#I wish I had more good art of Spite

[softcryz]

Hi it's been a while since I posted anything related to Spite I need to fix that [+, of course, the dogs]

[ VCYU belongs to @zarithial -- first image, right ]

[cal-flakes]

sorry for spamming your acc i’ve js been obsessed with your fics!! i was thinking like reader only just getting used to Rafe spoiling her and then overhearing people call her like a gold digger and going back to not wanting him to spend as much as a cent on her and crying that people think of her that way and him comforting her and assuring her he WANTS to spend his money on her and takes her on a shopping spree the next day or something? idek, ignore this if you don’t like it ❤️

╰┈➤ spoil you

warnings: cursing, threats (sort of)

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hot tears trickled down her flushed face as her hands struggled, furiously shoving the lavish materials back into their rightful bags. ‘she’s just using him’ — the words cut and nipped at her as they did laps in her mind, spitefully. she couldn’t see the jealousy in those same words through teary eyes, she almost believed them. what am i doing? she thought.

exhaling deeply, she sat back against her bed, her fingers threading through the plush carpet as her eyes scanned the shopping bags before her. dollars upon dollars lay before her, scattered around her bedroom, hidden by the paper wearing all of the expensive names. dior, chanel, versace and so on. her hands moved to squeeze and pinch at her own skin, desperately wishing to be out of it. she felt disgusting, how could she let such a sweet boy do this for her? how could such a shallow girl wear such materials?

her racing thoughts were quickly distracted by the heavy footsteps on the stairs, coming to a stop outside her bedroom door.

“y/n? baby? you ready to go?” the voice asked so calmly, blissfully unaware of the mess on the other side. through sniffles, y/n quickly wiped away the remaining tears. “i—um, i don’t think i want to go..” she muttered, just loud enough for a frown to pull at his features.

he tilted his head, unbeknownst to her as he moved to the handle, working quickly to shove the door open. rafe’s mouth fell agape as he rushed towards her frame, curled up on the floor, tear marks painting the beautiful dress he’d requested she wore to their date that day.

“sweetheart, what’s wrong? did someone upset you?” he cooed, yet the gruff, threatening undertone didn’t go unnoticed. shaking her head, she relaxed into his touch as he slotted himself next to her, pulling her head into his sweater clad chest. “then why are you crying baby?”

catching her breath, her eyes moved to the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes as if she’d burst into tears once again. “do you— do you think i’m using you?” y/n whimpered, blinking away any tears threatening to spill. rafe’s eyebrows knit together as he craned his neck to look down at her, all sorts of questions filling his mind.

“my sweet girl— what are you talking about? ‘course i don’t” he soothed, reaching a steady hand to cup her cheek. “why would you say that?”

—

after a good, long hour of more tears and an abundance of reassurance, rafe had finally managed to calm the flow of tears seeping through his sweater, through the art of forehead kisses and soft words.

“baby, what have i told you about listening to such spiteful words? huh? you are in no way a brat, or using me, or shallow, m’kay?” he sighed, pulling his lips into a thin line. “i buy you these things—“ gesturing to the mountains of bags and teddy bears, “because i want the absolute best for you, i want you to feel good, i want you to feel so unbelievably adored you don’t know what to do with yourself, alright?”

“but— but i can’t do the same for you rafey, i want to, i want to buy you things too! but i can’t..” she frowned, her bottom lip wobbling as she spoke. “you do enough y/n, you don’t need to buy me things, the feeling of you lying on me at night is enough, the smile on your face when i walk through that door— is more than enough”

sighing contently, y/n nodded as she melted further into him— if that was possible.

“you gonna cheer up now? let me take you out?” he chuckled, twirling a slender hand around a couple strands of her now tangled hair. “mhm”

—

“wait! your walking too fast rafe!” y/n pouted, drawing a hearty chuckle from him as he came to an exaggerated halt. holding out his arm for her, he waited as she skipped along the concrete, giggling profusely as she quickly linked her arm with his. “where to first?” he asked, the infamous smirk once again plastered on his face.

y/n’s face scrunched as she thought hard about this question, her hand— which was tightly wrapped around his forearm, coming to her attention. “well, i do need my nails repainted, they’re so grown out now!” she chirped, beaming up at him hopefully.

chuckling, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before leading her through the streets. “little brat..” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. “hey!” she yelped, swatting his chest. “that’s not funny!”

“only teasing sweetheart, what colour were you thinkin’?”

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[aklaustaleteller]

On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really. Word Count - 1.4k

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour. 

[sheluvslani]

Good Luck, Babe!

Pairing: Mabel x fem!reader

Warnings: angsty, implied hookup, toxic marriage with Charlie, Mabel going back to r because she misses them

A/n: havenʻt written in forever omg, also I never watched finestkind and pretty much looked up the summary on wikipedia so… yeah donʻt get mad at me if i made shit up

Being a drug dealer wasnʻt Mabelʻs first option. An easy one, sure. But not her ideal one.

She always wanted to be an artist, her teachers in high school told her sheʻd go far. She applied for art school, but couldnʻt get in due to the amount of applicants. Never would anyone believe she was in this position now. She would drive to sketchy places, earning her a couple scratches and a couple bruises, but damn, the money was worth it.

When she met you, god was she the happiest sheʻd ever been. She still sold drugs on the side to make extra cash, but took a job at a bar downtown for her primary income, just to make you happy. The both of you even rented an apartment and moved in together, the relationship moved quite quickly but she didnʻt mind because she knew you were the one.

After what seemed like the best 6 months of your life, you noticed Mabelʻs behavior had started to change. She was much more violent than before. She would yell, pick fights for a reason as small as not picking up a sock you dropped on the floor the day before. It honestly made you rethink your entire relationship with her. She had admitted that she didnʻt want a relationship anymore, that she wasnʻt going to commit to someone she had 0 chemistry with, not knowing the impact of her words on you. You didnʻt call it off though, being scared at the thought of being with somebody else that wasnʻt her.

One night, there was a huge fight at the bar. She tried to break it up but ended up with a bloody nose and a black eye. She came home that night with an ice pack pressed to the side of her face. When she opened the door, she expected to see you there but was met with the realization that you had left.

All your stuff was packed up. Your clothes that she often wore, your jewelry that she thought looked so amazing on you, your scent that reminded her of you that once filled the space was gone. Replaced with the stench of stale coffee from a pot that she forgot to empty out this morning. The whole apartment felt so empty compared to when you were there, filling the space with the life that Mabel wished for ever since she was little.

That was over a year ago.

Since then, Mabel quit her job and started selling drugs again out of spite. She was miserable without you. She tried to forget you, she really did. She tried filling the hole you left in her with alcohol, but the warmth in her chest was nothing to the warmth she felt when she was with you.

But thatʻs also when she met Charlie, an older guy that somehow took an early interest in her when he came down to Massachusetts to pay a visit to his older brother. She met him in the bar, eventually taking him back to her place and hooking up with him. Both of them were drunk, neither knew any better. He was a great guy, sure. But nothing compared to you

But Charlie eventually fell in love with Mabel. And since Mabel knew she couldnʻt win you back because of what she did, she gave in. They got married and he moved into her apartment.

She would come home at night to Charlie passed out on the couch, beer bottles scattered on the coffee table in front of him, half-smoked cigarettes laying in dirty ashtray, and the TV on to some boring fishing program. She hated that every night she would have to clean up after him. You never did that, she thought. It was always the small things that you did that pestered her, and she wished she could take it all back.

Was this her life now, she thought. Cleaning up after some drunk, disgusting man-baby every night? Doing all the housework as he gets to sit down and watch TV all day without a care in the world?

That night, she laid down on her back, staring up at the ceiling with Charlie sound asleep next to her. Her mind was plagued with thoughts of you and what the both of you couldʻve been. Would you two be married? Moved to a different state? Have kids? God, she missed you.

She sat up, head in her hands as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She wished she could take it all back. Every argument, every time she made you feel like shit, every time she said something that she shouldnʻt have. You were perfect, too good for her, in fact. She quietly wiped her tears away, her eyes becoming red and puffy.

She looked down at Charlieʻs sleeping form, regret washing over her face. She was nothing more than his wife. She carefully got up out of her bed and grabbed her phone, dialing your number that sheʻd memorized all those years ago.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in your bedroom painting your nails and watching a rerun of Friends as a vanilla candle burned on your bedside table next to you, causing a warm glow on your features.

Your ringtone on your phone started going off, so you reached over and grabbed it, answering the unknown number.

“Hello?” You spoke into the speaker as you rested the phone between your head and shoulder.

A quiet voice replied on the other line, one that you knew all too well. “Hey…” She mumbled. “I messed up…”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mabel was quick to your doorstep soon after, ringing the doorbell as she nervously waited on the welcome mat, playing with the wedding ring on her finger before slipping it off and putting it inside her pocket.

You answered the door after a while, your soft gaze that she missed so much meeting her own as you stood in front of her.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you let her in. “You know I hate to say it… But I told you so.” But before she could call you out on your antics, your lips met hers, warm and inviting as she melted into your embrace.

[solitary-traveler]

A Wanderer's Prayer

It was like staring at a mirror and confronting a version of himself that he detested with every fiber of his being. In other words, he sees his past in you and wishes he could help.

Wanderer x Gn!Reader

Notes: Hiii, so this is inspired by a video I saw on tiktok by @dellabelle99. It had me sobbing for like 5 minutes. I swear I want to give him a hug so badly-

Art: @Coco_nikio (X)

Warning: Angst? (again yes), let's use all collectively give him a hug

Blue.

The sky was dark blue.

Settled on the ground, the tall patch of grass served as a mattress for the tired Wanderer. The days filled with deafening noises and taxing chores blur into a hazy memory, whisked away by the remaining orange glows of sunlight. He rests his eyes as the veil of silence nestles against him once more. Nightfall never failed to seclude him from everything inconvenient, in the best way possible. 

When he opened his eyes, the flickering gleam streamed onto his face, as a faint evocation pulsated through his thoughts. 

“The moon is beautiful isn't it?”

He recalled your words from a previous night, a night that continuously haunts him. The moon had cast a soft glimmer on your face, uplifting your features and framing that cheeky grin you have plastered on your annoying face. It was almost ridiculous how all he could do was stare and swallow the lump of words he’d been itching to say. In spite of the whirling chaos in his chest, he could only mutter a soft “I know”. 

“Just like you.”

He sighed, shaking his head. Nothing good comes out of reminiscing about that event. Just thinking about it made his cheeks flush. An utterly, absurd reaction. Maybe there’s a malfunction somewhere in his system?

A green pulse of light darted across his vision, eyes widening as his attention snapped to it. Much to his surprise, a dendro crystafly perched on his indigo hair. He raises a hand to wave it away, but your saccharine voice tugged on his wrists like a pair of handcuffs.

“I feel like my skin is on fire”

Wanderer paused. He caught a glimpse of the glowing rock above him for the second time, adorned by a tiny flitter of lights that washed the area with a green flicker, before a set of images burned across his mind. 

A crystafly had landed on you before too. The luster reflection of the moon strikes your face with such delicacy—the fluttering wings akin to a blooming flower tucked behind your ear—yet your features showed disagreement. The glint illuminated a new set of marks on your pale skin and the heavy bags under your pretty eyes. You looked pathetic.

“I wish I’d never been born at all”

He dislikes how his stomach lurched at your words. It was like staring at a mirror and confronting a version of himself that he detested with every fiber of his being. The tightness of his chest loitered, an impending reminder of the past etched in stone, unperturbed for all eternity.

He longed to smash that visage and pummel it until even ashes were forced out of existence. He wanted to break you, the shadow who’s lagging behind him and striding down his path. To impale every shred of innocence you have left back to your pounding heart.

But how could he offer you any assistance when he could not liberate his own from the repulsive tethers that bite onto his skin and refuse to let go?

A frustrated yelp escaped from his  throat. It was fucking annoying. The reality of his helplessness was slowly sinking in. Was that it? Was there nothing else he could do?

Drenched in desperation, Wanderer exhales to still till his raging thoughts. “To any god that can hear me,” he whispered, his gaze falling on the blatant light that blinked from the black canvas above. “Please offer them your protection.”

His eyes closed. What was he even doing? Praying to the gods as if they’ll fulfill such a foolish request?

“I can’t always spend every waking hour by their side. I can’t always save them if they need help” 

He saw himself dressed in a white kimono, running around the sandy beaches of Yashiori Island. He sees Niwa trailing behind him, out of breath as he catches up with the eccentric wanderer, holding a purple veil in hand. 

He was following him again.

“No matter what happens…”

“May they never lose,” his voice cracked. “May they never falter”

At that moment, his chest blazed with a crushing weight. Why did these words hurt so much?

“No matter how many times they cry.”

“You promised me we could be family!”

“No matter how many times they fall.”

“No! Anything but the gnosis!”

“May they have the strength to stand again.”

So that’s how it is. 

“May all the people he meets be kind and warm.”

“If all I wanted to do was use you, then I’d be no different from The Doctor.”

“I hear he has some pretty interesting ideas… Gotta have a chat with him sometime!” 

“Please protect them.”

He blinked. He gets it now. His prayer mirrored the words he’d been dying to hear. 

A prayer from one broken person to another.

[mana-sputachu]

Artshield

I was going to flop in bed and try to draw from there, but the sudden swarm of AI shit on another of my accounts fueled me with spite, so I'm writing this post NOW rather than tomorrow when I'll be more awake.

