#I’m actually almost done with the first comic chapter

[haliaiii]

Oc posting pt 1

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

the counterpart

chapter 3 — and there’s affection to rent

rating: explicit. i’m sensing a smut chapter approaching.

word count: 2,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

cw: 90s au. they’re still playing chess, drinking, smoking, cussing, fucking (not yet, but eventually) and doing all the things you’re not allowed to read about if you’re not old enough. this chapter is just… pure dialogue and (not so subtle anymore) sexual tension, and i finally revealed their majors (took me long enough). consider this part a teaser. yeah.

ao3 link

part 4

—

What’s the most important thing one learns in college if their major is painfully tasteless? Especially if said one is a lost girl — all ambitions, but no actual possibilities, kidneys so done with your rebellious acts of liquor consumption they might fail you much earlier than they did Bobby Fisher?* 

Your professors taught you how to come up with an intriguing title. How to make sure your column is the most eye-catching on the whole page. How to journal properly, and how to not be a pussy when you’re interviewing someone hard-talk style — taught you how to bend over people and for people.

Those were petty things. Undoubtedly crucial for your education, yet still petty. They didn’t teach you how to live. They just made you sleazy and more sleep-deprived. The first trait could still be put to a good use, though. 

But college? Oh, college taught you how to live. Not the beautiful concept of being a part of it, but the campus itself, specifically the dorms — your self-proclaimed, crude lectors. They showed you everything you needed to know: from friendly faces coated in thick smoke on the tiny balcony, to sweaty ones, all rolled out tongues and glassy eyes — the disgusting art of bathroom quickies. 

But most importantly?

College taught you there are five types of men you have to stay away from: bishops, knights, rooks, cowards (kings) and pawns (your favorite ones to devour). 

Bishops are mouthy. They’re harsh — vile, even. Greedy heartbreakers, easily irritable when something refuses to get out of their oblique, grabby path. Mediocre in bed: unnecessary rough, redundantly rude in dirty talk. Terrified of any feeling that doesn’t involve hatred or malice. Smartasses (in a bad way). Pass. 

Knights are immature. They have potential — a contentious one, to be frank, yet it’s still there, slightly palpable in their endless promises and occasional gentlemanly habits. They’re deeply insecure — self-conscious, even, always underestimating their power. A good base for raising the perfect partner — if only you have the patience to spare, that is. Not as unbearable in bed as the previous category. Sometimes they cook great breakfast the morning after.

Rooks are superior. Straightforward, yet humorless; good listeners, yet awful comforters — oh that constant lack of the golden mean, the complete inability to lie. They’re reliable, but not fun to sleep with. Not fun to date either — it’s almost like these men paired for life, invariably with someone as insufferably stable as their stoic demeanor. You still liked them though; but only as a rare, handsome dainty — an audience perfectly suited for your drunken monologues. 

Kings and pawns are not worthy of being elaborated on. Skittish and obedient, former ones too selfish in bed, ladder ones too pathetically down bad. Finita la commedia. 

In conclusion: one should play with those pieces, yet strictly avoid committing to them — to save the tears when you make an invariable sacrifice. 

That thought spun inside your head — doomed and stupidly petulant, recycling itself slowly to a flavourless overchewed gum on the convex surface of your tongue, persistently threatening to jump out of your mean mouth any second. You wondered — shamefully, with an almost shy tredipation, — how would Viktor react to this  incredible wisdom of your creation, how comical — or plausible, perhaps? would he find this metaphorical conclusion to be? 

But you refrained from revealing it to him just now. No, you couldn’t care less about invoking a potential little discussion — not when he’d just returned to the still equipped with a chess board desk, and certainly not when your hand was settled so perfectly into the tender grasp of his. A set of longer, paler fingers twined oh so cautiously around your wrist, securely preventing it from any occasional twitches. Tending to your wound with special gentleness — as if he was constructing a fragile weapon, a thing dangerous enough to explode all over the place if he treats it with something bolder than a ghost of a touch. So concentrated: he pressed the tiny piece of cotton to the bloody mess under what once used to be your nail; shushing you softly when you flinched, feeling the saline lance right through the weak digit. 

“Stay still for me, would you?” Viktor frowned, carving an angry little stroke into the back of your palm — a firm affection just for you to giggle about. The ambience around him didn’t resemble the one libraries usually possess anymore. It was an appointment now, and you adored the way he turned the place into a makeshift clinic with just a few quickly grabbed from the pharmacy trinkets. 

“For you?” you pulled a taunt — an innocent one, yet utterly unsubtle in its intentions. 

“Well, I’m your doctor,” he wreaked vengeance with a playful protest, elegantly twisting your implication. A reciprocation, of sort; a playful thing returning every single one of your tortuous undertones. “It’s only natural that you listen to the professional’s recommendations.” 

He wasn’t clueless anymore. He wanted to proceed. He begged to proceed, actually; grazed your forearm approbatory and dull, then dared to crawl into the sleeve of your shirt. Just the briefest presence of fingertips under the cloth — peak intimacy only a library could provide. 

“But I’m not quite deceased yet, and last time I checked — you were a mortician,” — a shot back, witty and precise. Had him chuckling warmly as you raised your head, allowing the copper to meet your irises with a playful tingle. 

“Believe me, I can be versatile,” Viktor assured, only giving you half a tease to work with, to unravel. Submitting his gentle touch and returning to the medical one instead, carefully pulling out a patch out of his pocket after a short session of rummaging around.

“Oh, I already figured that much,” you allowed him to lead — both literally and figuratively, careless about the way he victoriously pointed out the flush on your face — barely as crimson as the disaster he cleaned up for you, yet still pleasantly noticeable. 

That boy was no usual rook, knight or bishop of yours. Needless to mention something as fearful as a pathetic king.

There was something slightly pawn-like about him though — but you didn’t hate it like you normally would. You didn’t mind a little submission. You adored it. You wanted him at your mercy. Erotically so, to be precise. As if him wrapping a patch around your swollen finger isn’t erotic enough already.

Although it wasn’t mercy that made him care for you. 

It was tenderness. A thing all the five-types-one-should-avoid were not capable of on their own. 

Viktor broke the silence with a strangled little cough. 

“It might ruin your nail-polish,” he warned, eyes flickered between you and already tinted with a humble red spot patch. 

“As if there’s any nail left to apply the polish to,” you hissed, wincing at the sharp sensation stinging that sensitive piece of skin — no doubt staining the fresh little rag even more. Viktor tried to ease your suffering with an almost friendly pat on your shoulder. 

What a way to ruin the eroticism. 

“A tragedy, if you ask me,” he whispered, short and sweet, with a contrite little sigh, “you messed up a perfectly nimble hand.” 

“You don’t know the first thing about compliments, do you, Viktor?” you pricked back, harmless and waggish; a careless, erratic thing, — already too far gone to stop those lively amber eyes from scanning you with terrified unease: had he said something stupid? Had he failed in humoring you? 

You pulled him firmly straight out of the paralysis of his distress, fingers yanked gently at his to put them — now skittish and a little tense — back into an intertwinement with yours, demanding they linger there, safe and tender. 

“I’m getting there,” he budged, slowly growing less fidgety against your touch, “Forgive me, I’m yet to master the art of courting.” 

“I’m fucking with you,” you reminded handily. Watched him form a theatrical little scoff, but his teeth betrayed him, leaping out in an impish smile. 

“Of course you are. You journalists love to torment people,” Viktor nodded, slightly tickling the underside of your palm with a relaxed swipe of a thick-skinned thumb. 

You didn’t take it personally. You didn’t fancy your major enough to get defensive. 

You didn’t question how exactly he found out about it either. His answer — tanned, handsome and talkative — was most likely rotting in bed right now, still half-alive from his birthday black-out even though it’s been literal days. Besides: if Viktor were to ask how did you find out that he’s an exceptional future engineer or that he’s a winner of multiple open chess championships — you’d send him straight back to Jayce too. The source was obvious. 

“You know what I’m majoring in? Did you make a dossier of my poor persona?” you chose that torment instead. At his service, you gave the man precisely what he’d requested.

