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Haven't posted in a while so here is one of my school projects.

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Extremely true

I feel this in my soul

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Soldier Opens an Abortion Clinic

Soldier & Medic belong to Valve

Butch McTurtle, Devin McDumpy, Marge McKaren and Lard McCoup belong to me

Disclaimer: thiscomicstripwascreatedforentertainmentpurposeonlyandtotallyisn'tadvocatingforviolenceagainstreallifepeopleandwhatevernomatterhowmuchyoufeeltheymightdeserveitanyresemblancetoreal-lifepeopleistotallynothingbutafunnylittlecoincidence

With that said, please carry on, Soldier.

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I just can't help myself *shrugs*

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I always thought that people who were together just liked each other as friends, but with benefits? Like you know, you're friends but you add on the kissing and stuff. I didn't think there was an emotional difference between them.

And now I'm aroace

my fellow queers, if i ask nicely, will you reblog and put in the tags a thing younger you did that looking back was obviously fruity? I will even go first, I kept getting jealous at the male love interest in any media i consumed

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I think of myself like this bluish pale grey.

Like, blue-gray fog in the forest mountains.

I’m curious. what color(s) do you associate yourself with 

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First study copy

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Some quick warm-up sketches from the meet the team videos

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My man engi,

Referenced from Pinterest

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The Darkness Behind The Corner

There is something strange in the way the alleyway sways,

Its wry corners twists and turns. Maybe it's the bitterness.

Sometimes I wish with my steps light, once I turn,

you'll wait there.

With a sly smile and gentle touch, lead me through the dark.

The feel of your breath, no longer cold.

But I'll never turn that corner. And you'll never wait for me. Thats just the way of life. The way of our path.

Feedback appreciated

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The Raven Soul

Ravens, the messengers of life, whose feathers are made of light.

They shine under the sun, rainbow dancing in their quill. And yet fade within the dark. Merging between the stark of death and the charred bits of life.

Their claws rattle like bones, eyes shine, and beak rasp. Their calls cue to the ends of days, beginnings of nights. Below the stars, they sit. Bathing in the moonlight silent of their songs. Waiting for the light to come, to sing once more.

In the oak leaves the eyes of a Raven glint, shimmer of stars between his wings. Within the gray of night, he stays, still like mist. Eyes linger on those in the ground, those waiting on the other side. Raven songs carry the weight of life, blame, and fight.

What more is there for him to carry, human guilt and worry. Even with his beauty within life, the human fault shortens his wings. Tearing the gift away, the raven falls between stones and creeks. His feathers scorch, beak cracks.

He sings his last songs, breath short and cold. With no more songs to chant, he lays down within the bones, waiting for his brothers to come. He awaits the night, soul light and bright.

But no one is to come, no one is to go, within the creek no ravens shall follow. The loneliness grows, life fades. Who is to care of one raven soul? So there his body lays, covered in stones and mud, forgotten by his own, broken by sorrow.

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One of a few of my atelier works. A study

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A sketch of a new OC I did in the atelier today,

Probably will name her Grace.

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Have this one shot I wrote at 2 am when my sleep deprived mind decided it's a good time to gift me with a good idea. So I kind of just wrote whatever. The last dialog is lazy and simple but I'm honestly I'm too tired to finish this. Enjoy this I got nowhere to post it so yeah.

(Psst I can post it on my AO3 account but I'm laying low on there cause I'm too lazy to finish my 12 unfished fics :D)

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The bird's neck twists and curves around, its spine snaps with a crack. The wings flutter limp falling and spreading open like a flower. Feathers hang lifelessly. Its black eyes are glazed no longer shimmering. Just like that dead bird in a caged life comes to a stop.

Just like bird feathers floating on water, clothes stick to his frame like wet fur, he limply glides along the surface of the water. Curls stuck to his forehead and eyes closed. A raven circles above him, it glides down and lands on top of his chest. The creatures lightweight is nothing compared to his heavy body. His heart thumps loudly. The raven croaks and rasps.

Will gasps awake,  his hand snaps after the raven. Air slips through his fingers. The horizon is empty with the stars hanging up like fireflies. Will feels shallow and slimy rocks beneath himself. His eyes locked upon the night sky. It's beautiful. He groans and wails as the pain comes back. His ribs are burning like a forest fire. The warmth melts and consumes him from the inside out. Like lava spreading through his veins.

He is no longer human, but a God made of wrath and anger. The fierce wings upon his back burn a hole beneath him. Like a phoenix rising from its ashes a new God is born. A new life.

Wills breaths even out. Each inhales is like a match being lit beneath his skin. Fire burning anew devouring the last bits and pieces of his old self. The molten old parts join and create something new, powerful. The transformation is complete. A new vessel for a God is built.

Slowly Will rolls on his side carefully letting the seawater suppress the fire inside his ribcage. It helps only on the surface level. He sighs and with every last breath in his body, he screams.

„Hannibal!"

His voice is hoarse. Raw. It's rasping and scratches like a rock against rock. Will painful wails. A grieving animal using its last breaths. A wounded stag living out its last seconds grasping upon the precious spark of life. Will frantically holds close the last sizzling bits of strength he has. His rib cage feels burning hot. It's melting his insides slowly and painfully, but it's not the worst.