If you can't run Glaze/Nightshade because of the insane specs required for it, give a try to Artshield.

It's a web-based app that will let you load all the pics you want and protect them with a big, invisible watermark all over it. It also has a checker option to use after you've shielded your art, to be sure it worked.

Now, I'm terrible with math so I can't explain how it exactly work, but here's the explanation on their blog. If someone who's more math-savvy than me wants to add a simpler explanation to this post, please do!

While it can't poison AIs like Nightshade does, it's still a good solution if you can't run Glaze/Nightshade on your pc... like many of us, really. As I wrote on another post about Glaze, I have a pretty decent gaming pc that, while not being like high-end or anything (my GPU is a RTX 3060), suits my needs perfectly and runs all the games I'm interested in (Tekken 8's demo being the most recent thing).

Yet, in order to try Nightshade, I had to close all the apps I had running in the background, which were, in that moment, Opera and Discord. Only when I shut them down, it finally started. 10 minutes for the mid setting and the result was awful.

I tried WebGlaze (not Cara yet), and the results were also awful, given you can't control the strenght of the glazing much.

I understand it might be hard to develop this kind of technology, but I wish they would meet us halfway since the majority of people use old machines, laptops (a friend of mine tried running Glaze on hers and the fans started spinning like it was ready to fly) or even just tablets and phones, so those specs are hard to meet.

That's why I want to share Artshield, as a solution for those of you who can't run Glaze and Nightshade.

Artshield's only big limitation is that it won't work with white backgrounds, so try to add a color layer to your white background before shielding it. Same for B/W images.

Other tips I can suggest for trying to protect your works:

Post at the lowest resolution you can: I go for 72 DPI, keeping bigger sizes and high quality files only for Ko-Fi rewards and clients' files

Add a noise filter: I always do this because I like the paper-like, grainy feel it gives to my art, but I read once it might messes with AI's scrapers. While I don't know if this is still true, it's worth trying it

Don't forget a big visible watermark (aside from the Artshield one)!

Hope this will help other strugglin artists, I never see Artshield suggested around, especially in posts about Glaze and Nightshade, so I decided to write this one.

Go and shield your art!

[fantasygerard2000]

I noticed something off about the WISH "fandom" is that they genuinely don't care about your character unless you're not single, apparently.

Asha is disregarded for being the "true villain" unless she's in a relationship with geneic-tumblr-sexyman-twink-number-1923.

Amaya is treated as a nothing character unless she's just as evil as her husband.

I already wrote at length about Asha's non existent romance numerous times, so I won't repeat what it here. However, it surprisingly applies to Amaya as well.

Just like Asha, most "fans" wanted Amaya to be in a loving relationship with her husband. And unlike Asha, hers actually exist.

Making Amaya co-villains with Magnifico may seem like a fun idea, but like the non-existent Starboy romance, it's very unnecessary.

Amaya is a surprisingly tragic character applicable to those who severed ties with initially good people til they reveal their toxic side.

Magnifico was always the intended main villain. And despite what concept art of this early draft shows, Amaya is treated more like a sidekick than an equal to Magnifico.

Sure, the very little glimpses of the "villain couple" concept we see have the two be adorably evil together, but that's the thing. There's very little official content of them that isn't from just concept art and most of these "villain couple" ideas are from the "fans".

Most of the fan content about the villain couple concept, and by extension most WISH fan content are just that. "Fan Content".

It bothers me that some people are just so spiteful over a film they watched didn't include their tropes and blorbo they like that they made their own takes with said tropes and blorbo even tho said blorbo never existed had they been less spiteful and actually payed attention, resulting in spreading misinformation about a work that's mostly fan made.

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

I love your animatronic toy OC guys so much, they have so much personality to them and their colours are really good (especially umbra)

Thank you! The funny thing about Umbra's design was that while I was developing it about two years ago and had some colors in mind, I described in text what I already came up with to an image generator for fun (shitty unconvincing old kind, vs now where it looks like shit but in a somewhat more convincing way) and it produced something so silly that I made her design better than what I would've settled with out of spite.

More details of my process and anti-AI ranting below the cut, so the examples given won't show up on search results. Google Images is getting polluted too much with slop to begin with.

Let's begin.

In 2022 I was drafting up Umbra's design with mostly concrete details. At this time image generators were newer and much less convincing, and I was a bit less aware of just how unethical they were, so I fed one a text description of what I had drafted for her design out of curiosity. Something along the lines of, "doll of an anthropomorphic owl librarian in glasses, blazer/suit jacket, skirt, corset, high heels, sitting on a bookshelf" and probably a few more terms. Really specific, lengthy prompt.

I try to be open-minded and give new things a shot, but the results were Not Great. Ideally, I'd want to not share the AI pictures at all on-principle, but I feel like it's useful, transparent, and necessary to show them. Both as a means of not hiding anything, but also just to appreciate where the design is at in spite of it.

Outside of this particular collage of Weird Owls, no other pictures on this blog are AI-generated. AI Image Generation is harmful, and I am against its usage.

But hey, two of the generated pictures look close, right? The top left is the closest, and bottom right is second.

That's because they started out worse, and I had to actually erase chunks of them and have the generator fill in the blanks to get anything remotely close to what I wanted. Misshapen limbs, unrecognizable anatomy, fever-dream clothing details, etc. They didn't even have a corset or proper legs until I slapped the generator in the face enough times to make it produce them. I was just using it to photobash, which was such an annoying process, I just went "this is dumb" and stopped. They're literally posed like that because I kept erasing and regnerating their limbs until they looked vaguely in-character. It literally only looks passable thanks to STRANGLING it with human input.

Before I used the image generator, I already drafted her to be night-themed with yellow eyes and something like purple, dark blue, or sky-blue as her main color; the generator making one owl yellow-eyed and purple was a happy coincidence, and the only thing the generative AI "came up with" that I didn't already have in mind or included in the prompt was the light blue shirt, which I did adapt into her cyan shirt and stockings/socks as well. That was a good call. You get One Point, Mr. AI.

...Which still meant that at its absolute best, it was a largely redundant step in the creative process if its contribution was worse than what a randomized palette generator or character creator could come up with.

That's already putting the ethics of it aside, like carbon emissions, data pollution, using artists' and photographers' work without credit or permission, the incentive to plagiarize, flooding sites like deviantart with slop, Willy Wonka Shit, etc etc etc. When people say "you can use AI as a tool though", this ordeal was enough to convince me that it's more trouble than its worth, even in its most ethical usage. I feel gross for having even tried. I wish I knew what sources went into the creation of those Weird Owls. It'd be better for research if the right people could be credited.

Nothing else on this blog is AI-generated or ever will be. The art below is purely my own (2022 vs a few weeks ago)):

Actually drawing Umbra and solidifying her design was far more rewarding than having an image generator vaguely approximate my own ideas. I wanted her to look really special, so I used a black cape and pants, gold highlights and buttons, and blue undertones to make something more distinct. Also, neck floof. Very important. I wanted the head in particular to look distinct and original, going with bold black streaks to really help her look distinguished.

I also have certain inevitable Hydroisms for Fancy characters like her; most apparent in these designs for Chasey and Kaita from even longer ago, which were more of an influence than anything else. (Old art of mine from like 2021, Kaita ref looks wonky but Chasey still holds up nicely):

Most of Umbra's other design elements were already commonly used with established ocs like Kaita, like her shape language, corset, skirt, heels, etc. It was my previous work with Chasey that inspired the use of gold buttons and highlights.

Umbra is also now a bluer shade of purple partly to distance the current design from that ordeal. All things considered, I'll probably make her more indigo next time. I already wanted her to have a wide color range from the get-go (Featured below is, again, purely my art from 2022:)

I may use a different colored shirt and stockings in the future. I like to think she has many different shirts and clothes based on the different stages of the night sky, from dusk to dawn, and the painting I made in the top right there was an exploration of her range in different lighting.

All in all, it's frustrating. I'm proud of her design, but explaining all of this is annoying, because it's technically all relevant to showing how her colors were picked and how the design was made. I still technically have AI to """Thank""", in the way you thank a bad experience for encouraging you to make things better out of spite.

[black-dhalias]

To Belong

Leah Clearwater X Vampire!Reader

It wasn’t supposed to be like this—you were a lover of the arts and prospective ballerina. You were an artist. A performer and perfectionist. A lover, not really a fighter at all. You were graceful and kind, and you were good. You had a million and one dreams, and a future with so many hopes.

And in a flash, you had none of it.

When you felt the venom pound through your veins, you had hoped for death. The flurry of red hair was all you could remember of those last moments, that, and that you were going to be late for your audition.

“Smell this.” You do and pass the short along, the humans scent clings to it and now to you—without a doubt, all you knew these last months was orders. Do as your told and make it to the next day. You only knew bloodlust, no more dreams to keep your sanity together.

Everything was different, even the temporary sun of Seattle seemed to sing a different song. You had no dance left in you at all. Yet despite the subtle knowledge that you’re going to die before the end of this, you continue to follow the rules.

You just can’t bring yourself to care at all, you already lost everything—Riley made sure you knew that much. In the end, there’s nothing left of your life to return to. You move with the others—you don’t belong here though. You never belonged with them. You stop, the moment Riley separates from the group—the moment you heard the onslaught of growls. You stop completely in your tracks.

You don’t want to die.

You back into the rocks and drop down, knowing only one thing—that this is not your fight. “My name is Y/N.” You close your eyes. “I’m 18 years old.” Knees brace against your chest. “I was a ballet dancer. I died.” The sound of shattering bodies makes you squint harder, every sound sends a ricochet through you.

Make it go away.

“My name is Y/N. I died, and I just want to go home.” It has to go away, you don’t want this. You wish they would have just killed you.

“Hi Y/N.” You look up at the man with golden blonde hair and striking gold eyes. You would be crying, you want to cry. You don’t move, preparing yourself to die.

“I’m sorry—I-I don’t—” You shake your head, “I can’t—I don’t want to do this.” You are pleading with the gods more than him, wishing they’ll have mercy on you when it’s all done. You used to believe in god.

“Shhhh….” He soothes, “it’s okay… We won’t hurt you…” you follow him hesitantly, anxious to even be walking… You are their enemy, but they do not attack—they watch you with feverish pity, you hat their pity even more.

You did not expect the wolves, but in spite of your fear—you cannot look away from one of the smaller gray wolves. And if you weren’t on edge. You would almost say that they were watching you.

It all came down to a trade, Bree died and you lived—the insistence of the Cullens had saved you. Even though you came here to kill their human, they defended you. One of them even argued it had to be you. They were convincing enough.

Days turned to weeks and then weeks into months—the diet came easier than it sounded. Your eyes had begun to shift to a deep shade of gold. You almost hated yourself a little less. You put on a smile and walk in the direction of the stairs before stopping at the sight of—well you’ve never met her. Yet those eyes are familiar. Hair cropped short and dark, lips full and god those eyes.

“Sorry, I had to meet you.” Her apology is confusing, you tilt your head as you stop yourself from moving. You want to be close, but something in the way she is away—it makes you think that she doesn’t want you close.

“I know you.”

“Yeah we met once.” You nod, finally taking. A step forward and she steps back to match.

“The battle…” She nods, arms around her torso. “You were the little wolf.” This time she hesitates and does not move as you take another step down.

“Like I said, I had to meet you just once.” She swallows, studying how you move and every facet of your appearance. It’s a little like seeing the sun after years of being in the dark. Leah did not know what it meant to long for something, not in this way, until she had spent months battling every instinct. While a part of her is drawn to you, the other half is furious at the universe.

If she would have gone to Seattle a day before you were turned, bumped into you just once. Leah would have been there, but now you are a vampire. You were everything she was supposed to hate. And despite you being a stranger and a bloodsucker—she hates you less than most.

“I’m Y/N—” Leah knew your name, she had obsessed over you for months—hours googling you. Your missing persons report and family posts, they were shocking and painful. They were full of blistered memories from people who knew you better, but they pained Leah.

“Leah.” You smile and Leah loses herself for a moment, had tried to tell herself that she would feel nothing because you weren’t human. But she feels every second of your presence. In another universe. But Leah was certain the moment you smiled, that even in this universe—she chooses you.

“Well Leah, we have officially met now.” Yeah and now she doesn’t know what to say, and she rocks onto the balls of her feet. You can hear how hard her heart pounds, racing. “I do have to go right now, but I can give you my number?” Leah nods, takes it down and follows you out of the house. You don’t seem like a vampire at all, you seem oddly human.

“Bye Leah.” Then you are gone and Leah is on the porch, in quiet and calm.

“Bye.”

How long are you supposed to wait? When is it appropriate for Leah to hit send on a message? She had rewrote it a hundred times already. An hour. Leah hits send… Oh, god it was too quick. She begins to panic, rolling over in bed.

‘Hey! I was just about to text you!’

Her lips form into a smile, all of these good things and at the same time, the worry mounts once more. What is she supposed to say?

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to bother you since you rushed out.’

Read, god she really hopes you feel anxious too, terrified that she is reading too much into this. Terrified of even thinking about the one thing that she knows for certain—that she is already caught up in you.

You smile at your phone, leaning into the couch.

‘You don’t bother me at all.’

You type it all so fast and hit send. You almost don’t hate yourself as you go back and forth with her.

‘Good lol. So what’re you up to?’

That was the beginning of one long conversation—no one ever said good night or good morning, everything just continued. Over and over, on the daily. Leah had wrecked her sleep schedule just to see your name grace her screen.