A thoughtful one, a pretty disgrace at his whim. 

He should’ve been more careful with his desires. 

“You’re not a project of mine to keep a dossier for you,” he reproached smoothly. “Unless…” his tongue clicked in thick suspense, “you’d allow me to make one. For collecting kompromat, of course — a procedure every opponent should adhere to.” 

“Kompromat?” 

“Yes, kompromat,” Viktor confirmed, unaltered. 

“But I’m innocent,” — a cheeky lie, blatantly obvious. Had him squeezing your hand to prevent you from sliding out of his grasp, all too tight for a man that shrinked into a handsome flustered mess at your first attempt to crawl under his pale skin. Perhaps he simply took his sweet time in comprehending that he’s allowed to be vengeful. 

“A cruel woman, mercilessly flirting with her opponents to bribe them into resignation?” he deadpanned, evidently pleased with a newly established privilege of savoring your touch for however long he pleased. “What’s innocent about that?” 

“I’m not trying to bribe you into resignation!” you sneered, now defensive. Pulling away to watch him sigh at the loss of you in his palm — but he didn’t chase after you. Viktor backed off, bitter and respectful, leaving you with just the aftermath of his touch and a blood-stained patch tightly wrapped around your phalanx. 

“You‘re not?” he whispered, suddenly reminded of the library’s policies. 

You soothed him with a nod, following the trajectory of his wandering eyes. Pushing the amused hum back into your mouth as Viktor forced his sleeve to roll up, exposing a worn down watch. Apparently also reminded that he does not, in fact, belong just to you this Friday. 

“I would use more… radical methods if I aimed to bribe you into anything at all,” you laughed out a raspy sound, no doubt feasting upon the way he stirred, wrapping that food for thought with him to go. 

“How reassuring,” he murmured back, brushing his upper lip in a pensive, fleeting lick, eyes darting to your still full of unfinished business board. 

“You’re leaving?” you mumbled rhetorically, hating just how desperate that came out. 

“I’m afraid so, yes,” Viktor mused, reluctantly grabbing the clocks he brought with him, “but I still have to show you the draw. If only we could arrange another meeting.” 

“But we weren’t recording our moves,” you groaned at the silly oversight, watching him rise heavily to his lanky legs, stretching above you into a tall pretty sight. “I don’t trust my memory to that extent.” 

“Well, I do,” he objected, nestling his hand into the arched hilt of his cane, preparing to leave you — lonesome and terribly lacking his calming presence — in the legendary place of your duel. Making a bitter, sad-eyed mess out of you — a devastated subject abandoned in the filled with the smell of yellow pages air. 

But you weren’t exactly known for your unlimited patience. If anything, it was the other way around — you wanted him to indulge you now, to turn on those heels of his and sink back down in his squeaky chair, letting you devour his genius as fervently as you pleased — oh the price you’d pay to dive into his mind, to watch him think, and defeat, and conquer. 

“How does your schedule look on Sundays?” you uttered before your restless brain got the chance to turn it into an overthinked burden. A brave one — you had your eye on him and were determined to make it abundantly clear. 

And Viktor, albeit still discreet, was determined to reciprocate. 

“Normally — not eventful,” he laughed, delaying his departure to spare you one more sweet glance, “but this Sunday I’m playing chess with a remarkably persistent lady. As long as she’ll have me, of course.” 

He gawked at you with the repartee of a complete wiseacre, and you flinched with a giddy giggle, secretly hoping he’d emphasized that last part — or somehow specified it to prevent your mind from spiraling into all the different ways you could have him in. Oh the bitter consequences of being a smartass: sass is contagious and you poisoned him with it, dooming whatever boundaries and clarity this man had possessed before making your acquaintance. 

But it also meant the world was now your oyster. And you took the opportunity by its slender, practically paper-white neck — so far only figuratively, but you wouldn’t be opposed to turning it into something gentle and tangible: if only he consented to it, of course.

“Sunday it is, then. My room, if you’re comfortable?” you suggested, pushing it half-cowardly. 

“I’m not allowed in that part of the dorm,” he marveled at the bold offer, yet his response didn’t imply any objections. 

“And you intend to stick to that?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Then it wasn’t even worth mentioning. Room 505, it’s the one on the second floor…”

“What if I get lost?” 

“Say my name to any freshman-looking girl and they’ll walk you straight to my very door.” 

“Do you have a reputation I should worry about?” 

“Do you ever stop asking irrelevant questions?” you finally snapped, two steps away from turning a gentle neck-grip you fantasized about earlier into a cold-blooded murder in the middle of a college library. “I write essays to earn extra-cash, if you’re that curious. People around the campus know me. Now, back to more urgent matters: please, don’t show up before ten in the morning. No, scratch that — eleven is even better. I like to sleep in on Sundays.” 

Viktor listened to you carefully — with the perception of a responsible server, almost ready to scribble down your every complex instruction, only lacking a salute and a devoted ‘yes, ma’am’ to complete the procedure. 

“It’s been a while since I looked forward to play someone,” he’ll confess to you on his way out of the building, failing to hold that shy thing in the unreliable prison of his gritted teeth, leaning on that thin cane with the whole heavy essence of his trembling audacity. A test he dared to run only before slipping away from that wide-eyed state of yours, escorted by a row of now painfully familiar to you clacks of metal against the concrete. 

And later, when that hot summer day will slowly melt into a hot summer night; when you’ll abandon the comforter of your bed to stick out of the window, half-naked and positively enraged; when you’ll smoke your third cigarette of the hour to tame the riot of aroused nerves — you’ll think about him, and about chess, and about the things chess made you want to do to him. 

—

notes: 

*Bobby Fisher — a grandmaster, the only American chess player to defeat soviet players at the time. Died of kidney failure at the age of 64. 

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @thehistoriangirl @queen-of-elves @vyshnevska

[kosmicdream]

The FATE of FEAST FOR A KING

.. and Nasty Red Dogs… 

And some other miscellaneous thoughts about comics, writing, and time.... AND ENDINGS...

============= 

As I’m approaching 10 years on FFAK and NRD is currently 5, I’ve been reflecting a lot on How far this journey with comics has taken me and how far I still have yet to go. For those unaware, my first webcomic was actually Eggshells, which started in 2011, but i only started posting pages publicly in 2013. It too is unfinished, but its planned for 7 chapters. (I’m currently working on chapter 5, which probably will come out early next year.) I have 9 ongoing comics I’m working on. NINE!! 3 of those are FFAK related. (FFAK, After Dinner Treat, and the prequel series “Help.”) It is so many comics though. And beyond that! I have two other stories I’ve been working on for the past few years in secret, one being Nice Blue Cats, which I might still draw as a comic someday.. As well as a series of “one shots” that is meant to be its own collection. Slugmom and “The Teacher & The Fairy” are part of these one shot collections. Which, uh, it was designed to help me practice writing short stories. Which TT&TF is now going to be three parts long, and roughly 300 pages. So I guess that’s short enough…? Ha.. laughs… Anyway, as I was saying.. Sometimes I’m sure, readers might wonder. “Do you ever feel overwhelmed, with so many projects Kosmic?” Yeah dude. I sure fucking do. I got 9 of them! That’s more than a full pokemon team of projects that are potentially a decade + of work. A couple of them already are a decade old/older at this point. (Praeymoon is actually one of my oldest-lasting projects, even tho its first chapter only finally released in 2023.. I first attempted to draw ch1 back in 2016, but was unable to finish it and scrapped the “full color” angle i was trying then. ) All my current ongoing comic projects are as follows: Feast for a King, Nasty Red Dogs, Eggshells, The Teacher & the Fairy, Replacer, The Eyes of Miasma, FFAK: After Dinner Treat, FFAK: Help, are all written. The only one which isnt fully written is Praeymoon, which I don’t mind because the way that story is organized is almost more of a sandbox-fantasy world of mini stories. I’ll be honest, if you havent heard of Replacer or The Eyes of Miasma, I don’t blame you- its not that i don’t like those stories. They just kind of are the “most neglected” comics yet I’m also kind of amazed they exist at all, like I DONT know how I found the time to draw over 100 pages for both of them. They also have fully written outlines and all things considered, are probably only going to be under 400-500 pages in length. But that’s still a decent amount of work there. Its been ten years since I more or less started making webcomics… and as I plan, and try to calculate all my projects for the next 10 years, my main priority at the moment is well.. Finishing all of these fucking stories one way or another. Its hard! I don’t know if I can as I put way too much on my plate. But at the same time like.. Whatever. I could easily drop most of them, if I felt inclined to - but I don’t. They are my library of work, and I’ve sort of made an artist oath to myself that I will see as many of them to the end as I can. I’m excited that three are very close to its end. (Nasty Red Dogs, The Teacher & the Fairy, and Eggshells.) After that well.. I’ll see what I can cross off my list next once I get there.. That’s still going to take years to get those done. But hopefully not too many. 

