Meet new man!

To be honest, his real name is actually Alexander, but for some reasons everyone call him Konstantin.. and for what reasons you’ll find out later in his story, what I’m working on!

Ahh i already love him

Also, Konstantin spits blood a lot ;(

new baby of mine! i don’t know how to name her yet, but i hope I’ll give her one soon >o< she’s supposed to be an oc for neil but I’m not sure yet “<:3

Introducing my smol chaos oc, Etti. They will ruin your day

New Oc

Shared w/ @lubewig-bottomschmidt , this is Toltec, his human name is Huemac & he’s fucking annoying.

Made a Cookie Run oc

He’s a coughdrop plague doctor lol

(yes he’s inspired with my coughdrop cookie combo as a kid )

May 30th “What are you doing?”

@themerrywhumpofmay

This one is BBU featuring the always horrible WRU. Be aware. Also, we always think of males working there, but I would bet they’re not above using the tactics found in this piece. Let me know what you think.

Car | Last resort | Alarm

Connor Lightfoot’s parents had said it a million times. He’d been warned.  Don’t go to bars alone.  Don’t accept drinks from people you don’t know.  Always have a buddy.  His parents were a part of the pet liberation movement.  They loathed the WRU.  Connor was raised to be wary of the Goliath corporation.  He’d heard all the horror stories.  He’d met pets that had been freed.  He’d heard their harrowing stories of what happened in training. 

He knew.  He knew to be careful. It’s why he preferred the bars on the Reservation. The WRU weren’t allowed to operate there, not legally at least.

Connor was two years into his college degree when his parents, being who they were, had to go into hiding from the WRU and the authorities.  Connor knew they couldn’t contact him and he couldn’t contact them.  But he also knew it wouldn’t be forever.  Just for now.  They said they’d be in touch but that it would be secret.  He’d accepted it. 

He understood how important their work was to them.  And he knew they loved him.  They had done what they did so that his world would be better.  They hadn’t wanted to go into hiding.  It had been a last resort to avoid prison or being collared themselves. 

Connor had gone on with his studies and pursuits.  They had nothing on him.  He wasn’t involved.  It had been over six months since he’d heard from them. Wherever they were, they were well hidden.

He and his buddies had gone to one of the Reservation bars for a break from their difficult courses.  Connor rubbed his temples.  His law classes were stressful and he just needed to unwind.  He would have danced with one of the two girls that were currently on the dance floor with his buddies, but they hadn’t asked him.  And he was so tired, that he was not even sure he’d have been that into it. 

The bar tender handed him a drink.  He looked up at the man and the bar tender motioned to the girl at the end of the bar. 

“Thanks, but no thanks.  I don’t take drinks from strangers,“ he said, waving and smiling at the woman.  His parents’ faces flashed before his eyes and all their warnings. 

The girl approached him and smiled.  “What are you doing, pretty boy, all by your lonesome over here?”  She smiled up at him through her batting eyelashes, looking him over, taking in his straight black hair, his black eyes and ruddy Native American complexion.  “You’re cute.”  She winked at him.  “Wanna, dance?”

Connor was taken a back.  She was cute too.  He let her lead him out to the dance floor, on the opposite side from his friends.  They spun and turned and twirled around the dance floor.  Where were his friends anyway?

She spun them over near the rear exit and slipped her arms up around his neck.  There was a sharp prick on the back of his neck where her hands rested. 

“Ouch.” 

“Oops, sorry.  I have a loose prong on my ring.  I really should get that looked at.  I need to find a good jeweler.  Do you know one?  My daddy always said he didn’t trust jewelers…”

She prattled on and the world seemed to tilt and grow hazy.  She tugged him toward the dark rear exit.  He stumbled after her.  And then there were others there.  Guys.  Big guys, all in black.  And he was falling against one of them.

“Look at the little rebel liberation spawn.  He’s going to be beautiful in a collar.  Wait until his parents find out.”

“Wha-?  No… No collar.  Won’t sign an’th’ng,” Connor slurred.  Alarm bells were going off in the back of his head, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about them. 