It made everyday worth while.

It was late, your voice echoes over speaker… Leah was hushed, her voice groggy as she tells you about her day.

“Leah?” She hmmms and you continue. “Get some rest. We-”

Leah interjects: “Just talk—I just—”

“Okay.” You rummage through the shelves as quickly as possible, and return to the. All before she even knows you are gone.

“Mr and Mrs Dursley of Number 4 Privot drive, we’re proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” You hear her laugh on the other end of the call, sleep intertwined with the sound.

“Harry Potter, really?” You kind of chuckle, pausing as you listen.

“I never read it.” You were so odd with how you said it, like it was the simplest thing in the world. She never questioned it further and as your voice lulled her to sleep—you can help your smile.

Seth tosses a cream colored envelope in her direction as they sit at the table, his other hand holding the muffin he’s devouring. While the letter itself is unexpected, the scent on it is familiar and known. She tears into the envelope quickly, watching an invitation fall out with messy writing in the corner.

Her eyes draw to the signature first— Y/N.

Leah wonders if you know what you do to her head, the mess you have caused and the inhibitions you have broken. Nothing about you was simple, and it drove her wild. She had only been talking to you actively for a month, but it was like she had known you for years.

Hey Leah!

Not sure if you’ll come, but I really could use some company at this wedding. And I’d rather it be you.

Love Y/N

It was that easy. Leah suddenly was invited to a wedding for people she barely tolerates and she’ll be there with a smile. She hadn’t seen you since you gave her your phone number, and since then—you had consumed her every waking thought.

“So you’re going?” Leah glances up at Seth, shrugging her shoulders—trying to seem nonchalant.

“Yeah, I guess.” Seth rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his muffin.

“Ya know, you imprinted on her. It’s okay to, ya know—be excited about getting to go with her.” Leah again shrugs, really looking at the way your writing jumps out. Your name. “You’re impossible, Leah.”

.

.

Leah tucks her hair behind her ears, trying her best to not to look as giddy as she feels. She had ruined her sleep to talk to you, and spent half her day waiting for your name to brighten up her phone.

‘I’m here’—Leah hits send, almost instantly the message is read and she smiles. Watching those three little dots…. Anticipation…. They disappear, and her heart drops.

“Leah!” She looks up and spots you at the top of the stairs—stunning. This definitely beats phone calls and text messages, because you just exist and Leah is absolutely enamored. “Oh I’m glad you made it!” You were halfway down the stairs before Leah could bring herself to even notice how beautiful you looked. Your hair done up, and eyes glittering the brightest shade of gold—like rich caramel, or amber. Or how you were wearing slacks with a vibrant maroon button down, and somehow was both feminine and masculine. Lips shaded a brilliant red.

“I see now why you had me wear maroon—” The way your expression seems to lift, eyes brightening… Leah is certain that you would be blushing.

“I thought the color would suit you.”

“Or you just wanted us to match?” You again, get that look as she points out exactly what you were thinking. You liked Leah, a lot more than anticipated and enjoyed the closeness.

“The color does look nice on you. I wouldn’t peg you as someone to like dresses.” She kind of half shrugs, again trying to seem as nonchalant as she can be. However, unconsciously—as she rocks on her heels, you note the way the dress moves just a little. You wonder if she’d make your heart race? Would she? Could she?

You don’t know where the confidence comes from—where you found the nerve to grab her hand as you lead her into the wedding. You knew next to no one here, besides her and the Cullens; everyone else was a stranger. Sure you knew Seth’s voice from the times he’d interrupt Leah on the phone. Sure you knew of people, but you didn’t know any of them.

Which made it that much easier, because she was pretty much the only person you needed nowadays. At first, Leah is hesitant to accept the way your hand felt—it was cold, but it was not uncomfortable. It was firm, but again, not uncomfortable. Nothing about you made her uncomfortable at all.

Being near you was as easy as breathing for Leah.

The Cullens took you in, and protected you when the Volturi wanted nothing more than to kill you. They gave you a home when you were certain you had nothing left to have.

“We’re outnumbered.” You tense up, you aren’t a newborn anymore, but you are close enough and you draw in on that strength.

“By a lot.” For family right? That’s what this is all about, and even as you stand adjacent to Alice—you wonder where you would be without them? Dead. That’s the only answer.

“I won’t let them hurt my family.” You tighten your stance, preparing yourself all at once for the oncoming assault.

“Neither will I.” It’s the four of you versus everyone else, just you against the wolves and it seems like every time you are certain you can breathe. Another wolf takes their place.

Even when the others arrive, you are left pinned—hands barred on either side of a wolves jaw. Screaming for help. You turn your head to the side, saving yourself from the teeth—hair tangling with the dirt. You hear a growl, eyes opening to see Leah moving quickly. For a moment, you are back at the battle field. The moment that changed everything, and gave you a second chance.

Once Leah is in front of you, the wolves redirect their attacks—avoiding you at every turn.

Leah’s body is wrapped almost entirely around you, spooning you close as her arms lazily hang over your shoulders. Her cheek pressing against the side of your head. Something about the way her heart beats, it soothes your soul.

“Why’d they stop attacking me?” Every muscle in her body seems to tense, just slightly, but enough for you to notice the change.

“Because I’d kick all their butts before they got to you.” You smile lightly, enjoying the sound of her voice as she smiles back—laughing just a little. But the way the sound catches in her throat, it tells you that there’s more to it.

“Cute, but really? Why? It made no sense, one second I was a prime rib and the next—it was like they were avoiding me.”

“Are you really questioning why they didn’t want to kill you anymore?” You kind of shifts your body so that you are facing her, still leaning into her—her fingers ghosting over your face to brush the hair out of your face.

“Yeah because I think there’s something you’re not telling me.” Leah purses her lips, you can see the thoughts physically forming in her head—like she’s trying to come up with a good story. You see her kind of give in, face relaxing as she sighs—tightening her grasp on you.

Nervous, you try to soothe her worries—laying across her chest, head tucked into the spot between her neck and shoulder. Arms wound around her as you listen to the lull of her heart. Even with the way the air catches in her throat, the sudden shift in her demeanor.

“I imprinted.” Your brow contorts, only hearing of imprinting one time before—sacred. That’s how Edward described it. “And if they hurt you, they would have broken everything we believe in.” Leah’s throat tightens, she had wondered many times of things would be different? What would have happened if you were human? Would she care more? Would she know you?

“Do you love me?” It was that simple, you didn’t ask the big questions or the complicated ones. Your eyes were wide and for a moment she just studied your expression, it was a half as second.

“Imprint or not, I’d love you either way.” Maybe it would have taken longer, but it didn’t matter because she has you now. Your sweet smile, it’s all Leah needs to know that much. She would have found you eventually.

“Good.” You hum out the word, smiling as you lean in to place a soft kiss on her lips.

[the-fiction-witch]

Just To Spite You

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty AF

Requested: Hi, I would like to request something It's for the jack Dawkins book The reader's father is throwing a party and invites a lot of people including jack , the reader's enemy. They hate each other, the thing is there is such a thick tension between them they can't deny it but it has to be a secret 

I stood at the top of the staircase doing my best to hold my breath and keep out of view. I looked down at myself in my little heeled shoes too tight for my feet, my tight stockings, my endless crinoline, bird cage of wicker, petticoats, my corset on tight enough to strangle me, and my huge uncomfortable gold glittering ballgown around me, the top off my shoulders but tight to my skin so much it would truly mark me, my long sheer glittering butterfly sleeves almost to the floor, A band of teal blue ribbon around my waist, my hem and as a choker around my neck. I had skin-tight white gloves to my elbows already glimmering from the glitter that had fallen from my dress, a ring around my finger with a large blue gem attached to the bottom my dress so I would not have to hold it to move or dance, My hair had taken hours or meticulous combing and curling and now allowed to hang freely down my back. I hated to look at myself. I felt uncomfortable. Out of place. But this is what my father wants for tonight... 

Tonight was my father's Grand ball he holds each year, and this year I was a grand piece of it. 

I had always been a decoration for his grand balls but tonight was different I know my father is desperate to wed me off before I will begin to be labelled as an old maid or thornback, it already brought him such rage that I was even a spinster.  

"If I may announce, formally. My daughter Miss Y/n Y/M/N Y/l/N!" He called out and the party began to applaud. 

I sighed and stepped slowly down the stairs knowing the sort of madness if I were to trip or worse fall down the stairs. I stopped at the landing of the stairs looking out the the party, full of eligible men and a few couples of high local importance. They all looked impressed by me but I just felt awful. As soon as I could I grabbed a drink and hid myself in a corner trying to not be passed or looked at much, not easy in this glitter of a gown. 

Men often came up to me to greet me so I forced a smile and a nod a drank more. 

"Having fun?" A smirking voice spoke up I glanced to my side and saw a familiar sight... admittedly He'd cleaned up. 

Dr Jack Dawkins leant on the wall a pair of well-shined shoes, black trousers, and his usual shirt but it was actually white. Good god I didn't know he still owned any that were still white and not an off-grey from washing blood out, a light cream waistcoat with a slight teardrop pattern to it, a white tie around his neck and a black jacket folded over his arm, his hair well fixed without its usual fluffy frizz and his hands clean... or well as clean as one can get a surgeon's hands without bathing them in acid. 

"Ohh yes, Thrilling." I sighed downing the rest of my drink at the mere idea of the two of us having to... be nice to one another. 

"You're father's gone all out."

"He will. He does. He's a social man."

"And you're a recluse."

"I am not a social recluse Dr Dawkins, I meer wish to spend my time socializing with people with high intellect and important things to say."

"That's why you're talking to me?" he smirked,

"No. You are neither of those things so if you could kindly take your buggery blonde butt elsewhere that would be... Marvellous." I sighed as I saw a drinks tray go past so I quickly took one and so did he, 

"Pompous Old maid" he muttered

"Butcher."

"Whiner"

"Coot"

"Witch"

"Uneducated scoundrel"

"Patronizing Princess"

"irritating malevolent"

"Snobbish toffee nose"

"illiterate Phiilistine"

"exasperating Spinster"

"Crude vagabond" I complained, "will you go away!"

"I would, however, every woman here is married, courting or an utter idiot. And at least you can hold a conversation."

"Even if I'm going to insult you."

"Insult me all you want just please don't talk about bloody flowers. I can't hear anymore." 

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"You're father invited me."

"Why? He knows about my... feelings towards you."

"I believe he mistakes our hatred for sexual tension," he said, 

"Why would he do that?"

"At least he sees you talking to me, even if we are arguing. And let's face it most husbands and wives are like this after five years so... maybe he just thinks we are getting a head start" he said sipping his drink

"You are one of the most insufferable men I have ever met Mr Dawkins."

"Dr Dawkins. You're going to insult me you can do it correctly Sweetheart."

"Do not call me sweetheart!" I glared 

"Why? Are you gonna fight me in your glittery little dress sweetheart?" He smirked moving closer and bending himself to make eye contact like you would with a child given he was a whole head taller than me "Or better yet take it off and we can go upstairs."

My response was to simply throw my drink in his face and march off elsewhere. 

Unfortunately, I was found by my father who forced me to begin the usual nonsense, I now had to dance with any man who asked it of me and of course many did. I found it utterly nauseating being held and dancing with these men only interested in me for my father's money all while on display to everyone meaning if I pulled a face or acted up everyone would know. Luckily it would soon be over as most of the eligible men invited I had now danced with. 

This man finished up with me kissed my gloved hand and returned to his friends, leaving me before him.

Jack stood with a wide smirk his jacket now back on he bowed and offered his hand, I did my best to hide my face but I'm sure I turned red with anger. 

"Don't you dare," I whispered letting him take my hand and giving it a sweet kiss 

"Ohh I will princess. Just to spite you" He smirked holding my hand in his own he grabbed my waist and forced me close enough I could feel the buttons on his jacket, I sighed and moved my hand to his shoulder, 

"I am going to dispice every moment of this."

"I think I'm going to enjoy it," he smirked as we began to dance, he lead of course even if at times I did fight with him luckily many others danced too so we could speak even in hushed tones and I didn't have to be as careful hiding my emotions 

"Do you have to hold me so tight my father will get angry?"

"Ohh that's the plan, I want us to be close."

"Why?"

"well half because I can make your father suspicious, and I can see down your dress."

"You just get more and more insufferable don't you Dr dawkins."

"Ohh I do, it's awfully fun." He chuckled "Christ I can feel the glitter on your dress flaking off in my hand" 

"Perhaps I shall send you home glittery and sparkling,"

"You would wouldn't you."

"I would. Just to spite you."

"God even your perfume is infuriating" he whispered in a sly tone as we danced doing a good spin or two, 

"Ohh I live for the moments you spin me away, Dr Dawkins,"

"Ohh why do you get a moment of peace from my arms?"

"No, because for a few brief seconds, I don't have to smell your blood-laden aftershave." 

"Perhaps I smell bloody because I'm a vampire about to bite your neck sweetheart."

"You bite my neck, and I chop your dick off," I said purposely forcing him to spin me out but he quickly spun me back into his chest

"Ooohh feisty" He smirked 

"At least my drink somewhat covers your aftershave."

"Well then I thank you for making me more palatable" 

"Ohh you're far from palatable." 

"You know, you're not a bad dancer."

"Neither are you, surprisingly." I sighed "How did you get this good?"

"So I'm good am I?"

"For a butcher."