[Spoilers for potential LENGTHS of FFAK/NRD.. And other things.. I speak very transparently about writing and working on comics here AND including my thoughts on ENDINGS.. You’ve been warned]

I’m comfortable enough sharing that the fairy comic is 3 parts, Eggshells is 7 chapters, but when it comes to FFAK/NRD.. Its much harder to give an estimate, or if sharing those things will only be disappointing or annoying to hear about.. If you have ever been around me for more than 10 minutes, i am constantly talk about the “length left” on these projects a lot anyway. At night, i count them in my head. In the day, I write little lists as if I’ve forgotten the names of them.. They are MY LIST.

 But for those who do not know and wish to, NRD is likely going to end with 10 chapters. I have extended this in the past, so it could still change.. but it only really has gotten “longer” due to pacing of scenes rather than the actual content. And Honestly, it was paced out specifically to avoid this next chapter. Not that I didn’t want to draw it, its because i was Scared to do it.. Why? Because there’s cars I have to draw in it. And dogs. I have drawn those things before, at least once or twice. But I do not enjoy drawing cars or dogs. Dogs are okay now, but i hate that they have legs. Dont give me references, i have those. Its just how my brain is, with those fuckign legs and how there’s four of them. I know practice makes perfect. Or do-able. I have drawn amost 1000 pages of NRD, i dont remember how they bend and i’ve forgiven myself for knowing there’s just some things god cannot do, which is to give kosmic the ability to look at a dog leg and understand. Anyway. Because of this reason, somehow, finishing NRD with it only possibly being 4 more chapters, still feels harder than finishing ALL of FFAK - which (drumroll) might be .. only around 10 or 12 chapters left. Yes, you heard me- for the second AND third arc. 10 or 12 more. Will that also change? Probably!!!!!! Like, yes… its been 9 years and I’ve completed a lot more than just 10 chapters of comics in that time.. But wrapping up a story is way harder and I dont know what that’s like..yet! But i feel still confident that i will. I mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to experience it. I used to recoil and fall apart just emotionally contemplating finishing FFAK. my FUCKING baby. My joy. You mean that has to end?? NEVER. My attachment to it and the characters was incomparable to anything else I had done, and in my mind ever WILL make… (and that is still true.) But.. I’m okay with that now and I actually look forward to seeing how it could end up. Even if its bad! 

Its kind of weird to say, I just don’t really think it will be.. super good? Like.. it could be? I don’t know how readers will react. I dont even know how I feel about the whole thing.. I have felt so many feelings about this comic already, now I’m kind of.. Past it in a new stage. Zen like peace almost. There’s just.. so much that I wanted to PUT in FFAK and so much i could STILL put in. But I kind of just am okay with what i wrote, does that even make sense? The whole comic has felt like such a fluke to me, from the very start. And I managed to accidentally make so many great things in it I don’t actually understand sometimes. And my dreams for the comic has been nearly limitless. I couldn’t possibly contain all the feelings I’ve had over this story over the many years I have been making it, and all the incredible narrative outcomes I could see the characters going in.. the possibilities, the parallels.. The anime music videos..  I would NOT compare my writing style to GRRM, I haven’t read his books. but I can’t help but feel a bit like a weird baby version of him with the amount of cast members I have to push around and draw.. And I want to be clear. If FFAK was written as a book, it wouldn’t happen. I cannot write books. I do not think writing books is easier/faster than making comics, but sometimes it is hard to have to draw everyone. Point is, I understand the reality of a long-term comic project now, I have numbers and logs to prove it  and my range. And I’m fairly consistent, even in my low days. So.. in recent years my writing style has.. has changed to accommodate.. Those.. General Realities i’ve observed in myself. 

That’s why the second arc excites me. It has a lot of uhh, urgency that underlies it. You might have already noticed a change in the tone in chapter 16, which I’ve been working on for almost a year now. (I mean, I’ve been working on the written version for.. LOL.. much longer.) Maybe you haven’t! It could all just be from my own POV with how differently i feel that I delegate time to characters now. I did not start “writing” FFAK until chapter 10, and then i did not really start WRITING writing ffak until about.. Honestly, i want to say as late as 2019. It TOOK SO LONG you guys. I dont even know how many fucking thousands of pages of madness word documents I’ve got, with revision after revision and trying to list, contain, every possibly plotline… character backstory.. Blah blah blah.. Ive cut it down so much its impressive only to me. I don’t remember my lore anymore , and i love it. My readers probably know my lore better, and I don’t love it. Except when it benefits me. Then Its good. I would not describe myself as a RUTHLESS cut THROAT author, im actually too way sentimental to really let go of anyone. That’s why it took me so long to kill off Rock, but also because I wanted spoon to look really sexy and evil and that’s hard to do sometimes when I cant remember what half side he is. And when he was flipping around, I had to actually make a paper doll for him so i could TRY .. TRY to draw his arm on the correct side. Sometimes I didn’t. I just let it go if the drawing is good enough and i let it be a fun game for the readers to catch. But anyway, That’s why characters like Aeschylus are still around. Now that time has passed, I kind of regret it. Rome was right.. I dont need Aeschylus here and I’m mad he brought his friend Randall too. That being said, they’re some of my favorite characters in this arc even if they’re totally useless. In general, i have tried my best to not repeat all my writing sins and all my regrets of arc 1. I would not have been able to do this without the help of NRD to help get me to see that I can get attached and motivated to write new stories. When I hit my writing block in 2016/2017, it almost broke FFAK. FFAK still continued, but it also didn’t. But i was patient, and i worked through it.. And now I look forward to the ends of my comics, not because I want them to end but I’m very deeply excited for all the new opportunities my imagination to go to. I don’t know what that will be like. I don’t know how long it will still take me to get there, but I have it on [digital] paper and it does feel good to see that. Its affirming. I feel like i have a clear mission and I feel strong enough to really do it and commit to it. The second arc has barely started but in my heart I’ve made peace with the ending, whatever it might actually result as. 

Plus if I finish it and its so bad, I’m sure that will be inspiring in itself! People might actually write fanfics!! I think a lot of readers are NOT going to enjoy the ships, for one. The MEAN greedy part of me hopes they don’t. That’s the most ruthless part of my writing to me is the ship choices. Oh! My evil mind. I mean theres no possible way to please everyone, or even myself, but there is a possible way to displease a lot of people. Including myself. So that’s kind of the route I find myself drawn to. Why? Because it gets me out of the hole of like.. I dunno, being stuck. 

I used to write out a lot of big posts but over the years, I’ve kinda stopped. Mostly bc they were honestly really repetitive..or about lore that didn’t truly matter too much… That hasn’t really changed. This post is more or less “im still working on it, everyone! Just hang tight! Wow it’ll be a crazy wild ride” but it also is something I wanted to write to myself as words of encouragement. This has been a tough year. Like so tough that its hard to think about. But its very nice to feel like, i guess, my drive for my stories hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, i really feel like i’ve gone through the mourning and ego death of “not being able to write a thing how you want” and now I’ve made total peace with it. Its just gonna be what it is, and I like that actually. When my life is tough, my comics at the moment serve as a place of hope for me - and assurance that I can survive through tough years. That’s the message they have ultimately given me, finished or not. And… I honestly don’t think of FFAK or NRD as my masterpieces or anything, but i know they might very well be the only stories people will know of when they think of me. If they think of me! So I wanna do a complete job with those. Rest assured, it’ll get there. I cant make big promises about all the comics I work on… even the bonus comics for FFAK, but at least those main two are my main priorities. That has not changed. THE FIRE is still in me. Even if FFAK took a like.. Mental.. 5 year hiatus its back baby. 

