#neophytes

[reclusiarch-orm]

It sucks to be a neophyte.

just two brothers, growing into their new bodies together. new organs, hormones cycling, aches pains and nausea. had this one in my to-draw for a very long time. got round to it as a warmup. i really think it would suck for them but they get through it. or at least, some of them do. don't know about baby on the right here. he doesn't look like he's taking to the new stuff right.

[little-miss-bioweapon121]

Skeeter: “Ha! You look like a snooty top-sider!”

Pip: “Ha! Now you look like a smushed bug!”

Bonus:

[koscheys-skull]

Bullying, Mean, and Honest Truths About Spirituality

Under the cut is an honest and crude description based off of my own bias and opinion of new people joining Spiritual practises, the occult, or seeking magic and mysticism.

So you want to start practising the Occult.

You are drawn to the idea of Mysticism, Magic, the Occult, and “Witchcraft”. Let me say that again, but louder.

You.

Are Drawn.

To the IDEA Of Mysticism, Magic, the Occult and “Witchcraft.

A lot of people like the idea of pets.

Pets are fun! You get a cat or a dog and they hang around and you imagine yourself going for long walks or hikes with a canine companion, or sitting at home and enjoying the company of a furry feline. Maybe it isn’t a dog or a cat or a common household pet. Maybe you want a bird! They are fun, right?

You see people on the internet through videos on whatever platform you’re wasting your hours on. You fantasize about what you would do or have. You spend hours entertaining this fantasy while looking at everyone else’s lives and situations.

You are drawn to the idea of something.

And then you ignore the important detail that these things require work, time, and dedication.

The Occult is just like people and pets.

There’s more people that i know that should not have pets than people that I know are responsible pet owners.

This, for me, is the same with the occult. Only, if you choose to neglect the Occult practise you claim to be drawn to, there isn’t really a penalty like a vet bill or a dead creature that you were supposed to be responsible for, for your negligence.

“Oh, I’ll just pick a “class” like an RPG and I’ll roll with it.”

Will you though? Will you dedicate the time and energy to do research on the subject matter you claim to be interested in? And not only will you give it the time and energy to just begin with the research, but will you also put in the dedication to put it into practice?

Be realistic with yourself. What are you actually going to do? Are you capable of maintaining routines and managing yourself and keeping up with the demands of the occult? Or are you just whimsically interested in it because it sounds “cool” and you had some friends in school that played with some tarot cards so now you think you’re a witch.

Let’s pretend you do actually have the self control and discipline to dedicate yourself to a spiritual path and practise. Let’s pretend you have that kind of integrity (but let’s be honest, you and I both know that’s a load of wash.)

Most likely, you’re coming from an Abrahamic Background, aren’t you? In the least, you’ve spent a lot of your life surrounded by vaguely misshapen ideas of “some sort of binary system where there’s good and bad spirits” or something or another and demons might be a thing? You don’t really know. But you took a class once that talked about Greek and Roman gods or maybe the Norse and Celtic gods, so you know there’s Gods out there! So that’s a START! Let’s go!!!!!!!!

You can just pick a god and run with it, right? Like, who cares? Just pick what makes you go “Yeah that’s neat and cool. I’ll take this out for a spin.” and pretend that you’re somehow deeply connected to this being. You read something or another about this deity or this pantheon at some point or another (or something like that). Just google search and read the Wikipedia page and waste a few more hours on it till you’re a Reddixpert on it! You have everything you need and a few days later you throw down a candle and incense and you’re blown away by feeling a strong connection to this god! HOLY COW! It’s working?! Let’s face it, you’ve not been connected to anything at all in your self obsessed life for a long time. So you think it’s “Special” when you get an answer. It’s not.

Sorry, sugar. You’re not special. You’re not a little special little sugar plum fairy that is adored by the gods. Because, believe it or not, you have to build relationships. But not just that, you’ve just pulled a “White Person” move. Most likely, you didn’t consult with or have any discussions with practitioners of the ethnicity and belief system you are interested in. Nor did you research the culture and how the religious and spiritual beliefs of those people manifest. I would suggest you learned some or a little bit or even all of the language of the people that the religion belonged to, but let’s be honest again with one another, you don’t have that in you for sure. You chose to take a God from a Pantheon and chose to take it entirely out of context. Congratulations! You pulled a White Colonialism Move so good that you took it to a spiritual level!

