Image ID: An illustration of a woman in a tuxedo carrying another. The woman in her arms is ghostly and skeletal, wearing a bridal dress that melts into her rib-cage. The one in the dress has a face that is obscured by a blinding light, mushrooms, cobwebs and butterflies.
Drew a quick something for Amnesia’s 10th anniversary! Y’all know how much this game means to me. As cheesy as it sounds, it really was life changing, and there’s nothing I’d change from these ten years of being in this silly ass fandom <3 Congrats on the ten years, @frictionalgames ! Looking forward to Rebirth <333
some NPC concept art for the Geist chronicle I am working on. These are Sin-Eaters, people who have been brought back to life by an archetypal ghost that follows them around.
SomeartworkI used as inspiration for one of the geists
I always thought Thor’s eye wound wasn’t gnarly enough. Like I know the movie is meant to be suitable for children, but it just looks so flat and in the theatre you could tell that the opacity of that layer wasn’t at 100% so you could see Chris’s eye through it… anyway it still bothers me when I watch Ragnarok so here’s this.
For Inktober Day 4 here’s a concept for if The Thing crashed into the north pole instead of the south.
I imagine an instance where a caribou gets assimilated while sniffing for grasses and a polar bear later approaches what it thinks is an old carcass to scavenge, only to be attacked and assimilated as well.
Idk much about junji ito but his work is super cool and ive had this idea for a batim crossover in my head for a while ^_^
The original drawing is fanart by @/obj_SHEP on twitter!! I got the idea for this entirely from their art - i thought it was official since it’s redrawn and used for merch, tattoos etc so often but i didnt find out until after id almost finished so credit goes fully to the original artist for the redraw inspo!
Afflicted by the Skies and the stars, Mazarine has seen quite some of them.
Writing under the cut!
They’re alone in their bridge - their locomotive is befallen by everything that befalls a locomotive in the skies. Massive frost and glass spikes break open their hull - they don’t seem to care. Or notice. You think you see rags tied to their engine like the death scavengers do, but its hard to tell. A glimmer of brass, underneath.** **> The hull is an amalgamation of parts from other locomotives, welded and molten together. You can’t tell how this thing is still sky worthy at all, but it seems to shunt forwards anyways, aggressively.
There’s a serious infestation of guests on board - you can see them splurging out from what must have been crew cabin windows, but they look starved and limp, only squirming pathetically. They don’t find enough nourishment here.
The horrific locomotive keeps lurching forwards, shrieking and shuddering and roaring, towards you. You hold your breath as it passes your own. You catch a glimpse of the captain, or whoever else the person in the bridge is - at least you think it’s a person.
They are propped up on the controls, staring dead ahead out of the windshield. Shards of glass sprout from their skull, almost like a distorted, jagged crown.
Fire fills their breast, spilling out between the ribs. Most of their skin is charred. An arm, missing, a clump of blackened, molten glass.
What’s a body part to an artificial sun, blinding and loving and filling?
What’s an artificial sun to the real one? To what lies beyond?
Their stare is piercing, something whirling and grinding and working behind their exhausted face, eyes bright and incomprehensible.
Are they alone? Do they have crew?
If you would ask then, they wouldn’t know the answer. They giggle. Does it even matter, whether anyone else on board is alive or whether all that remains are charred spots of ash? They laugh in the face of whatever it was that befell them.
Their engine burns too brightly, too vibrant, you think.
But you don’t ask them. If you’ve ever been sure of anything in your life, it’s that you want nothing to do with this…. you can’t even find the words.
You watch, tense, as the ragged locomotive passes you, seemingly no interest in your own. It disappears into the fogs - the horrific coughing and roaring of the engine clinging to your ears long after.
You tell your stokers to go faster. You steer the opposite direction.
Wah, I’ve had this in the works for a long time, and finally decided to actually sorta finish it-ish. Because lucifer is the best. And a little Sammy doll.
![Wow! It's Corruptimles [Commmissions Full 5/5]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bf0e84692e5eae530aded20860e5d620/47fc0a7154c146d8-3f/s30x30u_c1/40078549555e3159fb7932c315e308cd36422927.png){kind=small}
![[ID] It's a digital drawing of Godrick the Grafted from Elden Ring. There is a top text in all caps Impact font saying "Imagine being born into grace" and a bottom text saying "and somehow managing to fucking lose it despite best efforts not to". On the right side of the image is a little box with a drawing of King Morgott from Elden Ring wearing sunglasses inside, with text saying "this post was made by grace-given gang".](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e4070db602bfb543086a52bbdb624942/c88b7ff5cba6e071-c2/s640x960/7d62769a1dc6f8ddaaea03eb1969954ca8174121.png)
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