I’m about 30 pages in to my 50 page script for chapter 16, so I guess it’ll be around 300-400 pages more before its done. Things are picking up speed! So it could be less. I am also preparing for the monster that is the 7th nasty red dogs chapter. I cannot stress ENOUGH that this next chapter, I have put off since chapter 4. Yes, I’ve actually buffed the story out to be longer than it intended, just to avoid drawing it. I even put a horse guy in there, I never draw horses because those ALSO have legs but they’re worse than dog legs. And, its not that i didn’t want to draw this part of the comic! But I didn’t think i could do it. It intimidated me. It still does, but, I’m gonna do it already. I know chapters 8-10 will be hard too but like…eh… I know in my heart its gonna really be about 7 for me. It always has been about 7 to me.. 2024 will be a big year for my comics for sure, just because of that alone I think. Not only will I have chapter 16 done, as the first step of the 2nd arc and a new adventure of my apocalyptic wormy drama, I’ll be facing my fears of the dog variety. Its TIME. 

I’m so happy people have stuck around for my work, or shared it with others, even if they’re a strange mess. Its interesting to see, who comes and goes. I still enjoy refreshing my comments every morning when I wake up, and right before I go to bed. Its comforting.

My closing thoughts on this. I don’t HATE the ending of FFAK. I… like it! Its an ending. But I LOVE the ending to NRD. i think that ones legit good, i hope. With FFAK, part of me kinda hopes that turning up the pressure on myself of proceeding anyway will help the story. I don’t really know, or expect the ending to change though LOL…. Maybe i’ll come up with something better, but it will be too late so I cant do it or something, and then we can ALL write fanfics together of something else. Then sometimes I think about GUNNM and how the first ending was retconned but then last order was like? Basically the first ending again? I dont know actually, its hard to remember. THATS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN BTW. Also the ending is not everyone dies, even though that ending is fun and tempting. I didn’t do it, because end of evangelion already exists and its got a great song to go along with it too. YES it is also tempting to have someone go “WELL That was A FEAST.. For a KING” as the like final line, but I.. it wont wont. I prommy i take the ending seriously.

The reason I wanted to write all this, with webcomics, I think in general too people are so scared about writing their big comics that take 328523895235 years and the ending being bad. I see so many webcomics just, kinda die before the finale.. Which I totally understand, But I just.. Wanna show everyone that its much better and much more satisfying to just write the ending even if its a fucking disaster LOL. Because ultimately, its a webcomic. I don’t even know how to spell but people read mine! And so.. If theres anything I feel like i can promise and deliver to the world of the internet/my readers, is this big fucking disaster mess.. But it will end someday! And I’ll miss it. I hope readers will too, when that day comes (?) in probably another… 10 years…. idk.... BUT UNTIL THEN.. I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of chapter 16!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Kosmic Dream

[rockinlibrarian]

Post-Umbrella Academy S4 Reaction Part One: Reacting More to the Fandom than the Show (only vaguely spoilery)

I would like to state for the record that I enjoyed The Umbrella Academy Season Four. I had plenty of issues— things that weren’t to my taste, abandoned or neglected plot or character threads, plot contrivances and wasted opportunities— and I wasn’t satisfied with the ending AT ALL (it COULD have worked if done…completely differently?)—but I enjoyed myself, minus the downer at the very end (and I mean VERY end, I was hoping for more post-credit redemption than we got, and that could’ve fixed it for me). It’s like that post I reblogged this morning goes— there’s enjoyment, there’s in-universe sense, and there’s art-of-storytelling sense, and they can all stand separately.

I’d love to chew over the stupid bits and gush over the brilliant bits, but it’s kind of hard right now, because so much of the reactions online are not, well, objectively balanced discussions? People’s issues erased any of the enjoyment, and now the whole thing is trash and I think we all agree this never happened.

I’m not writing this post to call anyone out for that. All our reactions are valid. It just feels like the angry voices drown out the other voices, and it’s made me uncomfortable, and that is ALSO a valid reaction to have, so I just want to put my voice out there, too.

The weird thing about me and The Umbrella Academy is that this is the first fandom where I’ve ever been more invested in fanworks of it than in the original show (and in the comics, not at all. Though I still want to see Viktor and Diego start a punk band). So I think that’s why I’m not Ragey. I wouldn’t say I COMPLETELY didn’t care what happened in the show, but I know that there’s a thousand other AUs of it out there ALREADY. So I honestly went into it almost as if reading a fic of it. In fics there are inevitably interpretations I don’t agree with, ships I don’t care for, things I would have done differently, but the writer loves the same characters as me so let’s see where they go.

And then I leave a comment about all the positives. “Oh, I love what you’ve done with Viktor!” (I won’t MENTION that I think you should have let him get back into music and spend a LOT more time with Five, because it’s not my story, and hey, you have done some LOVELY, thoughtful things with one of the characters that is dearest to me so let me tell you that in this comment!) “I’m REALLY enjoying your Allison-and-Klaus partnership, we don’t see enough of that but it’s so obvious in retrospect that they should be friends. They probably bonded over fashion as children when Viktor was like ‘Sorry Allison you know I REALLY DO want to be friends with you but I JUST DON’T GET IT’.” (I am thinking about how you never really resolved the huge emotional thread between Allison and Viktor in your last chapter, but that’s not what we’re talking about here). “This is admittedly not my ship, but you’ve successfully captured my own beliefs about HOW this character would behave in this situation” (shouting out to @stephsageek for that one, who did it, and did it well, before canon even thought to attempt to. ;) ) I could write lots more in my theoretical Comment on “Season Four of the Umbrella Academy” on AO3, but I don’t want to be too spoilery in this post and I’m just being metaphorical.

Honestly, I’m more upset now after a day of discourse than I was about the ending, and I think it’s because I’m afraid of people rage-abandoning the fandom. Because Legion, the show that started me on Seriously Writing Fanfic, was a mess after season 1. I personally didn’t enjoy MOST of season 2, but I DID enjoy season 3 even though so much of it made no sense, and I can rant about it (Legion did a variation on the same terrible ending as TUA, actually! I have to say that the emotional beats were handled better, but the plot itself was way way stupider). But I didn’t start writing fic until after the dreaded (but not without redeeming qualities) season 2, when quite a lot of people had given up on the show. I’ve written fix-its, mostly ones that embellish on the canon of the later seasons, fixing it without actually throwing it away. I’ve been playing in the whole sandbox for six years now, and “Magic Man of Oz” uses like every grain of sand in it, and it’s my favorite fic I’ve ever written, and I am genuinely sad about all the people who rage-quit that show so will never read it. I am mostly sad that the person who got me on AO3 to begin with abandoned the Legion fandom the moment they finished their epic How Season Two Should Have Ended fic (or before— pretty sure the last few chapters were written with gritted teeth determination to just be Done with the whole thing) and so THEY never read “Magic Man of Oz.” And they were my biggest cheerleader when I started posting fanfic! Honestly, is this whole paragraph just me freaking out about TUA fandom just because not enough people read a fic of mine from a different fandom that was fairly cult to begin with? It might be. Sorry. I apparently have issues?

(That first sentence is really the thesis statement of this post now. The moment I wrote it, I reread it and said, "Oh. THAT'S what's happening with me, isn't it?" My 11th grade research writing teacher is yelling at me in my head to move the dang thesis statement to earlier in this essay, but too bad, this is Tumblr).