The worst is the utter and complete feeling of loneliness and desperation. The painful memories he holds so close and so tight in his palms that Will fears he might destroy them. He desperately holds them close hoping for a change. Hoping for Hannibal to come and help him, to put out the melting fire he has started.

Will screams the name again, and again, and again. All he is met with is the silence of the stars. The moon shines and shimmers bring casting Wills bloodied body in rays of silver. The color covers his body drowning him in it. There is blood, but not crimson, black. Just like the dragons. The awful smell of sea salt brings Will back to reality.

The last strings of his voice spill out, they slowly slide off his tongue. The fire finally reaches his throat and burns it to ash.

Will allows his head to rest against the cold rocks letting the tip of his nose dip under the cold water.

He closes his eyes again and falls into the hole of ash he created. The fiery wings on his back go out leaving nothing but destruction behind. Will breaths slowly as the sizzling flame of strength finally goes out leaving black and cold coal behind. His body goes limp again and the seawater reclaims his body.

The seas waves softly splash against his face, night breeze gently dishevels his wet hair. The strands of deep almond-colored curls are stuck on his forehead. Will lets out a sigh of exhaustion before sinking into the darkness of his eyelids.

He falls deep deep deep down. His consciousness plummets through a sea of memories. They feel distant like his body is inside a bubble. Will reaches his hand through the darkness. It slips between his fingers.

A pair of grounding cold hands grasp his shoulder. It's a tight grip of desperation. „Will!”

It's Hannibals voice. His hoarse hands melt into his skin. Their bodies start to fuse with each other. This is their becoming. Warmness spreads like wildfire through his chest. It burns. „Will!”

Another raspy tone reaches his ears. Will is so tired. He leans back into Hannibal's arms letting himself fall backward. The world turns and twists. His stomach does a backflip. His whole brain feels like it has been tossed in a drier.

Will gasps awake his ribs even sorer than before. With the new breath of life also come nausea. He bends over his side just in time to throw up. His body shakes and spasms like a dying animal's corpse.

„Oh, Will...”

Gasping Will draws in a deep breath, his ribs ache and burn. A pair of hands slide across his shoulder blades up this shoulders. They are cold as ice, despite that Wills skin burns off of his body like a lit of a match. He's a burning match slowly destroying itself. The wood of his body burns and scorches. The fire God which has risen from ash, burning with life once more stuck in the circle of self-destruction and renewal.

„Breathe, deep breaths mylimasis“ It's Hannibals voice speaking in a low soothing tone. His hands slide up and down Wills back creating a false sense of security. Will shakes as he tries to take deep breaths, his lungs rattle with seawater. He throws up once more this time his body is held up by Hannibal's hands.

„Hannibal”  Will rasps. His eyes are glazed over half-lidded with exhaustion. Hannibal holds Will close to his chest as he softly rocks them both back and forth. „I'm here Will, I'm here, you are going to be fine”

„You're going to be alright, I'll make sure of it” Hannibal coaxes more running one of his hands through Will's unruly and utterly drenched curls. They stick to the man's forehead and skull. Moon shines above casting the pair in silver light. Stars stare down shimmering lightly and the sea softly splashes against rocks. „You can die by my hand only. No one elses. Not even your own.”

Will rasps out a laugh letting his hand fall on top of Hannibal's thigh.  „I think you need some therapy doctor Lecter” he smiles resting the back of his head against Hannibal's shoulder. At that moment they simply breathe. The night air is crisp with salt.

They breathe in unison, in that simple moment Will could feel his heartbeat in sync with Hannibals. He lets go of his conscious surrounding to the darkness of the night. His body falls through the rocks of the beach. He floats atop of reality like feathers on water.

Will slips in and out of reality in the following hours. He registers Hannibal loading his limp body in a car seat. Then they're on the road driving past forests and cliffsides. The sun slowly climbs over the horizon shining annoyingly bright. Stars had long disappeared from the sky. Will groans as he wakes up once more this time more conscious than before.

„Hannibal?“

„Yes Will?”

„Where are we going?”

„A new safe house before we leave the country.”

„You should sleep Will, your body has been damaged greatly both physically and emotionally”

„You got shot in the stomach. Shouldn't you be resting?”

„It seems that the dragon had quite the aim, the bullet missed all organs, a clean shot through”

„Even if, you need sleep too”

„ I can function at least two days in a row without sleep, leftover experience from my job as an ER surgeon.”

„Of course.”

„Once we arrive I will wake you and tend to your injuries. The first aid in the car isn't much.”

„Wait, who's car even is this? This isn't the police car we arrived in”

„Yes, it's a different one. The police car had a tracker. Fortunately for us, a caring man gifted it to me.”

„Hes in the trunk isn't he”

„Yes.”

„Great. One more thing to deal with“

„I am fairly sure it won't be as difficult to make sure no one finds the body.”

„I rather not know how you'll achieve that even though I presume one way you'll take.“

„What would you like for dinner, Will?”

Ps-

I hope it was readable at least. Thanks

· Rae

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Some doodles I did. Sunrise is now my comfort character. I don't know how, he just is. If you excuse me now gentlemen ladies and no binary pals, its the perfect time to write 20k comfort Fic with him.

Blessed be

-Rae