A fusion of @ashiftingworkshop and @icangiveyouanything, Doppler.

There’s something calming about having a 200ft entity splatter your nightmares under their boot.

[theshiftershop]

*Slowly slides in* Idea: Giant!Wilford warfstache being kinda of a douche to tinies. Not like killing them but scaring the heebie jeebies out of em'.

Dark probably told him I’d do some favors for him…

[whitchygaythem]

Pred teases prey, prey gets spooped, pred immediately goes into damage control mode. ✨Boom✨, there’s ur prompt bud.

I think I went too light on the damage control thing, but thank you for the great prompt!!

Mavis stretched, relaxing with her hands behind her head, flipping her shark- patterned tail lazily as she warmed her dark skin in the sun. Their eyes were closed as they began to nod off in the warm summer sun. 

"Mav! Mavis wake up! I'm down here!"

Mavis glanced down to see a human jumping up and down on the beach, waving her skinny arms for Mavis's attention, her long twin braids almost touching the sand.

"Hello Blair." Mavis sunk deeper into the bay, resting her head on her arms on the sand. Blair immediately scrambled up Mavis's arm, plopping herself down on Mavis's elbow. "Have you brought me tribute again?" Blair laughed, then smothered it. 

"If you mean food then sorry, but no. My roommate was getting on my ass about all the herring in the fridge" Blair twirled one of her braids in her small thin fingers. "Sorry Mav, I'll try to bring something else next time. Mavis glared at Blair. 

"Don't worry about making up for this time, I know someone who can fill in." Mavis growled softly to illustrate her point. Blair patted her on the nose.

"Ah yes, you're so very scary and big. I'm so terrified of you." Mavis would have loved to hear the pleading, but something told her blair was being "sarcastic". That felt even worse. Mavis's name used to strike fear into the hearts of mer-kind. She was the terror of the bays, the Devourer of tuna, pick any title. They all showed how feared she was. Then this little… Blair came to her a few months ago for a science project, A PROJECT! Mavis had lost too much respect during her break. She sat up as well as she could while still keeping her tail in the water. Blair tumbled off her arm and onto the sand. She yelled quickly as Mavis's hands thudded down on either side of her, with Mavis herself leaning into her, pressing her face against Blair's shaking body.

"Hehe, Mav, I get it… you can be really scary sometimes… now back up an- and let me g- UGH-'' Mavis cut her off with a full body lick, pushing Blair into the sand.  She lifted Blair up, she was pinched between her pointer finger and thumb. Mavis stretched her jaw, opening her mouth wider and wider until she felt a sucking pop and Blair's eyes went wide. Yes, this is what she wanted, to be treated with fear! And respect! She dropped Blair onto her outstretched tongue. Blair slid right down, and Mavis swallowed quickly, greedy for the weight of prey in her gut. She sighed and laid back down, just like she did before Blair showed up. It was perfect. Just like old times.

…

…

Something was wrong. The pleading, the crying, it didn't fill her with pride like before. Mavis shut her eyes again, trying to ignore Blair's cries and the voice of regret in her mind. But once Blair stopped fighting, and barely shifted, Something dropped in Mavis.

"Tribute- Blair. Are you alright?"

"No. And you know that. So just leave me alone and let me die."

"Blair-"

"No. Leave me alone."

Mavis huffed "Blair, you are safe. I swallowed you for my storage stomach, not for food. You are not food."

Blair was quiet, so Mavis kept talking.

"I meant to - no, I should have told you it was safe instead of trying to scare you. I-im soory"

"... I'm not bringing you anything next time, understand? And ask first before you do anything like this."

"Understood."

"....... could you swallow my backpack? I have an essay due…"

[monstersinthecosmos]

InktoberVC Day 01 - Alternate Book Cover | Blood & Gold

oh, my lovely jewel. how i have loved you both in innocence and guilt. you don’t know how much i have lusted after you, both as monster and man. you don’t know how i’ve turned my hunger from you when it was something i could scarce control.