"I was in the navy, you'd be surprised how many officer's balls you attend. You pick things up."

"I imagine all the ladies wanted to dance with you,"

"Ohh they did, but I save my skills for the pretty ones."

"so I'm pretty am I?"

"Gorgeous Sweetheart." He whispered 

"Don't call me sweetheart." I glared digging my nails into his hand 

"You are adorable when your are angry, like a little pixie."

"One of these days Dr. Dawkins, you're going to wake up with me over you."

"Ohh I'm betting I will" he smirked 

"And I shall drive your own scalpel into your heart." 

"Ohhh sweetheart, such a violent little thing you are." He smirked, "Just remember you do anything to me, I will haunt your every waking moment, I will be the face you see in your nightmares and trust me you'll be having nothing but."

"Just dance doctor." I sighed 

"Why? Are you enjoying our dance? or do you just like a man having you in his arms."

"I've been dancing in men's arms all night."

"Not boys. A Man sweetheart." 

"Ohh I would love too, shame I don't see any men here tonight."

"One of these days I'm going to have you tied down on my operating table."

"Ohh? Didn't know you were into that sort of thing Dr Dawkins."

"Ohhh you'd be surprised by the sorts of things I'm into."

"Ohh getting rejected by little ladies? even after you saved their lives."

"You know. I'm a doctor."

"As you keep saying."

"One of these days you'll need my help, you'll be laid on my table, and only I will be able to save you."

"Ohh? And you'll let me die I suppose out of pure spite?"

"No." he smirked as we finished our dance he took a step back and brought my hand to his lips giving it a firm kiss never breaking eye contact "I'd ensure you live. Just to spite you." He smiled "Goodnight Miss Y/l/n"

"Goodnight Dr Dawkins."

"It was a pleasure," he smiled wickedly before he headed back into the main mess of the party. 

Ohh, my god... I hate that man. 

why does he have to be so..... Ughhh! there isn't been a word for that man! 

I fixed my dress a little before I noticed.

MY RING! 

It's gone! 

Ohh and I know just the slippery eel who took it. 

"Miss if I may-" A man began trying to dance with me

"Not now." I snapped lifting my dress and marching through the party to find Dr Dawkins, and I spotted him leaving the main room so I rushed after him grabbed his jacket and yanked him into the music room empty for this evening 

"What the hell!" He yelled 

"My ring I know you stole it!"

"I haven't stolen anything." 

"Liar!"

"Ohh you come to admit I've stolen your heart?"

"Give me my ring Jack! it was my mother's give it back." 

He rolled his eyes and handed me my ring back 

"You are... the most unendurable peacockish Lobcock of a man I have ever had the misfortune of meeting!"

"You are the most horrendous upstart of a woman I have ever met!"

Both of us were red in the face from yelling, our blood boiling I wanted to kill him to throw him across the room but I grabbed his shirt and he grabbed my face and we kissed with more passion and heat than I had ever felt in a kiss, his lips soft and gentle as we slowly kissed in utter silence. It was... the most amazing kiss of my life. 

We stopped and moved away from each other both of us gasping and trying to comprehend what just happened between us. 

"What the hell was that..."

"I have no idea."

"Do you wanna fight me or fuck me jack!"

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know. you're a ...complicated woman and you make me feel... Complicated"

"Complicated?"

"Some days, I swear to god I could strangle you! but... I also want to hold you and kiss you"

"I...I admit I want to slap you so so badly but... I also really want to kiss you." I answered, "Did you wanna do it again?"

"God yes!" He gasped pulling me back to his lips, I happily kissed him back stroking his neck and tugging on his hair, and he backed me against the closed door "Ummm you evil little witch! all this time all you've done is wind me up, I want you. I need you. I swear to god I will tie you to my bed tonight and have my way with you kicking and screaming if I have to."

"I want you too. I need you too. I want you forced on my bed until you beg me for mercy"

"Ohh I wouldn't beg you for mercy. Just to spite you."

"Then I'd never scream just to spite you." 

"Ohh I'll make you scream sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart."

"Ohh I will," he smirked 

"We must stop"

"We must."

"I don't want to."

"Me either."

"But we must." I gasped moving away "We must. We... we must build a wall between us. These emotions they must... never be revealed."

"No... they mustn't" he nods 

I found myself unable to not stare but he also couldn't help it, as we stood five feet from each other wanting nothing more than to be in each other's arms 

"Beleive me... if your father and his party were not on the other side of that door." He said, "I would throw you on this floor and ruin you." 

"As would I you." I answered "But... we cannot. People will hear. people will talk. We can never be together."

"Why not? this is a ball to find you a husband isn't it?"

"why would I ever want to be married to you!"

"Because we can't resist each other. You know it. I know it. Our anger has always been just boiling tension... take my hand. and come with me to see your father. Let me marry you. and I swear our lives will be nothing but enthralled passion and ecstasy." 

"I do not wish to be married."

"And you can't avoid it. you know you can't your father will wed you to the first of those boys who ask... and you know your life could be infuriating if you were married. At least if you marry me you know it will be."

"Passion made fade in time."

"If it does... it will be too late. I will be yours. your will be mine. I do not imagine our passion fading but if it does, I will keep you in my arms, love you endlessly, and make love to you with the passion of tonight. Just to spite you."

"if we were to marry, you must understand that I will have to trust you... and if you break it Dr dawkins. I will see to it that your life is miserable and I will never ever give you peace, just to spite you."

"Understood. marry me. Be my bride. And I swear I will suffer with you all of my days." he said taking my hands 

"....Marry me. Make me your bride... so we can suffer this fate together for the rest of our lives." I stroked across his face 

He pulled me to his lips and we kissed with such hunger, such passion and love.

"I love you sweetheart,"

"Love you too Jack." I smiled laying my head on his chest and he rested his chin on my head 

"Come on then, let's go see your father before some boy tries to snap you up, sweetheart."

"Alright jack" I smiled holding his arm as we returned to the party. 

[ryuichirou]

Replies

But also some news!

First of all, I wanted to remind you that my pricelist will be updated by the end of the week, so please feel free to message me if you want to take a slot to commission me with my current prices!

Second of all, we got our twitter account back! We ended up deleting that one post that twitter didn’t like (yes, the one that doesn’t have anything explicit or any nudity on it), which obviously sucks, but at least now we can jump back to posting more or less regularly.

And now that this situation is over, I can say about the thing that honestly tickled me: the last person who wrote a callout post on me right before our acc got locked (=the person who very likely caused the massreporting in the first place) got accused of grooming a 13 y.o. and had their account terminated the very next day. What a great illustration of how the fandom climate works, right? Hilarious.

Alright, replies replies. Some about Fellow and Gidel, some about Rook, Idia, a little bit of Lilia and some miscellaneous asks.

Anonymous asked:

wait, Fellow is it a good idea for Gidel to write?? Isn't he illiterate?? (I might be wrong on the writing part, but I'm pretty sure Gidel is said to be unable to speak because he didn't get an education :(, r.i.p to the poor boy)

But look at it, Anon! He clearly writes, and like a typical doctor as well! A highly educated man!

(Yeah, Gidel doesn’t know how to write lol I am not sure if Fellow is super literate either… just like the characters they are inspired by lol)

Anonymous asked:

I want to bite Idia’s thighs but I also want to nibble Lilia’s legs courtesy of your pic of him in those delicious Playful Land tights 😩

(this is about a sketch from ko-fi)

They really are nibbleable… nibbable… one would want to nib on them. And Lilia knows that :(

Thank you <3

irregardlessly-tish asked:

Since you started posting Fellow art I said to myself "I guess I'm watching that event now so I can look at the art and think yeah, he would totally get gang banged by them" lol

Tish! You’re great as always lol I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

Fellow is so breedable it’s insane. I can’t help it.

unofficialwheatdog asked:

I'm gonna snatch Fellow away from everyone

Like that my husband, he fluffiness mine and mine alone

Mwah mwah to Fellow I wove him and the way you draw him

he's too good for them but ruined enough for me(lol me in my possessive era)

Omg real possessive era lol I get it, he really is fluffy to the point of leaving one speechless. But please understand, these boys can’t hold back at all… :( Be kinder them, they can’t help it!

I’m glad you love how I draw him <3

Anonymous asked:

Curious, u do non con/ rape art?

Pls tag if yes, I wanna see

I do, but I also don’t remember any recent noncon piece to tag anything lol I am definitely not opposed to it, and a lot of our nsfw pieces have at least dub-con vibes. I guess that one general!Lilia/Idia piece comes to mind first! And octopus!Azul/Idia that I drew for the same zine…

Maybe it would be easier to look through my pixiv logs; all the nsfw pieces are usually closer to the end of the log.

Anonymous asked:

You know I never had interest in drawing nsfw, I started a fanart blog with the intent of just making cute/cool sfw pieces maybe some ship stuff. However I am sick and tired of watching the twst fandom affect the mental health of my friends. And I know at least one of my ships will be threatened even if they just hold hands.

So here’s my plan: if I start receiving hate I will make an announcement: if I reach a particular milestone of hate I will learn to draw nsfw. I will make them kiss harder. Harass me and I will become worse.

Fr tho I want to be the brave idiot in the hope that others won’t feel alone.

Sorry for the late reply! Anon, you are already brave lol I like your plan. Become worse to spite them! And to support everyone who is harassed. And to have fun of course.

I wish you and your friends and anyone else didn’t have to worry about being harassed because of your ships. So please, take care of yourself, but also? Fuck them; draw and post whatever you want to make yourself and your friends happier and enjoy the fandom experience that you and your friends create.

Anonymous asked:

"something's missing..." might be your shirt rook, idk tho 🤔

(this is about this drawing)

Oh no, he forgot his shirt again. And no one at Savanaclaw is brave enough to tell him.

Anonymous asked:

 I remember that Savannaclaw Rook only cut his hair with a knife, soooo, yeah. How do you think first year Rook would respond to first year Idia and vice versa?

Honestly it looks like it lol He and Lilia have something in common…

We love first year Rook with first year Idia so much, Anon, you have no idea! And Rook/Idia in general, this is one of the things that I really want to draw properly at least once. For now we only have sketches…

But to answer your question! I like to think that Rook was very intrigued by Idia right away; of course Idia isn’t a beastman, but he is not only super bright and shiny-looking (unusual! Interesting!), but also is a very rare pokemon to see. It’s very easy to picture Rook getting excited and charmed by him, maybe he even had a period of a little obsession~ But of course none of this is in any way returned by Idia; to him being suddenly surrounded by so many loud and annoying people his age is already stressful enough, but Rook is somehow worse than all of them combined. He hates everyone from Savanaclaw, but they’re usually just rude jerks, but Rook? If only he was a rude jerk…

Anonymous asked:

Chen’ya, are you flashing people on purpose? What are you gonna do if someone likes it?

(related to this post)

Knowing Che’nya, he’ll probably disappear lol Never let them guess your next move. They liked it? Too bad. They didn’t like it? Oh too bad… >:3

Sometimes he is in a flirty mood though~

Anonymous asked:

I’m surprised Lilia doesn’t also spank Idia to punish him

He really should, and his spanks wouldn’t be as murderous as Azul’s! Idia is going to receive punishment AND survive!

I can picture Lilia stopping mid-spank with the realisation though: oh right, this isn’t his kid, this is Idia…

Anonymous asked:

(tw: self-harm)

this might be a bit dark but i’m curious: do you think idia self-harms? every now and then, i see ppl draw him with SH scars. i’ve never been able to decide if it feels like him or not. punishing himself, hating himself, wanting to control this one aspect of his life bc he can’t control anything else sound like idia, but also, being too resigned, lazy, or phobic of pain also sound like idia… little nutjob he is 😒 thoughts?

This is such a good question, Anon. It’s honestly still kind of easy to imagine him doing that. He punishes himself constantly, and while I don’t think this is necessarily about control, this absolutely could be about wanting to make himself feel even worse or to distract himself from the other kind of deep pain he’s feeling. Since we’re talking about a character here, as an artist I can also add that seeing him this way could be aesthetically pleasing, there are some very good artworks with this theme.

That being said, we usually tend to think that Idia wouldn’t do that. I agree that Idia being phobic of pain sounds very like him, but also? He is very detached from the physical side of things in general, I think. He would rather torment himself mentally.

Another reason for Idia and selfharm not really working in our heads is that I don’t think Ortho would let him. He is very sensitive to changes in his health condition after all.

[shadyufo]

How much do you like selling on Etsy? I've been thinking about opening up a shop to sell my own taxidermy art on there. It's just that I've heard Etsy is known for shutting down shops randomly and people keep saying that Etsy's "dying"/on a downward slope. I also heard there are a lot of scammers... What are your thoughts?

Hi Anon!

My feelings about Etsy have definitely gotten sorta complicated over the last few years.

First of all, I love my little shop. I love getting to interact with so many sweet and lovely folks and I love getting to send my art and oddities all over the country. I’ve sold pieces through Etsy that have ended up in museums and classrooms, as props in movies and television shows, that have been centerpieces in peoples’ weddings, that were birthday gifts for little kids just getting into nature and science, and so many other neat and wonderful places with some really awesome people who I am forever grateful to for supporting my shop.

That said, in my opinion, Etsy is definitely not what it used to be and there are plenty of things I wish they would do differently to make the site better for sellers and buyers. I think their search feature needs a total revamp and they also need to crack down on all the sellers flooding the site with mass-produced merchandise. Their recent decision that AI-made content is totally fine by them is another serious bummer and a slap in the face to the real artists using their platform. The list goes on.