I can’t help comparing Legion and TUA, not least because the latter only got bumped up my watch list by someone describing it as “Legion-Lite”— and it really is, in so many ways! But they’re also my top two most-written-for fandoms, and I’ve been toying with a crossover or two— which I feel even more compelled to write now, because it’s post-canon for both shows (even though both shows claim there IS no post-canon— I have found the way!) And it honestly helped ME emotionally to accept the end of TUA when I could immediately say, “OH, well actually, that flows right INTO how I was already going to start working-title A Legion of Umbrellas!” I originally started this paragraph in parenthesis because it seemed like an aside, but it’s really not, because all I’m saying is fanfic flows eternal! and so forth.

So, hi, out there. Just letting out my feelings and hoping someone out there feels the same way (maybe not about Legion— I keep TRYING, but can’t find any takers), and I may still write a more detailed and spoilery reaction post to the show ITSELF, but I had to get this off my chest first.

[floatingcatfeature]

hey y’all this is my coming out post, i’m making a comic that is a zombie au of falsettos! i already have the first chapter written and the second chapter is almost done being written !! idk if anyone would actually be interested in it, but it’s my two special interests so i’m really excited to share it when i’m finished 🙂🙂

[sincerely-sofie]

Twig is my response to replaying PMD2 for the nth time and getting upset with how dry the Hero feels in comparison to the other characters! I’m really enjoying how she’s turning out, so I thought I’d share a little bit about my blorbo OC in case anyone reading my silly little comics is interested.

She’s a charmander— the reason for this is less because that’s what an internet quiz told me the personality I wanted for her would be, and more because the thought of “haha what if the leaf lizard’s bestie turned into fire lizard” grabbed me by the throat and would not release me until I declared it to be official.

The flame at the end of her tail is supposed to resemble a maple leaf in autumn as an additional nod to her grass-type buddies.

She nicknamed her partner, a mudkip, Kip. Kip the mudkip. She panicked and now she’s stuck calling him this because he absolutely loves it.

(Kip had a huge crush on her throughout their entire apprenticeship at the guild. She has no inkling that this was ever a thing. Grovyle's unable to believe someone would ever like him in a romantic way and Twig is no different.)

The gal's just a horrible little shambling mess of neuroses exclusively kept intact by the fear of submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

She’s 12-ish by the first chapter of the game and is just barely entering her 20s by the end of the post-game.

While she doesn't realize this thanks to her amnesia, Grovyle grew up way too fast in order to keep her alive, and she felt awful about this in the Dark Future. She tried to be as helpful as possible to take the burden off of his shoulders— or at least as helpful as an eight-year-old could be to a teenage magical gecko. Seven years later, by the start of the game, neither of them had an actual childhood despite both of their efforts to provide that for the other.

As a result of the previous bullet point, despite not being cognizant of the reasoning behind it, Twig has a thing about being a burden. She is convinced she is an awful burden on everyone at all times, and she is constantly scrambling to be sufficiently valuable in order to cancel out this burdensomeness— and she does this without ever even considering the idea that she could be a positive presence. She can only be neutral at best and negative at worst— in her eyes, at least.

(Are there therapists in Treasure Town? Asking for a friend)

Grovyle named her Twig! She had a human name at one point, but she never told it to Grovyle after running away from the hidden bunker of humans she once called home. With all her memories of her past erased, including those of her original name, it’s lost to time.

She's almost completely unable to read at the start of the game, and is only able to recognize a handful of footprint runes: Time, Avoid, Future, Past, Travel, Passage, Gear, Twig, Grovyle, and Celebi. She's weirded out by being able to read the name on Grovyle's wanted poster and ferret out that he’s wanted for stealing time gears without help.

(She learned these by trying to read the plans that Grovyle and Celebi would write in the dirt as they navigated the Dark Future and plotted out their rebellion.)

She jokingly stanned Grovyle before Dusknoir's true colors were revealed as a way to teasingly bug Kip, who didn't think it was funny to stan a criminal, even ironically. After chapter 16 and beyond it is no longer remotely ironic.

After the events of the post-game, Kip gets a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to pursue his childhood dream of being a cartographer. Twig encouraged him to jump on the opportunity, even if it meant them being apart for a time, and he reluctantly set off on a years-long expedition without her. They miss each other dearly, but they have become the ultimate pen pals and they’re keeping their local post offices in business with their individual correspondence alone.

Twig gets a bee in her bonnet one day about evolving and storms off to Luminous Spring to get it done. For some reason— perhaps a lingering distortion of time or space clinging to her— her evolution into a charmeleon is incomplete. She grew a little taller, lost some baby fat, and has a bit of a nubby lil horn, but she hasn’t got the height or coloring of a typical charmeleon. In addition to this, all your scars are meant to vanish along with your old form when you evolve, but one in particular on her right arm remained unchanged. The scar doesn’t bother her, but it does weird her out that it didn’t go away. She doesn’t even remember where she got it, so it’s not like it's special or anything… right? It kind of looks like a handprint. Weird.

She ends up getting a house in a place called Verdant Village just north of Treasure Town and doing odd jobs to keep the money coming in— she doesn’t take many exploration gigs because it’s not the same without Kip— and makes herself a nice life there.

(She has a family consisting of a gallade, gardevoir, and little ralts kid as next-door neighbors. The gardevoir could smell Twig’s rancid shambling-mess-of-neuroses vibes from a mile away and has made it a point to regularly try to get her to open up. Twig will absolutely not open up because she doesn’t know how to go about explaining her problems when they're centered around how she’s a former human originating from an alternate future that no longer exists, and that she spent a while being antagonized by the god of nightmares before he was blasted into the ether by the ruler of space and promptly disappeared, never to be seen again. There’s a lot to unpack there and she honestly would rather throw out the whole suitcase than deal with it.)

She was feeling nostalgic one day and decided to go crawl the mystery dungeon at Mount Travail, where she encounters an amnesiac Darkrai hiding in the bushes to avoid the fighting types prevalent in the area. After very awkwardly attempting to threaten him despite the increasing urge to just turn tail and run, it became clear to Twig that he remembered nothing but his name, and he didn't seem all that intent on world domination anymore. She couldn’t help but be suspicious of him regardless, but disguises her wariness as concern and gives him a place to stay at her house so that she can ensure he doesn't remember who he was and what his goals were before his memory was erased.

Thus begins the "And They Were Roommates" arc of Twig's life, where the plot swings rapidly back and forth between her comically desperate efforts to keep the origin of 82.9% of her mental illnesses from learning anything about his past, feign normalcy to bystanders when she goes to the market with a being of myths and legends trailing after her, and keep The Bad Thoughts from taking over while also trying to figure out how to explain to her friends what she's been up to for the past few months.

Shenanigans ensue. Friendships are tested and strengthened. Long-avoided conversations are had. Twig is, mortifyingly, understood. Healing is found and time keeps marching on.

(Also Darkrai ends up nicknamed Ark for similar reasons to Kip being nicknamed Kip. Thought I'd just sneak that in here.)

[co-mixed]

Fantastic Four by John Byrne 

This run is considered to be one of the must-reads, so well, I read it. And the whole thing left a weird aftertaste. Very similar to the one you have after learning more about its creator. Yes, one could be a good artist and a decent writer without being a good human. 

But we’re here to focus on content, not the creator, and that’s what I’m going to do. 

What it feels like

I jumped into this run right after Lee/Kirby, skipping most of the stuff in the middle. So it was a new take on the team right off the bat. Byrne focuses on the human sides of the FF a little more than the original run does. The structure of the stories also changes from a day at the Baxter Building -> a villain appears -> the villain is defeated. We start getting multiple chapters or issues in every arc, and it makes them more complex. 

In fact, complexity is certainly something that appears and grows from the 1970s to the 1980s. That’s true for most comics. 

But then there is the how it’s done and the what is done. And while one is a huge leap forward, the other is very controversial. I couldn’t find any explanations for some of the storylines aside from the idea hat (you know, when you get a hat, throw random ideas in it and start pulling.) Because of that, the stories seem disjointed. They connect to one another but it’s hard to say what exactly was the writer implying. Unfortunately, the more we know about the writer in question, the less chances we have left to misinterpret it into something more digestible. 