[hereisleo]

from/ ‘All Hallows’ Eve’

w/ k.hj & reader

g/ inspired by “persona 3”: angst, friendship, supernatural

w.c/ 1k

a.n/ hello~ it’s me~ it’s been a while since i stepped foot in tumblr! sorry for disappearing without notice but i’ve not been in the writing mood for some time, life too has been busy. in honour of spoop month, here’s another piece to the series. i don’t know how many of you are still around but enjoy! happy halloween!

t.w/ ghost, blood, death

[First Quarter]

“Don’t.”

You stop in your tracks. Why? He warns you out of good nature but never is able to explain more. He doesn’t know either, he tells you it’s a bad time to go and you might see something you wish to forget. There’s no turning back when it happens. Unfortunately, the inevitable already happened. You’ve seen him, an anomaly in your usually normal life. Kim Hongjoong. A dead man. A ghost in your apartment.

“Have you gone out there? In the hidden hour?”

Hongjoong shakes his head. He doesn’t remember anything related to his death. As a ghost, he feels everything that living humans doesn’t feel. The danger, the restlessness, the wailing, the torment. He calls it the hidden hour, a secret hour where those without potentials turn into coffins and those with are preys. The hidden hour is where the dead become the living. Yet Hongjoong is still a ghost and you, a human, apparently with potential, are now sitting on your bed. The dark blue sky is tinted green with the half golden moon, so big and close to Earth almost as if the distance is reduced by half.

The coffins, water turning into blood, the gigantic moon are nothing compared to the lofty skyscraper of a tower appearing out of nowhere. A pseudo gothic edifice formed with the surrounding buildings pierce through the moon. It’s horrifyingly beautiful and Hongjoong agrees with your musing.

“I don’t know. Maybe I have. I can never seem to remember anything after a certain time. I can feel it nearing again, crawling under my skin.”

You look over at him, Hongjoong appears with his black and white striped polo shirt. Your first wild guess was a dead runaway prisoner but he miffly shut down the idea. No prisoner is as fashionable as he is. His hair matches his polo, black and white, cleanly split in half. Your second guess was Cruella cosplay which he took more graciously. A trailblazer of their own.

“You should sleep. There’s not much we can do at this time. If they sense you, you might as well be food for the dead.”

You tuck yourself in and Hongjoong too because he keeps you company while he contemplates life. The blanket goes through him but it's the thought that counts.

“Goodnight, Joong.”

[Waxing Gibbous]

“Joong? Hongjoong?”

Silence greets you in the hidden hour's eerie ambiance. You can hear the guttural noises the shadows are making down the street, louder than what you’re used to. Perhaps it's the moon phases, slowly but surely getting fuller each day, and each day, Hongjoong seems to disappear longer or have trouble appearing. Are ghosts affected by the phases? Why are you the only one who can see him? You’ve asked the apartment staff and none seem to know the existence of Kim Hongjoong.

“I’m here…”

Hongjoong looks a bit worse for wear. Did he lose weight? There are telltale of dark shadows under his eyes and his cheeks look slightly sunken in. The hidden hour. Where the dead becomes the living.

“Are the shadows giving you trouble?”

He slightly winced at your comment, it seems to hit the mark. He shut your window when the groaning of the shadows grew louder, clutching his forehead as if he had a very painful headache. You urge him to sit down, the blanket goes through him again but he never goes through your bed, what an interesting ghostly concept. He sinks further into your pillow, burying half of his face into it.

“That and my head feels like they’re splitting in half. I have dreams that don't feel like dreams. It’s always the same, it gets clearer each time.”

You reach forward to brush his fringes in comfort and your fingers painfully buzz with sharp static electricity. Well, that never happened before, your fingers usually pass through him with goosebumps trailing up your arms. He gives you an apologetic frown, too spent for another word.

“It’s alright, Joong, though I do wish I could see your dream so you don’t have to shoulder it yourself.”

His brows furrowed and he shakes his head. You should have been careful with what you wished for. It wouldn’t be long until you wished that his dream didn’t come true because that will be the last time you see your friendly ghost roommate.

[Full Moon]

Dreams do come true. The ear splitting roar you hear in your shared dream with Hongjoong becomes a reality. The bridge shakes and your footing is unstable. He can’t hear you, he’s too far. No, you couldn’t get close. There are instances where you are scared but this… This is fear.