In spite of all that, if you want to open an online shop, then Etsy is still probably the best site to do it on, at least starting out. It’s a trusted, household name and they have millions of users from all around the world so you are going to be getting much more traffic than if you were just starting your own site from scratch without any sort of social media following.

You'll still likely want to grow a social media presence (if you haven't already) to help drive traffic to your site rather than rely on Etsy alone for this. A great deal of my own shop's traffic comes from Tumblr and what little I post on other social media. This is something I really should be better about as I've kinda shot myself in the foot by not utilizing them more over the years...but I just really don't like using TikTok or Instagram haha.

From what I’ve seen, vulture culture stuff-wise, Etsy mostly gets mad at folks who sell wet specimens or other more “gruesome” type of oddities and don’t blur the main listing photo or do something similar to warn folks that it could be something they might find upsetting. They also prohibit the sale of some animal parts that are perfectly legal to buy and sell provided you follow the laws around them. So if a seller was listing some of those items, while legal elsewhere, that might have gotten them in trouble with Etsy. Here's a list of what they don't allow. And here's a more specific list of their prohibited animal parts. Note bear, wolf, and zebra are on the list—it's perfectly legal to sell parts from some of these animals in some places provided you follow the laws around doing so, but Etsy doesn't allow it at all. I've had them remove listings for domestic dog and cat skulls in the past as well—the law there is in regards to selling dog and cat fur (which is illegal in the US) but Etsy seemed to think it covers bones as well which it does not.

As for scammers, don't click on suspicious links anyone sends you and watch out for people wanting to contact you outside of Etsy. Don’t swap phone numbers, email addresses, etc with people. Etsy has guides on their site on what to watch out for that it’d be good to read through.

So all of that to say that if you want to start selling your work online then I think Etsy is most likely going to be the best place to do it, at least starting out. If you want to just dip your toes in the market before opening an Etsy shop though you can always try posting a few items here or there on Instagram or one of the oddities selling groups on Facebook but in my experience at least, Etsy is still the best way to go. Then, once you build up a following, you can always start your own site or branch out beyond Etsy if you want to.

I wish you all the best, Anon! Hope you find wild success selling your work wherever you decide to do it <3

[fedoraspooky]

In light of tumblr shooting itself in the foot, I've been thinking about what I should do with my art from now on. Obviously, deleting my old posts off here isn't gonna do shit, it's essentially locking my door after my house got emptied out by burglars. Especially with my old rp account I no longer can log into, they're just gonna steal and sell my old art that I posted there and I can't even flip a questionably-affective toggle about it.

Thing is, I dunno how many people are gonna actually leave. I'm not even sure I will, since I have a lot of friends here... And after so many shitty updates a lot of people are just hanging on out of spite at this point.

That said, I'm considering that for art posts and stuff, maybe I'll post them elsewhere and just link to them here so they're not on tumblr's servers? Idk... Tumblr tends to kill the visibility of links but I'm not really sure what else I can do.

Also, there's the question of where to actually post new stuff. Bluesky seems the most active but I dont know if old posts cut off after a certain amount of posts like twitter does, in which case that would not be a good archive in the long run. xnx

Cohost is functionally pretty close to tumblr, but ngl it seems super isolated on there bc of its commitment to not showing any likes on your posts. I get that its to combat the social media numbers game, but the downside is that it looks like nobody's even seen your work. If people like something of yours there's no way outside of notifs to see it, so scrolling down on your page and seeing only zeros after zeros of comments on stuff (comments are the only visible number), it's easy to feel like you're just posting into a void.

Pillowfort is pretty good, and they just added tag blocking and the ability to queue/schedule posts. Still kinda quiet and invite only, but if you sign up for the invite queue you can get one pretty fast. Also i probaby have a ton of invites sitting around if anyone wants one. I wish it had an app, but mobile web version works well enough I guess, and I'm already used to doing that with sheezy and newgrounds, so I just have those open in mobile tabs together.

Speaking of, Newgrounds has been pretty good, but due to the nature of the portal system and stuff you're more encouraged to post only your better-looking stuff there. You CAN post doodles if you want, but only outside of the portal, which limits their visibility. Kinda like dA's scraps system I guess.

Sheezy looks super promising customization-wise so I'm thinking of posting there more when it opens up to more peeps.

Toyhouse also looks really good for OC and story things too, and also has a good degree of customization.

There's probs options I haven't even thought about, but its good to know there ARE options. I may post in several of those places for now and see how it goes. Test the waters a bit.

If you're thinking of moving your art elsewhere lemme know where, I'm curious to see where people are going :o

Especially you moots, i need to refind my pals in these other places!

[meadowlarkx]

Body and Spirit

Fic/Elven food writing on pregnancy for @tolkienekphrasisweek day 2: Culinary Arts, for the theme of "bread and roses." | AO3

From the writings of an unknown Elf-scholar of the First Age, found in the ruins of Vinyamar before Beleriand’s sinking; now housed in Rivendell.

Rightly has it been written that the bearing of children takes great share and strength of one’s being. It is the duty of each faithful spouse to attend their partner carefully in this time and wait upon their needs. So the proverbs run “thou worriest like a first-time father” and “when the husband’s belly is full, the wife’s hands are never empty.” And any healer will attest that food nourishes the spirit of parent and child both, if it is prepared correctly.

In days of old, parents could rest easier: it was peacetime, and labor was effortful but always painless. Dim eyes were soon brightened by the new child’s squalling, and child and bearer both were anointed with Laurelin’s dew and garlanded with Telperion’s blooms as safeguards against dark dreaming. It is true also that Yavanna and Oromë never let expecting parents go wanting, sending servants to each threshold with fruits of field, orchard, and wood that sated more than any other. If even then Míriel’s spirit was spent and spouses fretted, how much more do they fret now, and with better reason! Yet babes go on being born as if in spite of the shadow.

Our souls are fashioned such that the mind of one spouse draws very near to the mind of the other and each knows always (if things are aright) the contemplations of the other’s inmost heart, and this is to great advantage in childbearing just as it is in child-begetting. It makes easy and unburdensome those urgent cravings that may strike one with child. Indeed a husband often knows before his wife does what it is she wishes to eat or drink, and the best spouses are ever at the elbow of their partner with this or that delicacy. My own wife once had such a wish for pickled radishes that our garden’s were finished in one Mingling, and all of the neighbors made gifts of theirs for our kitchen.

Of these desires some say that they foretell the tastes of the babe when it is grown, and others divine in them the babe’s impatience, laughter, worry, and so on. I will not here offer a full enumeration, for it seems to me each family speaks differently, and every parent is their own loremaster in this matter.

A few more words on the subject. Many have found certain cordials and tisanes soothing and strengthening for the spirit strained with child. A honeyed elderflower infusion refreshes the body, especially when chilled with ice. Dried mint, thyme, and ginger root steeped in hot water ease discomfort, and the fragrant steam brightens the spirit. As winters here bite so deeply, this last may be of most use. 

Begettings are most frequent in the Spring and thus Elves are often in childbed come Spring again. So I have striven to mark a calendar of the seasons, as well as those dishes once or now customary to be served for the health and joyful greeting of a new-growing babe and to honor and sustain the one with child. Though much is scarce, and certain plants cannot be found, new children are rare in these lands and the bearing of them is a hard thing, and a brave one. I ask readers to use every store at their disposal to make it easy and happy. Where one thing cannot be found, another of similar savor can be used in its stead.

Spring (begetting)

It is still a tradition among our people to celebrate with feasting when the child’s spirit is first felt, even if, as it may be now, only the wedded pair themselves are at the table. Sweet and savory dumplings are usually the centerpiece of this dinner. A simple dough of flour and water or egg will suffice to wrap them. Soft cheese well-salted and herbed with chopped ramp, garlic scapes, and violet leaves makes a good filling in this season. Preserved fruits and jams will suit as well.

Two things are essential in such a feast: a bowl of rich broth (each prepares it differently), to nourish the child, and a small dish of honey infused with violets, to welcome it with sweetness. Both are for the bearer of the child to drink entirely, or among the Sindar and Teleri, to be passed between both parents to the raucous encouragement of their family and friends. It is a remarkable and auspicious thing that the Elves of Middle-earth drink broth and honey to mark the time of begetting as we did in the West. Perhaps this has been our way since the days of the first awakening, though to uncover the truth of it would demand a keener mind than mine.

Summer

Summer is a time for sweets as the babe grows. The moment of quickening often occurs in late summer and may be celebrated as well. The following is the method for a cake preferred by the Vanyar that has since become popular among our people: Mix a light batter of flour, butter, egg, milk, and honey, perfumed with a spoonful of orange blossom water or rosewater, and some of the peel of a lemon; pour it into small round baking dishes that have been well oiled. Into each dish of batter, press the cut slices of exactly one peach or plum, arranged in a round to resemble the whole. (Persimmon and guava were also favored in Tirion, an you find them.) Bake in a quick oven until fragrant and golden, then cool and turn out. Scatter the tops of the cakes with rose petals.

Some among the Vanyar make a version of this sweet with a heavier dough, pressed thin and swaddled about whole fruits which are then baked so assembled. In both methods, the cakes, or depending upon whom you ask, the round fruits therein, are said to show the size of the babe at midsummer.

Autumn

The foods preferred in autumn during childbearing honor Elf and child while lending strength for the coming winter. One preparation that is very savory is to set a partridge or game hen in an artfully arranged “nest” of carrots, parsnips, slivers of apple and wild onion stalks, whichever of these are to hand, and to roast them all together until tender and browned so that the vegetables take in the bird’s juices. A lighter but very popular delicacy is that of strips of very thin dough twined into the shapes of nests or cradles. They are then filled with a mixture of stewed figs and blackberries, spiced with cardamom. The time spent upon winding such small baskets makes this task one best and most joyful shared among many hands with laughter and singing. It is ill fortune, however, if the Elf bearing the babe lays hand to such work, which ought to be done instead on their behalf.

Winter

Anyone will tell you that several foods for pregnant Elves are ever insisted upon by relatives and spouses in the cold of winter, and all the more in this land where cold numbs and freezes. One must be especially careful during this time. Yet some dishes are held to be particularly lucky or healthful. One adopted from the Falathrim is a clear stew of white fish and pickled salted greens, flecked with barley: it is oft prescribed and thought to ensure a good flow of milk after the birth, especially when tender crab’s meat is added. A porridge of as many different seeds as can be found (poppyseed, wheatberry, buckwheat, oat, walnut, and hazelnut are favorites) brings a life of plenty to the couple and the future babe. It is typically flavored with dried fruits and orange rind, and sweetened with honey.

In the past, the most devoted spouses sought fresh snows from the heights of holy Taniquetil to mix with cream, sugar, and vanilla seed. Such a simple iced confection is thought especially delectable for Elves bearing children, as it refreshes a strained body and delights the spirit. Here the winter season affords the best opportunity both to make and to relish it.

Spring (childbed)

Just as violet-steeped honey is drunk to celebrate conception, so it is again upon the table as the span of a year draws to a close and the time of childbed approaches. A draught of such honey stirred into clear springwater with crushed thyme is drunk by the Elf nearing childbed to make labor sweeter—all the more needful now that it brings such pain. Many favor also a round leavened bread of red winter wheat studded with seeds, said to be more strength-giving in the short term than lembas, and good for weariness before and after childbirth.

All must attentively wait upon the Elf who has recently undergone the trial of childbirth, providing comfort and celebration. A sweet soup of cloudy sea moss, dried fruit, and boiled dumplings filled with chopped nuts is customarily prepared by the family and specially offered to the Elf recovering abed. It is delicate and soothing to the stomach and marks something of the sweetness of this most joyous of times—before the great feasts of the child’s naming.

_____

Endnotes on AO3; say hi if you like!

[trashlama]

YAN!FUTURE!DONNIE X READER!!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Heeeeeeyyyyy guess whose back!

This is a part of I guess this series of one shots I got going on. →This post can explain more←

This is the image I used for Donnie in this one. ↓

Art isn't mine but the design is radical!

Sorry this took so long. Honestly I almost didn't post it cause I didn't like how it came out. Like I kept trying to fix it to how I like it buuutt, this was the best that I could do. I might try rewriting it or somethin'. I was just trying to change it up buuutt, I suck. Did my best with the proof reading. Probably could have tried to proof read it more.

Honestly this fic is pretty dark. Originally was darker.

Please no minors, 18+ only!(There's no smut or anything sexual, just a lot of technically triggering elements)

The meme in this fic is not mine I just found them on Pinterest and they were too good.

Read the creator's notes below for more!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Humming computer fans and diligent typing filled the silent void in the poorly lit room. If not for the obscured ominous glow of the various monitors littering the labatory you would've believed you had gone completely blind. Having already lost the vision on your right to the slimy pink tentacle bastards who transformed your planet into the living Hell on Earth.

Guess religion was right about something. At The End of Days the devil came for the damned. And in spite of your mother's faithful beliefs, there was never a savior to come swop away the righteous to the selective pearly gates of the Heaven she had mindlessly prayed to. She was wrong. Her savior locked her out.

There would be no salvation. Not for anyone.

Instead for the first thirteen years after the Krrang's invasion you suffered. Everyone suffered.

Shit hit the fan and it splattered like a chocolate pie in bad clown gag.

