Nightmare Galleon 

i’m not so sure if this is done yet…im sure ill flip out over something and come back to it, but fuck it, HERE YA GO TIREDOFHIDINGUNDERBEDS :D happy birthday and Merry Christmas! this is only one part to the series of images ill be painting up, but im quite excited. 

seriously, since i read MiM’s book all i could think of was how much i wanted to paint the Nightmare Galleon’s attack on the Moon Clipper. so it’s a work in progress -__- but so far enjoy ^^

Kieran and Hallow -by- Tiredofhidingunderbeds

linework and color -by- Me 

tried to go for a sort of portrait look and just went overboard with the overlay XD thank you Tired for taking the time to draw this and letting me do the color and linework o//o i hope you dont mind the little changes i made, and i tried to keep it as close to the original linework as i could. 

hope you like it ^^

Staggering Home

Kieran tore his eyes away from the moon, the bitterness of his words still layering his tongue. the rage continued to boil in his gut, flushing hot shivers under his skin as his body tried to heal. the anger fueled his recovery, but his arm just wasn’t keeping up. hesitantly, the boy looked down at his severed arm. he bit his lip, stomach clenching at the sight of nothing below his elbow besides the writhing inky blackness tangling out from his open limb. a hissing intake of breath passed his lips as his hand gingerly prodded at the severed opening. his fingers slipped through the black twisting shadows coming from under his skin and touched the regenerating muscle beneath. that awakened the pain and Kieran lurched forward, his stomach nearly flipping up his throat. he briefly retched as the pain swelled and dully subsided. he heard a heavy plotting noise and looked down at the cement of the quad. his dark blood was slipping through the mending darkness and starting a little pool next to his foot.

“Great..” he muttered, clenching his teeth as he took a step forward. “Just fucking terrific..” his legs wobbled from the shock of the battle. it hadn’t yet fully registered that he’d survived an encounter with one of his father’s greatest enemies. he could have easily been killed. but what the boy did focus on was that he needed to get to one of his parents’ homes. he looked to the sky, doubtful he could fly in this state. deciding to give it a try, the teen gently kicked off into the air. he hovered only for a moment before his powers evaporated, his body too weak to sustain them. he fell to the ground, barely catching himself on his feet. an aggravated growl escaped his lips as his severed arm was jarred from the impact. he clung to what remained of the arm, hearing his blood plot down to the ground again. soft drippings reminding him that his healing was failing fast. 

Flying was clearly out of the question, and he had to fly to get to his mother’s portal to her realm. he couldn’t simply reach it through the shadows, and he could never walk to the Great Oak. he’d never make it. there was only one other option, and his glinting gaze turned to the deepening shadows of the quad. a spent half smirk crossed his face as he staggered to the shadows. oh how his father was going to love this. he could only imagine his mother’s reaction when she’d find out. his stomach twisted with dread as he slipped into the darkness, feeling the path through the lightless passage. hopefully his mother wouldn’t get herself in trouble. with Nightlight labeling her as a traitor to the Moon she was in danger. what if she was out hunting and he found her? Kieran grit his teeth as he pushed through the shadows, shoving the worry from his mind. no use in fearing that. he would do all he could to warn her, and going to his father’s was his best option. 

At last he emerged from the shadows, half falling out onto one of the bridges passing through his father’s darkened palace. he fell to his knees, now breathless and drained as he clutched his arm above the elbow. the black tendrils trying to make up his missing arm were becoming less active in their writhing, and more blood was spattering to the floor. traveling through the shadows had taken it’s tole on the boy and he was now shaking. 

“Dad?” he asked, barely needing to raise his voice. he knew his father didn’t need a call to know he was there.