What? You thought you could just pick whoever from wherever and just rip them out of their culture, place, language, and people and water it down till it suited you? What is this, Wicca?

It might be! If this sounds like your idea of fun, check out Wicca. They’re full of it. You have gods from across all seas (Except for some reason the Pacific? Not sure if it’s a weird Asian racism problem or if they’re just focusing on everything the British Empire stole from) being Shipped together like smutty fanfiction. It’s insane. Anubis and the Morrigan are having babies every year, I guess, and their child, who’s always a Son, is the next Cernunnos who is also Pan but also Hades and also is Thor every third life (or something, I don’t know I’m not Wiccan).

What, you didn’t think that you actually had to respect a culture and the people that a religion belongs to? What are you, a pilfering bandit? There’s a right way and a wrong way to do these things. But what’s important is that you have to be honest.

Yeah that’s a big word. “Honesty”.

How honest are you with yourself? How true are you to what you think you can achieve and accomplish? Are you really going to read all of those books and write notes and document things? Are you really going to make a whole entire lifestyle change that surrounds and accommodates the culture, belief systems, and structures of a culture’s religion and beliefs? Are you? Are you really? If you make the change, are you going to commit to the change? Or, in a few weeks or months are you going to revert right back to the way you’ve always lived your life?

Again. This is the difference between enjoying the idea of something versus actually doing the work. And that is what the occult is. It is work.

Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. It is putting you on the grindstone and making you both rethink, reshape, and re-evaluate your entire being. It is going to make you uncomfortable. It is going to challenge you. It is meant to help you grow and be better. And growth doesn’t happen when you’re being spoon fed off of a lace spoon. Your idea of what things are is going to be challenged.

That’s another word that has a tendency to throw people out of the Occult. Challenge.

If you’re new to the Occult, you’re going to have to learn a critical skill that, in my opinion, very few possess.

Everyone wants to be “right”. It sucks when you’re wrong. How well do you handle it when someone corrects you. Let’s be honest. It’s awkward. It’s embarrassing. Everyone wants to be right. YOUR PRIDE IS SENSITIVE DAMNIT!

You’re a sensitive snowflake and you need to be swaddled in soft cashmere and reassured that you’re perfect because of course you are, sugar-pie.

But we have to touch some grass and live in reality. Yeah, I know the occult feels like you’re indulging a fantasy, but it’s not. Spiritual practises and spiritual beliefs are real things that have real people of many different cultures and languages and walks of life. And these practises are not just little badges and stickers you can throw on a water bottle and make yourself feel like a “Validated Witchy Bitch, Baby! ‘Cause we’re Feminist and COOL.”

(And by the way, you are not “The Daughters of the Witches you Couldn’t Burn”. Get fucked, you uneducated slut.)

You are going to have to approach everything, and yes I mean everything, with the air of caution in your heart and mind that says “Maybe I do not know what I am talking about.”

This is almost impossible for some (haha just kidding it’s pretty much everyone. I’m guilty of failing at this sometimes myself), to approach everything that someone says with an air of “Maybe this person knows more than me.”

When you engage with other people and you give them the space to speak about a subject that they are educated in, always be open. You must be so open that you automatically assume that you know nothing about the subject that someone is going to educate you on. Assume you have no education at all. And then listen. Yeah, I said it. You have to listen.

Listening??? To someone else??? Telling you what’s what???? Are you kidding me? What is this, a Learning Experience?

Yes, Yes it is you poor summer child. It is a learning experience. And if you can’t be bothered to learn and to try and learn then you’re not going to make it.

And if you can’t be bothered to listen, to read, to do work, to give effort, and to re-evaluate yourself constantly, you are not going to make it.

So make the choice.

Commit. Or walk away.

No one is going to think poorly of you for admitting that you’re not cut out for this.

But everyone. Everyone you interact with that is a real practitioner with a real lifestyle that encompasses their spiritual practise (because, surprise! The spiritual and the Mundane are intertwined in a very close and intimate way for practitioners) will be able to sniff you out from a mile away and know that you’re not worth your own salt.