It’s not like that (or it shouldn’t be)

Byrne leans into the white savior trope. Every time the characters encounter racism, it feels ingenuine. Especially when blond blue-eyed Johnny jumps in to save Wyatt. This same feeling I got from Roy Thomas’s apartheid issue (FF #119) and it doesn’t get better. Yeah, we can argue that this is the 80’s but that trope is in no hurry to disappear. 

When it comes to political takes, Byrne’s are controversial, to say the least. I wrote a whole longread, complaining about the bizarre Latverian arc, in which the FF organized two coups in a row first bringing democracy to the people of the country, and then, handing it back to Doom. It’s all disguised into a lesser of two evils issue but it won’t sit well with anyone who’s familiar with autocratic regimes. 

Barely moving forward

Byrne also shakes up the character dynamics. But was any of it for the better? At times, he presents a more acceptable version of Reed. He is still an easily hooked, eager scientist who can neglect his family in favor of his work. But he’s not an absolutely intolerable garbage human anymore. He is also the least interesting character of the bunch because aside from science and condescending explanations, he doesn’t have much going on. He becomes more observant though, even noticing the change in Johnny when he starts dating Alicia (and I later will circle back to that absolute eww moment.)

While all that is true, Reed is also shown to be racist against Skrulls during his trial. His statements are what any racist would say. Verbatim.

It almost feels like Byrne himself is interested less in Reed and more in other members of the team. 

Women of Marvel

A lot of attention goes to Sue, Frankie Raye, and She-Hulk. And here I’d have to give Byrne some props. They are shown as competent and as strong (or potentially as strong) as their male counterparts. It’s suggested that Sue is actually the strongest member of the team, and it’s a very reasonable statement too. She stops being a quiet voice in the back and even reflects on that.

Unfortunately, I have to retract the props immediately because there is a weird violence kink that accompanies all the development. Like Alicia being badly beaten up by Annihilus, Sue being tortured by Mephisto, She-Hulk being photographed and then verbally assaulted by an editor. This is a repeated offense with Byrne's writing. 

Then, of course, there is the arc with Sue’s miscarriage and the one with Malice. Now the first one might not rub everyone the right way, but I think it’s something that made the 80s comics relatable - human issues that heroes face. And in this case, it’s one that comes not as a result of her superhero life but of her being exposed to cosmic rays. She doesn’t immediately forget it either, this arc echoes through the following issues and while I don’t know whether the portrayal is at all genuine, it’s there and that’s quite innovative. 

Go ask Malice

Malice is another Sue-centric concept, it’s her evil alter-ego that’s brought forth by a villain.

And here I have an issue because maybe instead of Psycho-Man - a hate-based villain (which was a mediocre concept all around) it could’ve been a manifestation of her grief and exhaustion with his behavior.

This could have (and should have been) an internal family matter for the FF with Sue confronting and possibly blaming Reed and Reed finally acknowledging how crappy he’s been and changing for the better. 

Sure this doesn’t have the scale of the whole NYC in a hate-fueled frenzy but it does have just the right tone for a family. While we’re at it, Byrne doesn’t have the best track record with tackling racism or bigotry issues so again, that would’ve been much better. 

Even if the concept itself was interesting, Byrne’s execution fumbled it completely. Sue’s hate is a twisted form of her love. And when it comes to Reed, Malice actually addressed all the reasonable points. He really has done every single thing she’d accused him of, and he proceeds to do them again. So really, he doesn’t learn anything from this whole ordeal. 

It’s even worse that Sue attacks him later, again, with reasonable demands of revenge on Psycho-Man, and Reed tries to dismiss her to focus on ‘more important stuff.’

I’d say the right thing to do would be to allow She-Hulk to immediately side with Sue because that’s what any woman would do no questions asked. Ideally, Johnny should have done the same – he was raised by Sue after all. On the other side, his only male role models are Reed (ew no thanks) and Ben (ew no thanks.)

When they finally face the villain, Byrne goes back to his favorite tools - torturing Sue. The torture isn’t physical but Sue keeps seeing an exaggerated version of Reed who blames her for everything and treats her like garbage. Shockingly, he’s not that different from the real Reed. 

I don’t have to be too negative here because, in the end, Sue does defeat the villain, punish him, and save Reed. She even changes her monicker to Invisible Woman (and that’s the name we know her by now). But again, some very odd decisions preceded that positive outcome. 

This arc is pretty sad to read because psychological manipulation and violation of a person’s psyche is a big deal. This could have been a groundbreaking arc. But instead, it gets cringey at times and doesn’t do the characters justice.

...And others

Like I said, Sue isn’t the only lady who gets to stand in the spotlight. I quite liked the character of Frankie (before she fell in love with Galactus for like 3 panels). She has quite a story, having a power she couldn’t access and a phobia connected to said power. With a little more development (I’m talking modern-day standards) she could’ve been a way more compelling character. But ultimately everything worked out pretty well, especially after her over-eagerness to resolve everything with brute force paid off when she became the herald of Galactus. 

She-Hulk is always a joy to encounter, and she takes over the Thing’s spot on the team for a while after the Secret Wars. She has a cute romance with Wyatt and that’s probably one of the most adorable things in this run. Because, you know, all the other romances are getting a hit. 

But not everything is as well as it may seem. As soon as Byrne’s done torturing Sue, he proceeds to torture She-Hulk.

What about love? 

Byrne delivers us one of the most unnecessary romance stories ever, and I’m saying this as someone who’s seen Scott fall in love with Jean’s clone, Gambit making out with Storm every chance he gets (I still ship it), Wanda and Cap, even Batman and Batgirl (and that was a new low).

So Johnny and Alicia. What was that about?

I could see that happening if she hadn’t been Ben’s very serious girlfriend: there are very reasonable elements in this story that reflect the schism in their relationship. They are both growing out of it and it makes perfect sense since Alicia is younger than Ben. In fact, she’d described as just a couple of years older than Johnny who in the beginning was in high school so… best not to think about it at all. Why are old comics like that (heavy sigh). 

Either way, before they break up, Ben stays on another planet and contemplates his relationship with Alicia, deciding that they should break up. Alicia comes to the same conclusion and bonds with Johnny over tragedies and danger. 

Here’s the thing though (for this, imagine me with a cup of tea and my glasses on). Johnny has known Ben his whole life and he has to have more decency than to start a relationship with someone who hasn’t yet broken up with Ben. The same can be said about Alicia but I hardly can hold this against her, since she is friends with them all but she still isn’t (at that time) tied to them that strongly. So yeah, I can see her do that and feel justified. 

But in general, what is this whole thing about? It’s a story that doesn’t do anything but portray both characters in the worst light. And it would’ve made sense had it been the endgame. But it wasn’t, we all know that. So I’m going to take it as a temporary insanity thing and push into that ‘We don’t talk about…’ drawer where things like Connor (Angel’s son), Xavier’s crush on Jean, and the whole Avengers 200 thing go to die. 

Another thing that goes into the same drawer is the origin of Sue and Reed’s relationship (I’m guessing pre-retcon). I’m not going to comment on that because I hate Reed enough as it is. There’s just nowhere for the hate to grow.  

Moving on

There’s also Franklin and he is growing, he’s 5 now and he… becomes an adult, puts blocks on his powers, goes back to being a kid, defeats Mephisto, and sees prophetic dreams about impending Doom. Not necessarily of the doctor variety. 

I have nothing to say about Franklin just yet, except that he looks like a very short adult rather than a 5 y/o. And that’s the creepy trend that plagues the comics of the 80's. 

Same old story

I feel like Byrne simultaneously tried to bring something new to the story and burn (or Byrne!) everything just to watch the flames.

And yet so many conflicts remained the same! Johnny goes through a weird love triangle just to end up with Alicia. The Thing is stuck in the same I-wanna-be-human-I-don’t-wanna-be-human vicious circle and I’m starting to wonder if they’re even planning on giving that up. We covered Reed already, and Sue is the only one who has some new stuff going on. But she is enough to make the run interesting.