Hongjoong is solid, he has pushed you away from him, his hands warm and strong against your shoulders. He drops to his knees, clawing at his head and letting out a heart wrenching scream. You feel suffocated within his presence.

“Make it stop! I just want to be free! I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

You jump, ignoring the handing in your ribcage, the twisting in your stomach and the cold sweat dripping down. Hongjoong, your ghost roommate, is alive. Your arms wrap around him, coughing when his elbow struck your chest but you held him. He burns inhumanly hot.

“It’s okay, Joongie. I’m right here. Be free.”

You didn’t know the implication of your statement, you didn’t know until Hongjoong looked at you with desperation, pain and guilt. But in that moment, he’s relieved and so are you. In an instant you feel bone chilling coldness seeping into you, so cold it burns. You hear shadows roaring and closing all around you, blood thick and pungent soaking your trousers, and coffins towering over you. Hongjoong starts to disappear, lighter and more translucent with each passing second.

“You must survive.”

Hongjoong’s parting word brings a specific memory. Those with potential are food for the living dead. The frantic rushing and jumping of shadows to feast, they were close enough for you to feel their teeth before you heard something shatter. The bell from the tower in the middle of the chime with intensity that rattles your teeth and eardrums.

Just like that the hidden hour ends. The twisted skyscraper disappears in a blink. The coffins towering over you turn into pedestrians, yelling and screaming at your state. You probably look similar to a notorious serial killer caught in the bloody act. In your arms is the cold body of Kim Hongjoong.

I must survive.

[akatsuki-gift-exchange]

Let the applications commence!

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[smolspoopy]

Hey spoops, I just wanted to say I started fallowing you back when you were making that swsh comic and I just gotta say....why are you so cool? Like? I remember the simping spy au? And Im not a skelesimp but I just like seeing people talk about their interests and I felt it was really cool of you that you expressed yourself the way you wanted to and also just your art??? amazing??? Holy fuck??? anyway, have a good night/ day ma dude

T HANK YOU O M G AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

this is the sweetest ask bro like du d e, the fact that you've been around since my ole pokecomic days is mindblowing like d U de

I hope u have a lovely day/night too and thank u so much for sticking around and witnessing my doodle shenanigans!!!! A H!!!

[itsmyturnonthegender]

Something you love starting with G 😊

Ghosts! Spoops are my friends :)

[fricking-sans-undertale]

*Sans barely dodges, almost getting hit. He teleports a few yards away, and it’s obvious that he’s already pretty tired. He sends another attack.

Help.

// ive had this idea for a while and i finally decided to do it, im trying a new style of writing for the role plays, because my old style tends to be kind of confusing.  so let me know what you think about the new style! (also sorry for any spelling mistakes :3) 