It’s okay to be “casual” in some circumstances. It’s okay to be “subtle” or to follow paths that are more accommodating to your needs. That’s fine. Don’t get me wrong. This is a high energy and very taxing experience. There are paths that are accommodating to your needs and your degree or spoons, your laziness, or your life conditions. (I’m inclusive, dammit. Some people are disabled. Some are just fucking lazy. Some are kids with a fantasy fetish. I don’t know. I don’t care. Figure out which you are and make choices like an adult).

But don’t go picking a path or integrate yourself to a spiritual lifestyle that has high demands or you cannot adhere to. Not only is it disrespectful to the culture, the people, and the beings involved. But it’s not good for yourself, either. You will not benefit from the experience. You won’t make it anywhere and you’ll be left constantly feeling like a failure because you cannot accommodate the demands of a lifestyle and belief system that has expectations that are outside of your parameters to accommodate.

But back to YOU! Because let’s be honest, this is mostly about YOU. Everything is mostly about you and yourself. That’s just how a massive amount of people think. Which isn’t wrong, don’t get me wrong. But you have to be Self Aware. (I know most of you are not self aware. Get over it). When you set yourself up with all these fantastical expectations and then nothing progressive and fantastic happens with your practise, it is mostly because you failed to follow through with your own work. Something happened along the way where you struggled for some reason or another and you didn’t have the discipline and the integrity to keep up with something. And that feeling sucks. You feel “Let Down” by the Occult. But you let yourself down. In some way shape or form, you let yourself down. Because everything is about you, this means you have to be responsible for YOU. Yeah. I said it. You have to be responsible for yourself. No one’s wiping your Spiritual Ass for you. You have to do your own work and wipe your own spiritual butthole, and that also means cleaning up your own spiritual messes and doing the spiritual work and dedicating the time and dedicating the energy and making the changes to your life you need to make and then committing to them. It’s all Change, baby! And if you can’t handle change, then you can’t handle commitment to the occult.

And that’s okay! If you can’t handle some things, then DON’T FUCKING DO THEM?????

Maybe step away from that. And yeah, it’s okay to “try” some things to a degree. But please. For the love of fuck, approach them with the respect, dignity, and understanding that they deserve. Always approach a practise (And 99% of all practises have roots in SOME sort of ethnic culture!) with the respect it deserves. Do your best to adhere to those cultures and their beliefs and be as strict as you can while accommodating those traditions. They’re called “Traditions” for a reason. Treat them like they are sacred because they are. I shouldn’t have to explain to people that “Traditions of Spiritual Cultures are Sacred”, yet this post is being made because, quite clearly, this is a common issue.

I’m not “Gatekeeping” anything by saying this. I’m telling you to explore as much as you can. But when you do so, don’t explore different spiritual practises and traditions like the tourists that make the locals want to commit a homicide. Which is how so many people getting into the occult treat Traditions they are exploring.

You want to be a good and a welcome guest. You can’t just trample whatever you feel like because you’re too self centred with your selfie stick in Greece to be aware that you’re disrupting people trying to live their daily lives. The locals should want you. Try to connect to the people and their language and culture. Don’t just stand in their ways and think their society should accommodate you because you’re visiting.

It is okay if something turns out that it isn’t for you. Be honest about it. Be respectful about it. Thank the people and the culture and those gods for their time for being Gracious Enough to Host you. And then move on. A little respect goes a long, long way.

The Occult and Spiritual practises opens the way for you to re-think everything that you believe and to apply new ideas, beliefs and principles to yourself to help you grow and explore yourself and your connection to people and places with deeper understanding.

Be honest.

Be open.

You have to grow. And if you are interested in the Occult, Spirituality and Mysticism, get ready because there’s going to be so many growing pains.

And if you can’t handle that,

Then why are you here?

[tragediambulante]

Detail from the baptism of Neophytes in the Bracacci's Chapel, Masaccio, 1425-26

[candyswirls]

An Eye for an Eye, a Pup for a Pup Chapter 2

Link to my AO3 if you prefer to read it there.

It’s surprise adoption day!

Just a warning:

Canon typical violence, alluding to child deaths, wounded children/teens, kidnapping/abducting

It’s the burning of Prospero, it’s not going to be a very happy day.

*************************************************

Finnja awaited to descend upon Prospero. He gripped his axe, still weary of being tasked with the neophytes and geneseed. The other legion apothecaries would be attempting to thwart him and his brothers.