As the run nears its end, there is an issue that reminded me more of Nocenti’s style (which I don’t know who started in the comics but she definitely perfected it), that focuses on Johnny dealing with his own impact on humans. It started out interesting with the boy burning himself to be like Human Torch, but then Beyonder showed up and instead of a psychological journey (as Nocenti probably would’ve done) we get a Deus ex-Machina solution.

Was it worth it? 

I write the following with a clear understanding that I was ready to give up at least thrice during this read-through. 

I would say that there are several arcs that deserve attention: the rewritten origin of Doom (that still doesn’t explain how we’re supposed to view him as a necessary evil rather than a terrible dictator), Galactus stories, Negative Zone travels, Sue telling off Reed, and so on. So if you’re thinking of reading the run, I’d say do. 

Keep in mind that there are trigger warnings, such as racism, violence against women, and miscarriage. Byrne's run is… a lot. If you feel too disgusted, better skip it. 

At the end of the day, we're really talking about this whole thing from today’s perspective. That means we all know the red flags in writing just as well as we do which tropes are harmful and why. 

We also realize that there are more ways to look at an issue than through the eyes of a stereotypical protagonist of the era. In the 80s comics were still becoming the art form we know and love today, and narrative mistakes were made. It’s easier to follow the story if you note them but don’t focus on them. Without that, they’ll be just a bunch of outdated narratives and harmful stereotypes.

[donatellowiththebookinhishand]

Donatello Brainworm AU

Hey everyone- I originally posted this to ao3, but I wanted to cross-post here so I could actually tag the inspiration for the fic. My tag on ao3 however is SCREAM_ing, if you want to know where faster updates will be!

Summary:

-Based off the Brainworm Donnie AU comic by @cupcakeslushie on tumbler. I highly recommend checking their comic out, it’s pretty great! Here’s their description:

“Karai lures Donnie into her trap first in the Fourfold Trap, but what if she used the extra time to implant him with a brainworm? The brothers have to try to race against a ticking clock to save a brother who now hates them.

Warnings: brainwashing, neglect/abuse (not real, but perceived as the truth)“

Disclaimer!!! In case you missed it in the super long description- Please read this before.. reading.

This AU is NOT my idea, it comes from a comic creator on tumbler by the name @cupcakeslushie. I implore you to check their comic out before reading, their art is incredible. It’s also the basis of this entire work, and I will try to keep dialogue the same from comic to here.

This is also my first time writing a fanfic, so this pilot chapter is like a draft of a draft. Hopefully it will get better as I write 😅

---------------------------------------

Chapter 1

----

“I know you have tried, Donatello; some things are simply not meant to be. At least I have four wonderful sons.”

If that wasn’t the nail in the coffin. Donnie’s heart sank as the black goop in the beaker—a hopeful attempt at a cure—oozed mockingly at him. His brothers, who’d been crowded around him to witness this latest attempt at a cure, began to solemnly walk out of the lab. Donnie didn't know what to do anymore, and he was running out of ideas.

His failure weighed heavily on his shoulders. He’d come up empty-handed again, his ideas to develop the cure were running thin. It’s been weeks of sleepless nights and many, many, coffee pots later, and his latest idea hadn't even come close to fruition.

It also doesn't help that he can't even focus on his brothers’ and master’s disappointment through the massive headache he’s been nursing for weeks. It’s back at full throttle now as he chokes back tears of frustration.

His family had taken it upon themselves to stop into the lab after each supper to check on his progress toward the cure. Donnie really thinks it's just their way of subtly asking, "Aren’t you done yet?" It’s that, or it’s them checking if he’s still standing after missing yet another mealtime.

The brothers left, all disappointed—except for Leo, who turned to Donnie with hardened eyes and a mouth twisted in frustration. To distract himself, Donatello doesn't meet his brothers' eyes as they leave, instead opting to grab a clipboard and take notes on what he could actually fix around the lair. Leo stalked angrily behind him, unnoticed by the genius.

“Donnie, you know how much this means to Sensei.”

“Leo, I’m trying as hard as I can.” He could barely believe Leo had just said that to him; the words cut through him like a dagger. His face fell, the weariness and hurt momentarily slipping through before he clenched his jaw and tried to steady himself. After all the sleep he’d lost and sacrifices he’d made, he couldn’t take the thought of being asked to give even more.

Couldn't he see that Donnie was giving everything he had to Karai’s brainworm problem? He hadn't had a full night’s sleep in almost a month. Tears of frustration begin to well in his eyes; in a last-ditch effort to quell his rising temper, he grips the sides of the clipboard tighter, digging his fingers into the smooth wood almost painfully.

“Well, try harder.”

White-hot indignation shoots down his shell, sudden anger at his older brother is sharp and undeniable. The clipboard left his hands, skidding across the lab with a loud crash, not bothering to look in the direction it goes. His hurt is quickly masked by anger, and his focus is completely on Leo, fists tightly balled. “Try harder? I always have to find the solution! You’re the leader, Leo! You find the answer! Or what about Raph?”

“I got the answer for you—Karai’s a lost cause!”

“Don’t say that, dude.”

All four brothers began arguing incessantly with each other, weeks of pent-up anger and frustration pouring out of each of them. Donnie fired back quickly, gesticulating wildly as he channeled weeks of exhaustion into his voice—when his T-phone began to ring from across the room. Still furious and hurting, Donnie stomped across the room, almost happy for the excuse to walk away from Leo.

“Donnie, I need to talk with you alone. It’s important. I need you to meet me.”

It was April, and while this wasn't the best time for a heart-to-heart, she said it was an emergency. And who was Donnie to deny her? Besides, it's not like he was doing anything more productive at the lair—he glanced at his brothers, who genuinely seemed like dogs about to pounce on each other, and his mind was made up.

“Shizukani,” Splinter’s voice rang through the lair, effectively silencing their quarrel. He stalked out, hands clasped behind his back. All the turtles froze like they were children caught in the act; they guiltily turned to face their master with wide eyes. “What is the meaning of this?” Splinter said sternly, not bothering to hide his disdain for the quarreling, his eyebrows drawn together tightly.

“Nothing, Sensei, I’m heading out. April needs me,” Donnie said and angrily walked out of the lair, palms still tightly balled up. Leo, who took great offense to this, demanded Donnie come back. “You’re needed here now, Donnie!” He stepped forward, toward his taller brother, but otherwise made no move to actually stop Donatello from leaving the lair.

“Donnie! .. Donnie!”

Donnie mentally scoffed. Yeah, because you guys are always such reliable sources of positivity and gratitude, he thought wryly. His youngest brother’s words resurfaced in his mind.

“Donnie, you tried your best, brah... even if it totally sucked.”

He kept his back to his family, continuing to stride toward the Shellraiser, refusing to acknowledge Leo’s calls. The Shellraiser roared to life, and he sped out of the sewer tunnels.

---

Donnie was a speed demon as he drove recklessly toward the location April sent him. He didn't bother stopping for streetlights or at intersections, forcing himself to have tunnel vision on April’s problem to avoid dealing with his own. The large van skidded to a stop as he reached the GPS pinpoint, a random alleyway with a large weathered garage door at the end of it. Donnie double-checked his T-phone, wondering why April would want to meet him in a place like this. Maybe she’d discovered something that could help Karai?

He didn't put too much thought into it. Donnie placed his head against the cool leather of the custom steering wheel he’d created, still attempting to cool off from his earlier altercation with his stupid brothers. Why couldn't they see he gave them his all, and they still had the audacity to ask him to do more? He was dying out here, for shell’s sake!

While all they had to worry about was training and what monstrosity of a combination they were going to eat that night, courtesy of Michelangelo, Donnie was slaving away in the lab, barely taking breaks to give them even a chance at saving their half-sister. Donatello shook the thoughts from his head; it wasn't important right now how he felt. He wiped away the hot, angry tears that had unknowingly begun to fall from his eyes.