Overnight the world you had grown up in changed for the worse. Blind to the way society crumbled and turned into a Mad Max film. Unaware of the great loss. Naive and young you weren't prepared for the grotesque violence that replaced your boring mundane life that you had taken for granted.

How you wish there was a way to go back.

Return to days where your only worries were filling out job applications to move out of your mother's abode and getting into a good college. Begging whatever deities listened to accept you to one of the variety of schools you had applied for. Preferably one more than five hundred miles away from the run-down neighborhood in the Bronx you lived in. You've always wanted to travel the country and college opened up that opportunity to do so. Had everything gone according to plan you would've started your first semester that following fall.

Though it wasn't meant to be. Instead you spent that lonely winter, grieving

" (Y/n) "

At the call of your name the chain that hung from around your neck clanked as a single (e/c) orb snapped out of its routine day-dreams to look towards the owner of the tired deep voice that had called to you. It was Donatello. Said ninja turtle kneeling at your side next to the cot you both shared.

Within the nest of sheets you retracted from the curled position you had been laying in on top of the bed spread. A multi-paterned stitched quilt gifted by one of the softshell turtle's brothers— you forget who; rested at your feet, unused. Protecting thin (skin tone) skin from the piercing cold was a worn pair of faded PJs that consisted of a dark green long sleeve with fluffy grey plaid bottoms. The odd attire didn't bother you in the slightest. When living in the apocalypse fashion hardly matters. If it was usable it was wearable.

Despite of your efforts to block the aged mutant out by focusing your lone (e/c) gaze on soothing else. The Large cold hand of Donatello's petting the top of your head was all your traumatized receptors could focus on. Three lengthy jade digits combing rouge strands of unkept (h/l) (h/c) hair away from their position in your face. Wandering fingertips skimmed over your missing right eye. Playing with the white medical eye patch that kept the old wound hidden. Had this been seven months ago you would've already been trying to bite the technological General's scared appendage off. Though now at this point you just let the mutant do whatever. You didn't care.

The same regard was held when the purple clad turtle observed you. Anything and everything that flashed across your face was cataloged by your analyzing capter's dark narrowed stare. A common occurrence that never faltered in its repetitiveness.

Exhaustion dominated the aged jade complexion of Donatello's. His expression would be read bored if not for the controlled obsession that lurked in pools of night.

You always did like his eyes. Even when they were hidden behind the dual frames perched on his snout. One half a traditional prescription lens the other a crimson infrared optic that provided extra assistance to the current wearer. Like a moth to the flame you were drawn to the night sky he held in those dark pools.

"You're wasting the food Mikey brought you" the softshell flatly chastised. Those same magnetic dark eyes that had been locked with yours turned away momentarily to retrieve something from beside him. The tattered greyish purple cloak he wore tied loosely around his sturdy shoulders draped forward revealing the silver cybertronic mechanical substitute for his left arm. A necessary loss for the cause he dutifully worked for.

You hadn't respond to his comment.

For a moment you began to sink back into your land of memories if it had not been for the scrapping metal of the fork against the plate that was now in the purple bandana wearing turtle's grasp. Stabbing at the rations that the commissary passed out earlier that day. At least you're assuming it's day. It's hard to tell when you never leave the underground base, let alone the prison of Donatello's lab that doubled as his quarters.

Back in reality something moist pressed against your bottom lip.

"Eat."

Robotically you obeyed.

You learned a long time ago that starving doesn't work. It was this or the feeding tub. At least this didn't hurt your throat. The ache in your esophagus from the experience lasted for weeks after. Bile threatening to rise if you focused any longer on the nightmarish memory.

Up till the plate was cleared the mutant continued to feed you. Picking at the dish's portions until there was nothing left. After which the adult ninja turtle placed the cutlery to the side before taking a corner of his faded cloak to wipe away the food residue left around your mouth. Repeating the same method with the plastic cup that sat precariously on the table to the other side of you next to the cement wall.

For a moment his calculative narrowed gaze stared at you before deciding something.

"...I have to go work on the faulty pump in the filter for the hydroponic system in the Agriculture Unit later...." Thick brows frowed together in an unsure manner upon his purple-clad forehead as he continued. ".....would you be interested in joining me for the endeavor?" The aged ninja finally prompted.

You didn't respond.

Had this been seven months ago you would've replied with an immediate yes. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Back then you would've thought somebody, anybody, would help you.

But if that were the case you would've been free already.

It wasn't necessarily a secret that you belonged to the purple bandana wearing brainiac. On the contrary it was a well known fact amongst the inhabitants of the base. It was just an unspoken topic. An issue that the Commander and the rest of the generals much rather sweep under the rug than to confront.

You learned it the hard way.

You had managed to get away somehow after Donatello first claimed you. Before the chained leash that pooled around you became a permanent fixture. In its place there had been a small amount of leeway the softshell gifted you. A fragile trust you didn't bother to strengthen prior to your attempt two months into your captivity. Maybe things would've been different.

You had told Donnie you were just gonna go to the commissary and get them some lunch. Claimed you were trying to be a nice, good partner. You didn't want to disturb the important work you were so proud of him for. Like a termite at Home Depo he ate it up. A bashful smile stretched across his jade complexion that was burnt red.

Playing the serpent who tricked Adam, you slithered from the technological garden of paradise. Departing with a false display of affection. Pride filled you from the phenomenal performance you gave.

Taking flight to the wind you ran down the Resistance headquarters hallways. Without meaning too you lost yourself around the twist and turns of unfamiliar corridors. Your limited vision and even less knowledge of the section's layout not being of much aid to your mission. Especially since prior to your imprisonment you hadn't ventured to this area since it was restricted to Resistance officers way above your ranking.

Though your plan was to run into someone. Anyone who could help you. You were gonna rat out that purple techno creep. He needed to pay. You were fed up with this stupid apocalypse.

Eventually after sprinting down the halls for God knows how long. You found your self face first into the plastron of General Michelangelo.

"Wwhooo! Slow down little missy! You're gonna give this old man a scare!" The greying box turtle joked even though you weren't very much younger than him. Catching your charging figure easily between rough moss palms. Out of breath you began spewing your story. Begging the mystic mutant to help you get away from his crazy purple coded brother.

"Oooohh, so yoouurr (Y/n)..." The youngest general gathered. Aged face scrunching up in a contemplative way, as if he was thinking. For a moment you had thought maybe the mutant turtle knew who you were cause somebody had reported your missing presence. Realized that you had been stolen by one of the very leaders they worked under. Unfortunately that was not the case.

"Yes! I'm (Y/n)! Your brother Donatello, he—"

"Said that if you got lost to return you to him!~"

What.

It was too late to retreat. You didn't even have the chance to react before the orange clad General had you on the ground. Wind punched from your lungs by the sudden force. Mouth mimicking a fish out of water as you gasped for much needed air. Next thing you knew your hands were bound behind your back by the same orange bandana wearing mutant you sought aid from. Kicking and screaming as the moss green Hamato sibling dragged you back to where you had started.

Entering the lab Michaelangelo greeted his flabbergasted older brother. Sporting a wide cheshire grin as he released his grip on you to only then in the same motion push your unbalanced wobbly stature forward caching yourself on Donatello's chest. Leaving shortly after with some sort of fucked up quip you couldn't hear past the pounding in your ears. Heart jackhammering painfully against your ribs. The beat too powerful for any other sound to break it's dominating rythem.

Were you about to have a heart attack?A stroke? You couldn't tell. You didn't think people your age had them.

Once left alone the white hot fury you had expected never came. No beating. Nor any dismemberment of a limb. There were no threats made for your dire transgression. No shouts or screams of possessive anger. Only unnerving still silence.

Somehow that was worse.

You lied. You tried to leave. You made a scene with his younger brother only for said orange clad sibling to drag you back like the dog who got out.

The first ten–fifteen minutes you both just stood there. There were no excuses nor pleading from your part. Just utter overwhelming suffocating quite. The jade and purple tattooed complexion of the General's who stood before you was drained to match snow. Face displaying a composed, conserved expression to anyone who was looking in from the outside.

Unfortunately for you it was always Donatello's dark eyes that gave everything away.

Hurt. He was undeniably wounded by the injury. You broke the thin veil of trust he gave you. You could have done whatever you wanted. As long as you didn't stray far from him. Stayed and supported him. It was all he wanted.

The softshell was so happy when you forged that lie believing the act to be true. Believing that you cared about his health and work. Being kind and supportive enough to trek and retrieve both of your guys' lunch. Except upon his younger mutant brother's arrival the fantasy he was living in was broken. It was all a lie. You deceived him. Betrayed the tempered trust that two of you shared. A thin string you willing snipped.

Saltwater streaks poured down in silent bunches as the aged ninja turtle lowered his head. He really thought you had loved him as you whispered sweet claims from soft deceiving lips that kissed his heated cheek a farewell. Departing with that smile that made his heart race. Donatello was hurt. And so the turtle did the only thing that would hurt you just as much as you had hurt him.

Had you known what he was going to do maybe you would've fought harder than you had.

No words were exchanged as the mutant scientist tied your jittery limbs to your paralyzed figure. Plastic white ties zipped painfully tight around (skinned tone) appendages. Though fear hadn't taken it's full course until the softshell began to secure a thick fabric around your head, blinding you. Finding the immediate endless world of black frightening.

"Please— don't do this— I-I'm sorry!" You plead as large cold hands slide a set of what you assume are noise canceling buds into your ears. You couldn't catch your breath. Your heart wouldn't still itself as it fought for space within your ribcage. "Please! I— mphmfh!"was all you could cry before lastly a gag was stuffed into your teriffied jaws. Based on the texture of the rough fabric you deduced it was most likely an old gym sock from the clothing bin. The worn garment scratched at the roof of your mouth making you taste cooper.

Donnatello hadn't planned to use this method this early on but, this was a lesson that needed to be learned. He was going to deprive you of your senses. Leave you lost just as he would've been without you. Maybe then you'd understand.

For some time you were just scared shitless. Frightful of the purple coded general's unknown intentions. Was he gonna torture you? Kill you and keep the body? The imaginary list was much more scary than the actual first quarter of the punishment . Thankfully nothing happened. The turtle left you be. Probably just watching you from his typical spinny chair from in front of the large monitor dominating the room. The motherfucker probably felt like Batman or some shit sipping on his coffee as you the Joker— fucked around in the holding tube.

When the endless darkness started to pick at your already aggravated anxiety you had tried to force yourself asleep to escape the void. However you found the effort quickly fruitless. Trapped without sound or any background stimulation aside from the limited range of touch at your disposal made the task feel impossible. Dissolving lines between real and what was not becoming harder to differentiate with every passing unknown second.

Attempts to keep your sanity felt futile in spite of efforts to keep the screws forming coming loose. Clawed (skin tone) palms and curling toes only did so much. When all else failed you felt only one thing could be done. You need to feel something. Anything. You couldn't do this anymore. The scratches in your palms did not suffice.

Doing what you felt was your only choice in your spiralling panic. You began to throw yourself around across the lab's tile floor. Using your upper body and knees you inch worm around the room. Purposely banging yourself into anything and everything so you may injure yourself. Feeding your starved receptors with whatever painful sensations you could produce.

Donatello was quick to remove the suppressors once you really started injuring yourself. Most likely calling it when the various wounds littered your (s/c) skin began to form. Following the path you had squirmed eyes like La Brea tar pits found speckles of crimson decorating a variety of the objects in his workspace. As if a baby crawled around repainting his lab with dots of red.

What a pain. Couldn't you have just accepted the punishment like an adult? Now he was gonna have to clean up this mess later. But alas just as many great minds of science had taught him. There was always a price to be paid for results. Maybe he should've just thrown you into solitary or made a modification or two to your Achilles tendons.... Next time.

Cold hands without delay discarded the ear buds and spit soaked sock. Your chest was still rising too fast. You were gonna puke if you stayed any longer in the dark. Though once the blind fold was discarded the softshell turtle's concerned expression was the first thing you saw. The sight of another instantly calming the bees stabbing your stomach lining. A flash of worry glimmered in those pools of ink. Only for the emotion to be consumed by the sticky black tar that lurked beneath.

"Did you learn your lesson?" The purple tattooed turtle questioned softly as he scooped your zip tied bound form into his mix matched arms. Combination of flesh and steel cradling you as he maneuvered towards his cot. Donatello was aware that you have one too but, recently the color coded general had been considereing just having you sleep with him. It'd save him space.

"I doubt it." he chided with a small grin that didn't match his eyes as he laid you down. Tucking you into his barely used sheets.

You didn't bother to request for him to remove the plastic bonds as exhaustion dragged you into the realm of slumber. Senses finally relaxing thanks to some stimulation. Allowing the phantom hand caresse the curve of your cheek as you drifted away.

When you awoke your injuries were bandaged and the plastic that had restrained you was gone. In the zip ties stead was a steel collar and chain hooped around the deadbolt installed in the cool tiled floor of the purple brainiac's lab. The same device you wore to this present day.

"(Y/n).... (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)....."

"(Y/n)"

Oh no you got lost in your memories again didn't you? Based on the softshell's expression, your answer would be yes.

"(Y/n)... I think you should come with me when I go to the farming unit. I think it'd be good for you ....and maybe we'll even see Leon and Casey Jr. " Donnie soothed. His large cold hand returning at some point continued to comb the wild flyaways that tried to elude his threading jade fingers.

You didn't care. You bobbed your head. Listening but, not particularly agreeing nor disagreeing to anything as you went along with the general's wishes.