They had their orders though. This was not their first time doing this save for a few newer wolf priests. It was the first time for the promise. A few of his fellow wolf priests and battle brothers joining them had been informed of the promise.

They had interpreted it as each wolf priest could pick one neophyte. They were sticking to this. They would ask for forgiveness, not permission.

“I’ll pick the one that fights back the hardest,” one suggested. “Would be a good wolf.”

“That means they’ll keep fighting even after their legion and planet are gone.” Another pointed out.

“Just don’t get a weak one.”

Finnja spoke, “Enough. You will know which one when you see him.”

The ship finished its descent and the bay doors opened.

The thrill of battle filled him as they moved through the city. He went off of instinct. Swinging his axe through Thousand Sons. They had barely begun the assault and the witches still had not used their sorcery.

He was fine with that. He was on a mission. Get to where they kept the geneseed and more importantly, the neophytes.

He followed the similar scents he knew so well.

They fought like krakens. Each apothecary and marine falling as they moved through. The building was large and had a vast landscape for recreation.

As soon as they broke through into the building, young screams rang out.

Finnja’s heart sank. They couldn’t save all of them. But they could save some. He himself could save at least one.

Some tried to fight and utilize their training. Much younger ones tried to hide or run.

He went to the apothecary quarters and slow the thousand son there. He quickly took some of the geneseed and placed it into the canisters he brought. They had been hidden on his persona and after they were filled, he wiped down the outside and tucked them away where none would notice or smell them.

He then pulled the pin on a grenade and walked out as the flames of the explosion licked his backside.

He saw one Priest Brother carrying a neophyte over his shoulder. The neophyte kicked and screamed as he tried to fend off his kidnapper.

He passed another brother lifting an unconscious neophyte and carrying him out. Finnja only paused at the still bodies to see if there was any bit of life. Each was dead. His hearts ached and tears asked to be shed freely. He wanted to take them all. He knew Russ was mourning destroying his brother and his sons, but did he really understand the pain that Finnja felt?

He took in a deep breath and shook his head. He needed to focus. He had his orders and he had the promise. He needed to find the one he could save.

He moved through the building and paused outside an empty room. The door was off its hinges. The beds had been knocked over and torn up. The closet emptied of its contents. A few bodies lay in the room including one of his brothers.

He scanned the room and sniffed. There was someone still in there. He stepped in and moved some of the beds, listening for frantic movement and breath. All was still.

He followed the scent to a bed that had been flipped and pushed against the wall. He peered behind it and saw who he was looking for.

He stared down at the neophyte, no more than a lad. He scooted further between the wall and bed frame, eyes wide with fear on the wolf. His blue eyeshadow and kohl were smudge with blood spatter. Tears had already begun to previously spill.

The Wolf Priest easily moved the bed out of the way and the neophyte dropped to the floor. The youth looked up at the wolf priest and he could feel psychic waves roll up at him.

Please. Don’t kill me. I’m scared. I will fight to the very end.

The wolf priest crouched before the youth and extended a hand.

This one would do. He’d be his pup.

He reached out the hand to the neophyte. He would show him mercy and kindness first. The boy eyed him wearily and slowly took the hand. In a flash, the neophyte swung around his other arm and stabbed Finnja in the hand and leapt past him. A wave a psychic energy hit him, stunning the wolf for a moment.

Finnja roared as he grabbed his hand. The blade had been serrated. His wound bore the same cut and pattern as the slash marks on his fallen brother. This one had fire in him and was smart.

He moved out to the hallway, looking for his escaped pup. The scent had faded though. Had he covered it?

He hurried up to the next floor to see another brother lifting a neophyte he hog tied.

This boy sobbed but his brother looked proud.

“This one is stealthy!” He announce in their native tongue. “He’ll be a fine warrior after I train him.”

His brother carried out the neophyte. Finnja’s own was nowhere to be seen. Allfather, please let him find this pup. He continued to sweep the building till he got back to the ground floor. Had he escaped?

His ears caught a sound. It was faint but he strained to listen. He heard shrieks from outside, a young voice in pain. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He bolted out of the building. More screams echoed.

He slid outside and ran till he came to any alleyway where he heard the cries of pain.

The young neophyte was held up against the wall by a Bloodclaw. He had a large gash on his head now. Another bloodclaw snarled at the lad and used the knife to carve into his flesh.