A white van pulled up and Connor was dragged, half stumbling to the van.  He should be scared.  This wasn’t right.  Wasn’t right.  Run Connor!  Run! he tried to tell himself, but he couldn’t.  He was shoved to the floor of the van and his wrists were pulled behind him.

“N’…” He tried to slur.  Thick plastic zip ties were fastened around his wrists and pulled tight.  Connor grunted from the pain.  They hauled him into the van and several other people got in.  Connor’s vision swirled as he sort of recognized the girl he’d been dancing with, and the two girls that had pulled his friends away from him to dance.  He blinked trying to focus. 

The zip ties were secured around his ankles and Connor whimpered.  There was something so very wrong happening.  Someone grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back.  Hands squeezed his jaw open and a bit was forced between his teeth before a thick canvas muzzle was fastened over his face. 

Connor moaned helplessly.  He felt the vehicle moving underneath him as they took a corner fast.  When had they even started moving?

He always got carsick when he rode in the back seat.  So, laying bound, gagged, and drugged halfway to fairyland didn’t seem to be helping.  His stomach revolted at the motion and the close proximity of the air from the muzzle.  Connor had to fight to keep from vomiting.  Some voice in the back of his head told him that would be bad, and he should avoid it at all costs. 

Still holding his hair, to keep his head up, Connor choked out a sob of terror as a black collar was fastened around his throat. 

They dropped his head to the floor, and someone kicked his ribs.  Connor groaned. 

“Exactly as you should be, liberation scum.”  He didn’t know who said it, it didn’t matter. 

Connor’s eyes rolled in his head as he turned his cheek to the floor of the van, the one cool surface he could find. 

Connor never fully passed out.  He couldn’t focus very well, couldn’t move, and couldn’t speak.  But he was awake.  He was awake for the hours long van ride to whatever facility they were taking him.  He was awake as they taunted him and his parents for their beliefs.  He was awake as he slowly began to really process what was happening.  He was awake as he realized that despite all the warnings, all the precautions, he’d still been snatched by the fucking WRU. 

He’d seen and heard enough to know what was coming.  He knew what they were going to do to him.  Would they erase him?  They weren’t supposed to, not anymore, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.  They weren’t supposed to fucking kidnap people either. 

When the van pulled to a stop and he was dragged out, he was shoved to his knees in front of someone with a black handler’s uniform on.  The man took his picture and smiled at him. 

“Just wait until mommy and daddy find out.  It’ll bring their liberation asses out of hiding for sure.  And in the meantime…” he pulled out a small rectangular remote and pressed the button.

Connor’s back arch and he screamed as electricity rippled through his body.  He slumped to the floor after a few second, tremors still zinging through him as he glared up at the handler.

“You get a new career path.  You’re rather pretty, college boy, so I’m sure there will be plenty of buyers lined up once you’re trained.  Personally, I hope you resist at every stage so we can train every bit of defiance out of you.  Serve you and your bastard family right.”

He pressed the button again and this time didn’t stop.  Connor screamed his throat raw and eventually passed out from a lack of oxygen.  He hadn’t been able to pull in a breath. 

When he awoke, he was in his greatest nightmare.  The thing he’d spent years learning how to avoid and the thing he saw in his nightmares that would leave him lying awake in bed too scared to shut his eyes again for fear the horrible dream would start up again. 

He was stripped down to a pair of gray shorts, hands and feet chained to a bolt in the floor, still collared and muzzled, in a completely white room with blindingly bright white lights. 

Sorry for the lack of art, my motivations been on and off, and I’ve been focusing some on Instagram.

Anyway, here’s a doodle dump from the last few weeks. If I’ve already posted a piece of art in this previously, stfu no I didnt-

lesbonyms

Im not a brony but I couldnt stop myself from getting this pony.

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One more new adopt. I can’t stop.

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Two of my new Adopts ❤️

Awww look at this cutie I won in an art auction! I dont have a name for her, but she’s too cute ❤️

deredereforyandere:

hi everyone ^3^ my name is timberly but you guys can call me timberrrr hehe

me when it’s cold: haha this really shivers my me’s! hehee