°°°°°°

In the hallway you and Donatello walked side by side. Your collar and chain were gone. Left behind in the lab due to the bondage being bolted to the floor. Not very mobile. Which in turn left you shackle free for the trip. Seven months ago you would've already tried to attack the turtle like the wild dog you were. You had been.

Now the tamed rescue, you leapt and barked without hesitation when commanded.

Like a good pup you didn't stray from your master's side.

Traversing through the base with the lumbering mutant was a quiet affair. No one bothered the two of you as the purple clad genuis led the way.

Here and there the technological general would make small talk by commenting about certain functions found throughout the headquarters along the short journey. Explaining uses of faculties and tech that had been constructed long before you ever stepped foot in the Resistance headquarters.

Long before you ever met the softshell who kept you prisoner in his room. Like a toy a spoiled child didn't want to share.

Pushing open the floppy doors to the Ag unit; bright UV rays burned your sensitive retinas that grew unconditioned to direct sunlight due to the dark room you were trapped in on a daily. Although unlike you, Donatello's dark narrowed stare remained unfazed by the bright light. Not even a stinge of discomfort upon disciplined matured features.

Artificial warmth even if false still felt soothing on your cold (skin tone) skin.

How you missed the real thing.

Missed the stupid picnics your mother would force you on. Laying under shady emerald trees in the smothering New York summer heat under a bright blue sky. Pouting as you watched your mother and brother played on the playground. You used to think those family outings were a waste of your time when you could be hanging with your friends or studying. Be anywhere but with them. How foolish you were.

A small frown laced your lips as you recalled the more peaceful days.

"(Y/n) this way" Donatello's voice called from in front of you. At some point having grabbed your hand to pull you closer to his tall stature as he escorted the two of you through the rows of growing produce. The tips of his long purple bandana tickled your nose but you made no complaints.

"Donnie over here!"

Onwards he directed you along.

Off in the near distance was the blue clad Commander. On his shelled back was a raven haired child that looked no more than nine.

"Oi! Casey Jr can you please be un bueno niño(a good little boy)!" The leader begged as the afro mentioned brown-eyed boy tugged at the long tied strands to his azure mask. Tighting the fabric painfully around his head. Giggling at his guardian's torment. "Nah! This is so much fun el anciano(old man) " Casey cheered, showing off a wide chipped tooth grin. A recent cosmetic development much to Leo's jargon.

Back and forth the two went as you and Donatello approached the comedic duo. The softshell grown a small grin on his normally uninterested expression.

" Thank Gram Gram you're here Donnie! The pump to the filter finally said capoot! And—"

"Yeah I know that's why I'm here." The jade colored turtle cut off his Commander.

Leonardo didn't mind his brother's injection. Smile still present upon olive skin.

"Alright-o dear brother-o! I'll leave you to it."

As the two siblings continued to chat over the needed maintenance, the raven haired boy leaning over the lumbering leader's shoulder stared straight at you. Eyes like teddy bear plushies bore into your being as they watched. Wide and impressionable. Brown judging spheres.

You could feel the bugs scuttling under your skin again.

"(Y/n)..., (Y/n) are you listening?"

Breaking from the losing staring competition you were having with the nine year old. Knowing dark eyes like night drew your attention back to the mutant who was cradling your hand between his own odd pair.

Once the scientist was sure he had all of you here he repeated his directions. " (Y/n) I want you to hangout out here for a little while I work. The pump requires more attention than I had initially thought..." Jade eyelids closed for a moment as the mutant exhaled his stored breath. " ...if you need me you can ask Leo. He had said he and Casey had some things to do here for a bit anyways so he doesn't mind watching you."

You didn't care. It was just nice being outside that damn lab in general.

With the nod of your head Donatello allowed your smaller hand free from his mix matched grasp. " I'll be back soon. If you get too hot tell Leo and he'll take you inside to cool down." The turtle further explained. It was like he wasn't sure if he could depart from you. Even if he was only temporarily leaving you under his twin's supervision. He still didn't like the idea of not having you beside him as he worked. However the space in the room with the filter was limited. Although Donnatello would prefer to have you in sight. Genius does take a little finesse and he always performed best with space.

With one more glance the softshell turtle turned and left. Walking towards the small building far off in the corner of the massive underground green house.

Once gone you were left standing there. Unmoving like a puppet without it's puppeteer.

You guess you stood there for too long cause at some point the Leonardo approached and rested his palm on your clothed shoulder. Probably making sure you're still there before his olive palm spirited away.

Hands very much like Donatello's. Too much like Donnie's. The touch made you shutter. You hated it. You hated the jade turtle who did this to you.

Based on the Commander's look you could tell he wanted to ask if you were good. Though the question would be pointless when the answer was as obvious as the dirt that coated the thin fabric of your eggshell colored slip-on flats.

"Sensei why is that weird girl that General Donnie brought only got one eye? Is she a pirate?" Casey Jr inquired not aware of the offensive statement he constructed.

The blue clad leader flicked his retainee's forehead. Lightly punishing the child as he chastised the raven haired boy for the rude question. "Casey Jr that's not how we talk about people. Especially ladies. If you have a question you ask them politely. " The retainer informed. Dark onyx eyes too similar to that of his brainac twin's slid back to your cemented figure.

You were waiting.

With an awkward grin Leo proposed that you join him and Casey Jr on their check up on the Agricultural workers. You didn't respond, just nodding to whatever the aged ninja turtle had suggested.

Around the large farming area that had to be as big, if not bigger than old New York City's Grand Central Station. The red eared slider led you and Casey Jr around as he performed leader duties. The task not being that tedious if it wasn't for the raven haired kinder who wouldn't leave you be. The orphan kept asking too many personal questions for your taste. None of which you responded too. Though that didn't mean it stopped the nine year old from chatting your ear off.

For what felt like forever Casey Jr went on about, everything. There wasn't a single topic he stuck to. Bouncing from asking about how you knew General Donnie to do you always wear pajamas? What was your favorite food? Do you have any parents? What's your favorite game in the rec room?

The kid was gonna be the death of you if not the UVs that were starting to roast you. The faded winter sleeping attire you wore not necessarily the best outfit to be clothed in while under the artificial rays. Though you didn't complain. Didn't want to miss this opportunity to be outside of the technological General's lab.

You weren't ready to go back to the darkness. Not yet.

A single (E/c) colored orb found itself focused on the sudden opportunity presented.

You didn't have to go back as long as you did this right. You could be free. You couldn't fuck this up again. Not again. The anxiety of the looming punishment sat in the back of your mind. Giggling. A child-like tone mocking you for your thoughts of freedom. Reminding you if you escaped something worse could happen. Would happen.

Blood trickled down the (skin tone) surface of your chin. You had accidentally chewed your bottom lip to ground beef with your nervous tick, again.

Using the right sleeve of your pajama shirt you wiped away the oozing crimson fluid.

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" Casey's high but worried voice broke you from your scheming thoughts.

Looking down at Casey Jr's baby checks that had been holding a wide chipped smile instead thinned out into a tight frown. Wide brown orbs innocently peered up at you with concern.

For a moment you didn't reply.

Looking past the apocalyptic born child observing the interaction between Leo and the worker he spoke to. Gageing how much longer you had before the Commander returned from the discussion.

" I'm fine... but, ....do you think you could help me with something Casey? "

°°°°°°°

When his softshell twin asked him if he could watch (Y/n) while he worked on the hydroponic filter pump. The red eared slider was not gonna lie, he was not looking forward to the task. Already having his own gremlin running a muck the last thing the blue clad Commander wanted was a creepy-ass robot following them around.

However whenever it came to Donnie and (Y/n) being involved in the same situation there was hardly room for argument. Leo was the leader of the Resistance he swore that he'd do his best to help end this apocalypse and to do so he needed a functional base. That entailed having a controlled food supply, functioning weaponry, dormitories, facilities— the works. If anything was to go down. The blue bandana wearing mutant only has one reliable individual who could repair, design, modify— you name it. In less time than a whole team of engineers and mechanics he could whip up— combined. Only Donnie could do it. It's cause of the afro mentioned scientist and his inventions that the Krrang hadn't taken them out yet. The aged blue bandana wearing turtle wasn't actually sure how long they could fend off the pink tentacle armada without his softshell twin.

The thought keeps him on edge sometimes— what if the turtle passed or chose not to use his gift the way he does. They'd be screwed in the long run. The turtle imagines it would be similar to that of ant colony walking into a spider's nest. The carnage would be unsalvageable. They'd have to use the last resort.

He couldn't afford for shit to go sideways.

And sometimes if that meant sacrifices... for the greater good so be it. It was something the mutant leader wasn't proud of.

Leo isn't even really sure when the purple clad mutant even met (Y/n) or how. Donnie kept mostly to himself. Never straying far from his lab and a working coffee machine. So the fact the caffine addicted nerd met someone, let alone a girl. Truly made the phenomenon a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes.

He knew what he was doing when Donnie made his ultimatums. It was (Y/n) or no base. The softshell mutant was aware the kind of game he was playing. How it would affect everyone. So many would be lost because the adult ninja turtle wanted to throw a tantrum. Leonardo was ashamed but, it was necessary. He had to give in to the mad scientist's demands. The olive skinned mutant would like to say he had no choice— But he did. And he chose to keep the Resistance alive rather than allowing you to be free. He couldn't. Donnie wanted you and so you were the purple clad General's. There was no room for negotiations. The softshell was always stubborn like that. He played the odds in his favor. He'd let the whole base crumble if it meant he couldn't have you.

And for the last year, that was that.

Leonardo knew that Donatello was keeping you in his lab and that at some point over the last twelve months the workspace began to double as the jade turtle's quarters as well.

Only discovering the new development when visiting his purple color coded brother one day. The blue bandana wearing leader doesn't remember what he had gone to his sibling's work space for but, once inside he found the usual cluttered layout. However off closer to the far wall in the direct line of sight was the (Blonde/Brunette/Raven or Scarlet Haired/ Etc) tribute his brother had demanded for.

This had been when the (e/c) eyed woman still had her own bed. Though at some point after your escape attempt that had been thwarted by Mikey. He remembered because of the presence of the steel restraints that you typically wore when in Donnie's laboratory.

In the corner you were laying down. Hands obviously bound behind your back. The (h/c) haired captive probably scratched her neck raw again. His theory only confirmed upon closer inspection. Beneath the steel collar a dressing of white gauze. Though that wasn't the only injury. Like a Christmas present you were wrapped almost head to toe in the cotton bandages. Most likely caused by other attempts to break free from your bonds which backfired. Resulting in Donnie just further inhibiting your mobility.

Sometimes he doesn't understand why the softshell turtle did what he does. If he loved you, why did he let you hurt yourself like this? The technological General's plan was to rid you of your will. Like the mustang in stables he was gonna break that need to be free. You would be his. The aged purple coded mutant wouldn't accept anything less.

It was creepy how his sciencey twin doted on his feral captive. How even when discussing the condition of the base the crippled mutant still gravitates towards your curled up figure. In spite your attempts to chomp off his jade digits the Donnie still continued to glide his fingers through (h/c) strands. The action was bizarre to the red eared slider. He couldn't relate but if this kept the softshell from throwing the headquarters into the destructive hands of the Krrang. So be it.

Which brings Leo back to the current task at hand. Watching both Casey Jr and his brother's captive as he did his patrols of the agricultural production. He needed to start getting a feel of the ratio amount of crops so he knew how to plan for the Resistance's future. Winter was gonna be coming soon and scavenging in the snow was not an easy feat. Especially with pink tentacle freaks and the assimilated around every lurking corner up on the surface.

Leo was sure that this was gonna be a pain in the shell however to his surprise he found some entertainment out of the one sided conversation Casey Jr was having with you.

Regardless of the lack of your response, the raven haired boy kept bombarding you with rounds of endless questioning. Like twenty-one questions but, with more like five hundred-fifty-five questions. It was hilarious. Many times as he was communicating with his subordinates he would over hear Casey Jr spout something random. Comedic prompting caused the mutant leader to muffle his chuckles on a few occasions. The action earned him a raised brow or two from a couple of agricultural workers.

Everything was fun and games, until it wasn't.

Leo had been strolling down one of the many select rows of dirt walkways onto the next location he needed a report from. He had been listening to his live comedy show when he noticed the lack of quips from his adolescent charge. That's when he peeked over his broad shoulder, only to find nothing but the dirt path beneath his feet. Casey Jr and (Y/n) nowhere to be found.

That's when suddenly shit turned into a real life Lou Jitsu movie with a plot twist that kept the viewer at the edge of their seat. Except for Leo this wasn't a Lou Jitsu movie. He fucked up. Shit wasn't just gonna line up and all his problems would be solved. No. Hot Soup he had to solve this himself. The Resistance Commander gripped the inside pockets of his loose fitted beige pants. A small amount of anxiety rose at the possible implication of the duo's absence meant.

Now the blue clad mutant was aware he was the sharpest tool in the shed but he knew some things. For example, you wanted to leave. Casey Jr knew how to leave the base. Leo taught him in case of emergency if the red eared slider himself or someone else wasn't present to assist the child. Said afro mentioned charge wanted you to respond to his pestering. And the Resistance leader was distracted by the comedic routine and his patrols to notice the disappearance of the two-man comedic troupe he had been chaperoning.

The grown ninja turtle knew what you were doing. If his hypothesis was correct—

You were trying to use Casey Jr to escape.