// possible trigger warning for blood, minor gore, and some disturbing images.

~~~

Buttercup sat at the edge of the woods, taking in the calm serenity of the wind and the quiet rustle of leaves. it was nice. he didn’t get many moments like this. to just.. relax….

“Howdy, Friend!”

Buttercup jumped, the familiar voice cutting through his thoughts. He mentally cursed himself as he turned around to face the grinning flower. …he should have know…. “H-Hello Fl-” he started, but flowey cut him off.

“Y’know friend.. an idea came to me a few days ago…”

Buttercup knew better than to run, running would only make the following even more painful, and the last thing he needed was more pain.

“I was thinking about how powerful you are, and how much you hold back when you fight one of your so called friends.”

Buttercup didn’t like where this was going.

“Soooo… then i thought, what if I just… helped you with that?~”

Buttercup felt the familiar squeeze of vines twirling around his ankles, but they didnt stop there. The vines wound their way up his legs, until it became hard to move. Buttercup started to panic, all sense forgotten, desperately trying to pull away. Flowey laughed at his attempts, squeezing his legs so he cried out in pain.

“Silly Steven, did you really think you had any control here?~”

Flowey continued wrapping his vines around buttercup’s struggling limbs, it got to a point where flowey had to pull him to the ground, struggling and thrashing in blind panic. Flowey stopped after his vines were secure, and buttercup couldn’t move.

“…This might hurt just a little bit…” chirped flowey, his voice dipping sugar and tar. 

Then ear splitting screams pierced the quiet forest, as flowey dug his vines underneath Buttercup’s skin, stretching his vines through the muscle and around every joint, making sure to steer clear of any vital systems. he pulled his whole form onto buttercup, taking complete control of his motions, and forcing him to smile as they jerked to their feet, the sound of floweys sadistic laughter and buttercups quiet sobbing replacing the usual quiet serenity.

//okay im not good at writing gore, so bear with me, also this is really, really messed up and im kinda scared at myself…

open rp! if anyone wants to rp with me after that….

@solarspinel @ask-flamey-candelstick @spoopedsteven @purple-steven @etfriskrp @fricking-sans-undertale @sprinkles-the-skeleton @fricking anyone, idfc any more

[four-bladed-fan]

✨🎵🎶~Some Music~🎶✨

Specifically about Mothfang because he's my main comfort character (but there are mentions of other ocs I don't do favoritism definitely not haha)

ANYWAYS. In no particular order:

I'd like to walk around in your mind by Vashti Bunyan (This one is definitely about/to Mothy buuut it's in a style he'd probably sing/write music in so there's that as well? Maybe it's Mothfang singing to me idk)

Turning Backs also by Vashti Bunyan

Pale Machine by Bo En (I REALLY want to animate this in a representation of the lovely ~codependency~ issues between Mothfang and Spoop-Dee-Boop's Swordsman. It's great.)

This really nice cover of Today from UmbraticForest (I have a whole script for how Lilac and Mothfang would sing lines of this song back and forth to each other in a fancy duet and how I'd animate it if I had the time/energy/skill but I'm not gonna post it yet)

Ship in a Bottle by Steffan Argus (Very similar to Today, I have a script for an animation I want to make but this time between Mothfang and Meta Knight! This is one I might actually do because I'm extremely hyped and drew a few sketches for possible frames just the other day)

Treehouse by Alex G (This I associate more with Swordsman because I was originally thinking of Thief and Swordsman when I added it to my long list of general character songs and now I think about Mothfang and Swordsman, but it still counts)

Flower from the OST for Inmost (By now I've essentially used the entire ost for Mothfang at some point but this was the one that caught my attention)

[spoopedsteven]

He’s back!

//hey gamers, mun here. I was gonna make this post yesterday, as it was my birthday, but I was busy. So instead I’m doing it today! I’m sorry for being inactive, a lot of stuff has been happening due to the ‘Rona.

Spoop was sitting on the beach in his own dimension, Peridot sitting next to him. She was taking notes on his current condition despite being horrified about what happened to him. Spoop was zoning out, thinking about the events that transpired when he got back.

“Steven?”

“Steven! Answer me!”

There was a loud, irritated sigh.

“Spoop..?”

He jolted slightly and looked over at her.

“Yeah?”

“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but how did you- how did you get shattered?”

“I got crushed. By a giant stamp.”

“Steven, remind me to remind you to speak up. Can hardly hear you through the static.”

“Mkay.”

Peridot continued writing as he stood up.

“I’m going for a short walk.”

“Okay, Steven.”

“It’s Spoop. Though I might change it...”

As he was walking down the shore, he’d glance at the water. Pearl had reminded him how dangerous it was, but he didn’t really care anymore. He froze, noticing a huge wave. He turned around and bolted back in Peridot’s direction. The wave was faster and submerged him.

A huge wave hit the shore of the Clutter Dimension, leaving Spoop in its place. He lay there, coughing up a bit of water. He glanced around. It was sunset in his dimension, but here it seemed to be midnight. He took a few deep breaths and stood up, his legs a little wobbly.

//this is open! @mermaid-steven @disaster-diamond @downhearted-steven-universe @audrey-redheart @toxic-nora @spinel-but-touch-starved @fractured-steven-universe @fucking-agent-3 @iammilomurphy @anyone else! I’m sorry if I forgot you it’s not personal I swear-

[astralnexus]

this is 100% my favourite bit in any of the 3 Scary Games videos that isn’t an intro. 

just the very low “turn around.” in the left ear? the potential for binaural spoops in future is very h i g h.

[violetkatgrove]

better question is what should i do to trigger the dreamworld to give me another god damn aooni dream ITS BEEN ALMOST A WEEK