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Looking For More Weirdness In Your Life, Well The Search Is Over


Nimra
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My idea pond has dried up lately, so i decided to do what i always do to get the water flowing again, and buy art supplies!!!

It sort of worked, not sure i love them but their something.

ink eye bone.jpg

dead in the dirt.jpg

shadow eye.jpg

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6 hours ago, minespatch said:

Uh... Are those pointy teeth on Willow due to nightmare fuel?

Sort of yeah let me explain everybody has a shadow skin, which is their most corrupt form. But if Maxwell is any indication it is posible to become even more corrupt, more monster like (picture shown below). My head canon is that usal the monster like appearance would happen when on the thrown, but because the gang have been in the world so long, it's starting to happen naturally very slowly over time. High saniy slows the process down, low sanity speeds the process up so things like; nightmare fuel, evil flowers/ petals and the shadow manipulator are to blame as you said.

In the picture above nightmare fuel was indeed the trigger, to the partial transformation you see (this is why the sharp teeth and floating). Willow had been stealing it from Wilson's tent and burning it, as it gives off a pretty flame. But don't worry she was subdued by Wolfgang before doing too much damage, and given a whole pile of flower crowns and the glommer to help carm her down.

The second picture is a drawing of what i think a full transformation might look like, a sort of fire demon thing her cloths are a mix of regular and shadow. Think i might draw some more monster forms as this was fun.

Hope this helps, sorry for my silly headcanons.

 

.jpg

Willow's deamond form.jpg

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Well i wrote a little story about Wilson kind of nervous about posting, it's been such a long time since i've shown other people my writing. I'll apologize now for spelling and punctuation, hope you like it anyway. (i also drew some art for it)

 

Snow falls to the ground fluffy and crisp, the sun hitting it makes it sparkle as if thousands of tiny diamonds cover the ground. A relaxing silence fills the clearing, interjected only by the rustle of animals and the squawk of birds. They fluff their feathers trying to keep the cold out, a large group of them huddling on the ground, picking at some tufts of grass sticking out from underneath the snow.

A small noise makes the birds look up. It gets louder and louder, suddenly a man burst in to the clearing the birds scatter shrieking as they fly in to the clouds above. Cold sweat is pouring off the man's head, breath short and sharp, his lungs burn with cold. Every muscle in his body is screaming at him to take a break, but he can't. All he needs to do is make it home, to the fire. He wishes he'd taken more supply's, that he hadn't been so damn cocky. The man is shivering uncontrollably, and has lost feeling in his hands. He glances down thinking of how quickly frostbite can set in, they were turning a blue colour, and become exceedingly hard to bend or move. He pushes the horrible thoughts away, and concentrates on running.

He can see his camp, his fire pit just a little fu........... but before he could even finish his though, his foot caught on something sending him flying in to the snow. He lay half his vision in darkness; the other half was coming in and out of focus. All his body burned with the cold, his brain was yelling at him to get up but his body was no longer listening, it had given up and shut down. He wasn't even angry, a strange feeling of happiness washed over him; no more freezing nights or boiling days, no more terrifying monsters or angry bees, no more starving or insanity, no more, of anything. he could just give up and finale go to sleep, but this time hopefully, he won't have to wake up……

NO! He couldn't think like that, he is not a failure, he’s not. The man begins to pull his body towards the fire, his hands completely blue at this point. He fumbles in his pocket getting a lighter out, he reaches to get the fire started but it wouldn't light, he keeps trying but to no prevail. he starts to whisper please, please light. The man’s arm slowly begins to lower to the ground, the lighting attempts becoming further apart. His vision stops coming back in to focus and just stays blurry, his arm falls back in to the snow letting go of the lighter.

A tall man stands a little way off, the wind making his tailcoats wave around, and pushing the hair from his face. He stands just out of sight of the shorter man, a smile spreads across his face showing off sharp white teeth, and in a voice smaller than a whisper he said.

GAME OVER.

fire out.jpg

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