The second bloodclaw roared at the youth, “This will teach you to mess with us! Thinking you could kill a space wolf! Damned sorcerous witch! I’ll kill you!”

He jabbed the knife in again, carving into his skin. The boy gasped in pain. All Finnja saw for a moment was red.

He found himself gripping the bloodclaw by the back of the neck, snarling.

Finnja howled at him, “GET YOUR PAWS OFF OF HIM! HAVE YOU NO HONOR?! HE IS A CHILD! YOU KILL WITH THE MERCY OF THE ALLFATHER, NOT PUNISH FOR EXISTING AND TRYING TO SURVIVE! YOU HAVE NO HONOR!”

The bloodclaw choked and nodded quickly.

“So…rry…” He managed to get out.

He dropped him and he collapsed to the floor, coughing.

He turned to the other who let go of the neophyte and quickly backed up. The neophyte collapsed.

He snarled at them, “You have been taught better than this! I know because I taught you! Wretched and disgusting behavior! Unbecoming of a proud space wolf! This is the behavior of Xenos and sorcerous worshippers! I am ashamed of you and you should be too!”

If the Bloodclaws had tails they would have been tucking them.

Finnja growled, “and all over getting hurt by an aspirant! It’s cowardly!”

One bloodclaw stammered, “w-we’ll do it right this time, s-sir.”

“No,” Finnja said.

Finnja knelt down and picked up the neophyte. He looked down at his new pup.

“I choose this one,” he said. “He is fierce and cunning.”

The neophyte whimpered, not understanding Fenrisian. He could feel psychic waves of anger and fear washing over him.

He spoke to him in Gothic, “You are safe now, my pup. I will take care of you.”

His pup just whimpered in response, not believing him. It didn’t not help as he placed cuffs on him. For both of their’s safety.

He turned to the two Bloodclaws.

“Now that this fiasco is finished,” he said. “Get back to the battle lines and act like a real wolf! I will deal with you after.”

“Yes sir!” They said as they ran off.

He sighed. Bloodclaws were always hot headed and too excitable.

He turned to carry his pup back to their Thunderhawk with the other taken neophytes.

A few sisters of silence stood outside, ensuring no escapees or using of the warp.

Finnja tried hard to not flinch as he walked by them. They were unnerving. His neophyte spasmed in his arms, letting out some more whines and hiccups.

The Thunderhawk was filled with quiet whimpers and wailings. Some tried calling for help when the door opened till a wolf priest snarled at them to be quiet. All had their hands bound and not a single one was left without wounds.

He nudged against his brother.

“Be just,” he warned.

Another wolf priest tended to the neophyte he picked. The lad glared at the priest with utter fury as he let himself be stitched up.

Another was in a corner, refusing to look at the one who brought him here.

He laid his own down and got to work the wounds, seeing which were the deepest.

“You’re the last one, Finnja,” a brother informed him. “We’re taking off.”

Another of his brothers commented, “Great ice scapes. What happened to yours? He’s all carved up like a roast!”

“Some hot headed Bloodclaws got mad he managed to wound them,” Finnja answered. “Set them straight. Being all petty like that.”

Another brother sighed and shook his head, “Bloodclaws am I right?”

A chorus of “Ayes” followed.

Finnja began stitching the gash upon his pup’s head, trying to beat when the ship would take off. He finished and placed a bandage over it as the thrusters roared and the ship took off.

Some of the neophytes broke into tears as they began to realize they were ascending. They would most likely never see Prospero again. It would burn long before they’d ever get a chance to return.

Finnja sighed as he watched his pup. He stared back with fearful eyes. Cautious study sweeping over him. The pup hated him right now. He most definitely was afraid and weary of him. But that would fade with time as Finnja would become a figure of strength and protection for this boy. He had no one right now besides his fellow neophytes.

Finnja looked out to his brothers. He was very grateful that none of these youths knew Fenrisian.

“This isn’t over,” he said. “Some may not survive the continued surgeries to become full Astartes. We’ve taken them from their home and people. They did not choose this. All they know has been taken. Everyone they knew will be dead. They will hate us for a while. Some of our other brothers will not accept them and will wish them harm or even dead. All they have now is us. Remember that these are young children. Be kind and merciful to them as they assimilate into our ways. They already have been privy to their own. Protect your pup. You’re the only standing between them and other bloodthirsty wolves.”