The blue bandana wearing turtle internally scolded himself for his stupidity. He knew you wanted to escape. He shouldn't have let his guard down just because of your meek unresponsive domineer and his humorous charge.

Donatello was gonna kill him if he didn't find you before the purple clad mutant was finished repairing the pump. Which at this point was any minute.

Taking a deep breath of air Leonardo calmed his startled nerves. The mutated Commander had no reason to stress. He could handle this easily. Reminding himself that he taught Casey Jr how to flee from the base. If that truly was the case this retrieval should be a walk in the park.

Cursing his luck under his breath the olive skinned turtle dashed off in the suspected direction that you and Casey had traveled. Unaware of inky orbs following his brother's retreating figure. Ignorant to the irritated displeasure that burned within the tary pits.

°°°°°°°°

As a kid your mother the ever devoted follower— used to warn you about making deals with demons and wicked imps. They'd offer whatever you wished for just a simple price before snatching away your soul. Never would you ever reach the kingdom in the clouds with her and your brother Ethan(I know so creative). Now adult, you knew that stuff was a crock of shit— but as a starry-eyed child with all the hopes and no crushed self esteem, you believed it. Though now as you traversed through disgusting sewer waste you can honestly say that it was a possibility. How else did you end up in this mess? You rolled the dice with the jade devil and now you couldn't pay.

"(Y/n)? .....Were you even listening?"

Without even realizing it you drifted off into your thoughts again an occurrence that only seemed to become more frequent the longer you stayed in that base. In that lab. With the purple bandana wearing turtle who betrayed your trust.

Hopefully after this you wouldn't have to worry about that mutated swindler ever again.

"Sorry.. I was just thinking about something...could you repeat what you said again?" You asked glancing down at your miniature guide, a tight smile presented on your (skin tone) face. It's been a while since you had to play nice.

It was selfish but, you had no other choice. You'd never have this opportunity again. You only had one way out. No one else was gonna help you. Push came to shove you were willing to do whatever it took to flee from the purple clad demon who wouldn't leave you be.

" Dios miós! I-iii aaasked why you're tryinna' to leave this base? Isn't everyone like, tryinna' to get in the base not out? " The doomsday child inquired. Emphasizing his question with a dramatic arched brow and one big questioning eye. The expression very animated. The kid likely picked up the look from a old salvaged comic from the Resistance headquarters' communal library.

Not prepared for the sudden insightful line questioning from the nine year old who up until now had been just asking whatever seemed to pop into his head.

With a forced grin you replied. "You wish." Teasing the now pouting child before continuing. "Though if you must know. I'm gonna go see some family." You lied releasing a tired exhale as your sole (e/c) orb looked around the seemingly empty canels that Casey was accompanying you through. Claiming that he only knew the way based on the look of the surroundings. How he tells the difference between one gross wall from another gross wall slightly boggled your head. Though if it got you out of this cement prison you didn't care.

For a moment as the two of you walked side by side the raven haired child peered up at you with a squinting gaze as he absorbed your answer. Another cartoonish action that made the corner of your lip slightly curl.

"Hmmmm... Alrighty! I can understand wanting to see your family. I lost my mother when I was young but, Leo and his brothers always make me feel right at home!" The young child perked as he grinned up at you with that wide chipped grin of his.

You missed this type of interaction. No fighting or an obsessive purple bandana wearing turtle lurking. Just two normal people just having a plain conversation. No commands or shifty deals. Just one person leading the other to the long awaiting freedom you've desired.

These interactions with the teddy bear brown eyed boy become more challenging with each quip the child spoke. Insects were drilling into the flesh under your skin again. Burrowing into the empty casket of your missing soul. Thriving on what is left of your sanity as they scuttled around in the memories you didn't want to face.

Somehow peering down at the chubby cheeks and scruffy black hair of Casey Jr's that didn't resemble Ethan in any way— still made you think of your deceased younger sibling.

He had been only eight years old he was the first to go out of your happy family trio. It had happened when the Krrang had first opened their portal. Neither one of you were prepared for the earthquake like shake before the ceiling of your mother's apartment collapsed and crushed the two of you under crumbling rubble. When you came to after pushing crumbled drywall from on top of yourself and searching for your younger sibling. All you found when you searched through broken pieces of your childhood home was blood. You couldn't lift the interior support beam off of where you had presumed Ethan was. The steel was far too heavy and your palms were too coated in the surrounding sediment to be able to lift the remaining pieces. You couldn't do anything. Unable to fulfill the role of the older sibling.

For hours you bawled as you had tried to wait for your mother's return. She had been at work when the Krrang attacked. You never did find out what became of her. You always did hope that she got away and somehow was doing well. Even if the reality is she most likely got assimilated or killed. You still always prayed she was doing good.

You just wanted to see them again. Go back in time and re-live the moments you carelessly spent. Fights and words you wish could be taken back. Reclaim wasted opportunities that you'll never have again. How you wish you could tell them you loved them both one last time.

"(Y/n) were here."

At the sound of Casey Jr's squeaky voice your lone (e/c) orb found presented before it was a waterfall of sludge that spilled over into a thirty-five foot drop. Leading down into what appeared into a bay of the same icky substance rushing past your soaked flats. An

With a cheeky grin the raven haired boy pointed down into the pool below. "This is it, the end of the line for me!" The boy quipped before continuing. "I can't go any further with you but, if you keep following that tunnel down there you should be out of the sewers in no time!" Casey finished with a smirk arms crossed over his tiny chest as he explained the directions. Obviously proud himself for remembering his Sensei's words.

" Thanks... " You grinned awkwardly. Not particularly fond of the idea of swimming through god knows what.

"Goodbye Casey, ...thank you for showing me the out." A small smile grew on your face as you looked back at the nine year old only to see the cause of your nightmares standing silently in the background. Glowing optic reflecting in the shadows like a beast prowling the jungle.

Suddenly the spacious catacomb you've been traversing through didn't have enough air. Your chest clenched tight around the squishy organs encased in your ribs.

"(Y/n) are you alrig—"

"Casey Jr stay back!"

It was Leonardo, already at his charge's side holding back the nine year old from advancing any further into the situation that no longer included them. Donatello already approaching forward with the same air of confidence he always carried. Expression studious and sharp. Although the purple tattooed turtle did not display it— he was fucking furious.

"I should've known you would do this to me, (Y/n). " The General dryly chuckled as he edged closer. Every bold step forward the purple bandana wearing ninja took, the closer your shaking legs stumbled towards the slimy edge of the trash filled waterfall. In his three fingered grip a pair of steel cuffs. The kind you see in the movies except from the look of the bulky things. The ones dangling from Donatello's right hand were real.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck— Things were moving too fast. Your rampaging pumping muscle was going to explode. Panicked breaths filled the range of sound your anxiety allowed at you honed in on the jade demon in front of you.

" I should've never made that deal with you... you lied to me. You knew that my mother was dead— YOU KNEW!" You cried as your lone (e/c) eye flashed back and forth between the cracking edge you stood on and the softshell who stood before you. "You fucking lied to me! You played me just so I would stay! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Panting you learned forward, (skin tone) palms resting on your knees. Never breaking eye contact with the aged turtle who although appeared collected was everything but. Narrowed black eyes filled with so much anger. Though still allowed you continue.

"I... -pant-....will never.. -pant- ..fucking love you. You were a mistake. Any feelings I ever had for you were a mistake. I wish I never had met you. I wish I fucking died when you rescued me on your stupid scrap run those months ago..." Straighten your stature you gave the infuriated jade turtle one last look as you smugly looked him dead in the eye.

"I wish whatever fucked up God had chose to taken General Raph, ....had instead killed you..." You calmly stated. Laughing as you continued. Silent tears finally falling out of your last good eye. " Hahahaha— the only reason— you are soooo important enough to still be alive is because your older brother decided to give his life for all of you sick fucks! I pity his sacrifice— maybe at least if he was still here he would know how to handle shit instead of giving into an overgrown spoiled brat like you!"

Silence. No one made a peep. The only sound that broke through the thick tension in the tunnel was the rushing sound of the sewers water that at this point has successfully drenched the legs of your muck covered plaid bottoms.

In the background the fearless blue bandana wearing Commander's emotions were all laid out on his nonexistent sleeve. He was hurt, pissed, and over all he just looked disturbed with the overall conversation.

Meanwhile Casey Jr shielded his face into his Sensei's plastron. Quite sobs choking the boy as his tiny hands griped onto his Commander's beige pant leg like his life depended on it. Terrified of the situation that didn't make sense to the child. The sight made your heart ache just a little bit.

Donatello didn't say anything. He didn't do anything just bore holes into your soul. You had opened your mouth to continue berating the purple clad asshole who's kept you in his fuckin' lab for the last year. Forced you to sleep next to him. Locked you up like a dog when you tried to run away.

However the jade mutant beat you to the punch.

"Shut up. Don't you dare even say another fucking word. "The aged ninja seethed, closing the space between the two of you in a blink of an eye. His left metal palm shooting to grasp your according bicep, tightening his grip around the tender flesh.

" I don't ever want to ever hear you mention Raph's name ever again. You don't fucking deserve to say it. You're so ungrateful and pathetic it just makes everyone around you laugh at your stupidity. Are you really trying to leave the base? Me? For what? Just so you can go fucking kill yourself out there? I saved you. I'm supporting the human race even when all the facts say I shouldn't. That I should've given up on this stupid apocalypse alooong time ago but, I didn't. I had wanted to when we had crossed paths for the first time. When I rescued you, I changed my mind. Why can't you just be grateful!?!?" Donatello cried as he pushed you from the tunnels edge into the roaring murky waters below.

°°°°°

Beep...beep...beepbeepbeep

There she is.

The softshell will admit he lost a bit of his composure back there. He shouldn't have pushed you from that high of a point but, you just made him so mad. How dare you bring up Raph. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like on that battlefield. There was no winning, only retreat. You don't realize how much he wishes everyday that the one who had perished was himself not Raph. You don't realize. You're always so naive. That's why Donatello was here to keep you safe. It was for your own good.

There.

In the shallow waters was your water logged figure. Obviously you were out cold based off small rise and fall of your chest.

With a sigh, Donatello slid the projected screen from the monitor on his cybertronic arm. Deactivating the tracker that was implanted in your abdomen. Lucky for him had installed this little insurance a long time ago after one of your many fits just for this type of emergency. Finding the gadget handy in locating you both times. Not having to rely on his red eared slider twin's amazing capabilities.

Trekking into the shallow water the purple clad turtle reached down and retrieved your knocked out figure. Not caring particularly much about the condition of his loose dark purple pants that soaked up the surrounding water fairly quickly.

With a strong exhale of air the technological general retreated back to his base chastising you under his breath along the way. Once there the softshell would insure that you wouldn't have another opportunity like this again.

Like a true scientist Donatello learns from his mistakes and he'll keep trying until one of his punishments clicks. It's not like you won't give the techno demon the opportunity to do so. Not that Donatello minds.

After all where would science be without trial and error?

¶¶Creator's notes¶¶

Wazzup!

You guys made this far so you deserve the scoup on the next one-shot will be...

Drum roll🥁🥁

Yan!Future!Raph x Reader 🎉🎉

I don't have a picture for Future Raph but, if you guys have any good pictures saved hit me up I'm always open.

I have some ideas on how I want to do it. Though I could also turn it into a post movie sort of deal. Where it takes place after the events of the ROTTMNT movie. Thouughhh it's up to you guys. One person has already voted for some future Raph so we'll see what I come up with.

[picturejasper20]

Things i do like about Danny Phantom (for a change)

-The art design is pretty solid, even better than some animated series nowadays. -The series has some good soundtrack. I like those tones that play during the title cards -The voice acting is excellent -The backstories of some ghosts, specially in the earlier episodes. -The balance between Danny having clever moments and others having one-half braincell. -Danny Fenton is overall one of the most solid protagonists in animated series from these years you can find. He has an overall fun arc of him growing as character over time. -Vlad Masters in some ways is an excellent villain (with all his problems in writing). He is one of the most iconic Nickelodeon animated series villains. He is also pretty complex, which was unique for its time. -The relationship and foil between Danny and Vlad is very interesting. Vlad was literally designed to be a contrast to Danny, having a trio of friends just like Danny before the accident that turned him into a ghost. -Valerie Gray is one of the best written characters in the show without doubt, in spite of barely showing up later half of the show. Her enemy to lovers relationship with Danny is one of the best parts of the series. -Jazz Fenton character overall. She is another of the best written characters and she has good arc. Her sibling relationship with Danny is well developed. -Sam and Tucker can have some fun interactions/scenes. -Danny having his parents being ghosthunters is a cool element in the show that allows for juicy scenarios. -Maddie and Jack being a (mostly) healthy loving married couple -How Jack and Maddie used to be Vlad's friends back in college and how that is tied to his backstory. Their dynamic is offers a lot of ideas to work with. -My Brother's Keeper is peak episode. -Season 1 has plenty of peak moments/episodes. -Dan is a great antagonist. He is a lot more interesting version of the ¨evil clone¨ trope since his character and backstory is more than just that. -Vilains-antagonists from this series are usually entertaining. -The dark shit the series was often allowed to get with for a Nickelodeon show and for those years. -Also some of the adults jokes the series was allowed to get away too -I do like the idea of Freakshow being a human antagonist that can control ghosts. I wish the serie could have had more human vilains/antagonists. -I do appreciate the series trying to explore Danny's classmates in a few episodes or them helping out.