One of his brothers chuckled, “Aye, just like Finnja to care so much about neophytes.”

Finnja smile, “They are precious to me. If I never became an Astartes I wanted to become a father. You know the story.”

Finnja turned back to his pup. He wheezed and had his eyes closed.

The kohl and blue eyeshadow was smeared across his face along with blood. His eyes drooped and his dark skin was now pale. His long hair was in knots and he shivered on the cold floor.

Finnja sat on the floor and pulled his pup closer. His pup whimpered but quieted when he pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around him.

He removed his helmet and stared down into amber eyes. The neophyte seemed almost shocked to see a person under the helmet.

He flinched as Finnja reached out a gloved hand and gently brushed some hair out of his face. Confusion spread into his expression and soon tears began to flow. The neophyte pulled away from his touch and rolled to face the wall. He tried to quietly hiccup but it turned into wails.

One of Finnja’s brothers muttered, “Shut him up!”

Finnja eyed his brother, “He’s young and just witnessed his brothers getting massacred. He’s hurt and scared. Leave him be. Let them mourn.”

He reached out and rubbed his pup’s back.

He spoke in gothic, “There, there little one. You can feel. I know how terrible this feels.”

As the ship shifted, his pup eventually went silent. Finnja listened to his breathing and heart rates. He had passed out.

They docked at the main ship and the tension grew. Some tried to resist, being pulled to their feet.

Finnja lifted his pup, holding him cradle style in his arms.

They led them from the docking bay to the apothecarium.

Some of the fenrisian aspirants tried to catch glimpses of their newly adopted thousand sons brothers.

Another priest barked at them to return to their rooms.

Each priest was able to do a full check up on their neophyte. Seeing what organs had been given and what surgeries had been completed. Some had to be restrained as they resisted.

Finnja laid his pup on the exam table, still wrapped in the cloak. He began stitching his other wounds. The various cuts and serrations. He felt his blood boil as he saw slurs and crude fenrisian words carved into his skin. He was going to become incredibly hard and merciless on those Bloodclaws.

He numbed the area and stitched as well as he could. The best way to minimize scarring.

He finished and had the serfs come to help clean him up. They were quick to remove the blood, debris, and kohl. They gently combed out his hair. It was long but fortunately most space wolves grew out their hair.

They changed his clothes from the tattered silk Prosperan robes to the warm wool casuals of the space wolves. He was young and small.

Finnja hooked his pup up to IVs for blood and hydration. He dismissed the serfs and sat next to the cot. He watched the pup breathing rhythmically. His skin slowly returning to its normal shade.

He stroked his head and sighed. He already loved him dearly and hoped he’d be able to convey that.

He wondered what his pups name was.

[chomplicated]

[pastabaguette]

the title of this piece is “h8”

i’m really kind of forcing the 8 up there in her diary entry, i know, but i just really wanted it there

[starsnores]

baby gamzee and his legal counsel

[valentinemesis]

[S] Flip.

[evil-homestuck-textposts]

[redglare]

[ASKS ARE OPENED]

[voidlace]

[little-miss-bioweapon121]

So as adults, do the nightlord Neophyte trio change much?

Oh definitely:

First and foremost they all undergo the Astartes process which is in and of itself and incredibly vast procedure. But personality wise skeeter and pip are the ones to mature the most, bigs keeps his cynical sarcastic nature.

Pip actually ends up outgrowing Bigs by nearly a full head, thanks to Mama feeding them well and pip spending a longer time eating a consistent food source of course. Bigs is forever salty about it.

Bigs goes the route of the Atramentar, given he’s kept two kids alive in the underbelly of a hive city for the better part of 4 years it’s not very surprising that he’s got the skills to back it up.

Skeeter goes the route of the Warp Talon like Mama, not very far into their mutations yet but they developed the uncanny ability to crawl across surfaces like a spider and spin their limbs a full 180 without injury. (mama is so proud)

And finally Pip doesn’t really choose any specific route, he just goes where the chaos follows. (As is the case with all youngest siblings.)

Of the three kiddos Pip is the only one who’s adult form I’ve actually drawn!

[rememberthepetrichor]

This is canon i think.

[workdailylog]

Maybe a terezi or neophyte redglare doodle?

11/14

[scythekind26]

it's a vriska bionic arm and redglare type of night 💭