God, he felt even more stupid right now, letting his emotions get to him while April needed him—and that wasn't even a word! He shook his head again and refocused, hopping out of the Shellraiser and walking into the dark alleyway. The smell of oil hung heavy in the air, and he absently hoped it wasn’t from the Shellraiser. He hadn’t spent much time on his 'baby' lately, he mused with a pang of guilt. Karai’s condition was much more important, though, and he feared they didn’t have much time left before the damage to her brain would become permanent. He pushed the thought aside and fixed his attention back on reaching the end of the alley.

The garage opened quickly, as if she’d heard him coming. April’s figure was illuminated by a strange purple light. All thoughts of how weird that was went away when she called out. “Donnie,” April spoke in a gravelly voice, “the Kraang are back.” Donnie’s mood improved so much just from her voice that he almost didn't register what she’d said. He shook himself back in order for the third time that night. “What? We've got to tell the guys.” Donnie's eyes widened, and he pulled out his phone, immediately sliding past Leo’s contact to dial Michelangelo instead. No way was he going to call Fearless first thing after the night he's had—he'd make Mikey do all the explaining.

“There’s no time. They’re about to get away; we’ve got to move,” April rushed and leapt further into the seemingly abandoned warehouse. It was pretty hard to tell with that blinding purple light beaming out at him. Donnie scrambled after her, calling her name so she’d wait up. He supposed he’d just call the guys when they stopped the first round of Kraang—not so hard, right?

It was only after he stepped through the garage doors that he realized his mistake. It was a trap, and he’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. The heavy garage door slammed shut. He had no time to react before he was shot—a red-tipped dart and a bag roughly shoved over his head, forcing his neck back at an unnatural angle. Donnie cried out, but it was in vain; he was at Karai’s mercy now, and her scaly smirk was the last thing he saw.

“Sweet dreams, Donatello.”

After Donatello stormed out, Splinter sighed and strode back into the dojo, likely to resume his meditation. The lingering tension filled the room, and Leo stood rooted in place for a beat, Splinter’s words on unity echoing in his mind. Arms crossed, he clenched his jaw at Donnie’s blatant disregard. Didn't being the leader mean anything anymore? He couldn’t help but feel the sting of Donnie’s dismissal, and his eyes narrowed with a mix of hurt and frustration as he watched his brother disappear down the tunnel.

Raph and Mikey exchanged a look before slinking away, each to their own devices. Raph muttered something about "always being drama in this place" as he slipped off toward the training room, while Michelangelo, not too rattled by the clash, eagerly bounced back to his own mission: a game of cards with Ice Cream Kitty.

"Sorry for the wait, Kitty," he said, petting her between her cold, strangely furry ears. “Leo was being a total jerk, but we’re back at it! Now, where were we?” Ice Cream Kitty purred contentedly, her pinkish ears twitching as she smugly waited for her next move.

They played for a while, Mikey easily distracted by the cold little creature in front of him. Somehow, Ice Cream Kitty managed to take full advantage of Mikey’s earlier distraction and swept through his cards with ease, sealing her victory. He couldn’t believe it.

“No way, Kitty, you totally cheated, cheater, cheater, frozen yogurt eater! Give me that card!” Mikey cried, feigning shock as she meowed back at him triumphantly. But before he could demand a rematch, his T-phone buzzed on the table beside him. Glancing down, he saw Donnie’s name flash across the screen and picked it up eagerly.

“Hey, Mikey! You’re not gonna believe it—Murakami whipped up something new. Get this: pizza gyozas!” Donnie’s excitement came through loud and clear, and that was all Mikey needed to hear.

The thought of gooey, cheesy, bite-sized pizza pockets made his mouth water. It was as though all the tension of the evening melted away. “Aw yeah! That sounds totally awesome D. I'll be there faster than a turtle can say pepperoni!” Mikey’s eyes went wide, practically sparkling with anticipation. He knew this was something he couldn’t miss, his head already exploding at the thought of Murakami’s latest delicacy.

Quickly, he gathered his cards and placed Ice Cream Kitty back in her freezer, laughing as she let out a playful hiss. “Sorry, girl, but duty calls! Donnie’s got something totally sweet lined up!” He shut the freezer with a wink and dashed out of the lair, visions of pizza gyozas dancing in his head as he bounded through the tunnels with pure unrestrained enthusiasm.

Upon reaching Murakami’s noodle shop, Mikey burst through the door, calling out, “Mr. Murakami, what up?” The smell of delicious food enveloped him, heightening his excitement.

“Greetings, Michelangelo,” Murakami said, a twinkle in his eye as he presented a tray. “These are for you. Each has a unique mixture of cheeses and delicate flavors.”

Without hesitation, Mikey snatched one and stuffed it into his mouth, the warm, cheesy filling melting perfectly against his tongue. “Oh yeah! This is awesome—” His voice trailed off as he savored the explosion of flavors, the world around him fading into bliss. He gobbled down another gyoza, hardly able to contain his delight.

But as he reached for a third, a sudden wave of nausea crashed over him. Mikey’s stomach growled ominously, and he felt a sharp pain coursing through him. “Oh...what’s happening?” he gasped, eyes wide with confusion. “Poison?”

“Do not worry, Michelangelo,” a shadowed figure responded, stepping forward. “It is not poison, simply chemicals to give you a nice little nap.”

Mikey’s vision blurred as the deliciousness of the gyozas twisted into a haze of betrayal. “Evil. Delicious, but evil...” he murmured, swaying on his feet before collapsing to the ground. In those final moments of consciousness, he managed to hit the panic button on his T-phone, sending out an SOS before everything went dark.

------

The silence in the lair was heavy, filled only with the distant sounds of the city above. Leo paced back and forth, his mind racing with the tension from earlier. "Where’s Donnie? He should have been back by now," he muttered, glancing at Raph, who was leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

Raph shrugged, the unease palpable in the air. “You know Donnie. He probably got caught up in his experiments again. He always does.”

Leo stopped, his brow furrowing with concern. “But he was so upset. He stormed out. I just... I don’t like this.” The weight of their earlier argument hung over him, a nagging feeling that he should have done more to support his brother settled in his chest.

Just then, a frantic buzz interrupted their thoughts. Leo’s T-phone lit up on the table. “It’s Mikey!” he said, snatching it up. “Mikey- What’s going on?” But as Leo answered, his heart sank. The only sound on the other end was garbled static—no voice, no explanation, just the unsettling sound of a struggle. Panic surged through him. “Mikey! What’s happening?! Say something, anything!”

“Mikey pressed the SOS button!” Raph leaned closer, his eyes wide with alarm. “This isn’t good. Shell for brains wouldn’t do that unless things were serious.” He ran his fingers along his Sai, the familiar weight grounding him.

Leo’s fingers flew across the screen as he accessed the tracking app. “Where is he?” His heart pounded as the location pin appeared on the map, revealing Mikey’s last known position: an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. “He’s at an old warehouse!”

“Of course he is,” Raph grumbled, frustration creeping into his voice. “Why does he always have to go chasing after trouble?”

“Forget that! We need to focus!” Leo snapped, pushing the rising irritation aside. “Mikey must have seen something. If he hit that button, he could be in serious danger!” He felt his pulse quicken, adrenaline pumping through his veins. “We need to move!”

“Great, but how are we getting there?” Raph asked, raising an eyebrow. “Donnie took the Shellraiser for his ‘important research.’”

“Of course he did.” Leo sighed, running a hand through his bandana. “Looks like we’re taking the Stealth Bike. It’s not as fast, but we’ll have to make it work.”

“Perfect,” Raph replied, rolling his eyes. “Just what I wanted: a scenic tour through the sewers before racing into a potential ambush.”

“Complaining won’t help Mikey,” Leo shot back, already heading toward the exit. “Let’s go!”

---------

Leo and Raph approached the warehouse with a sense of trepidation, their eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. As they crept closer, they couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The entrance was unguarded, the rusty door slightly ajar as if inviting them in.

“Doesn’t this seem a bit too easy fearless?” Raph murmured, glancing at Leo with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, it’s like they wanted us to find this place,” Leo replied, his instincts tingling. “But we don’t have time to second-guess ourselves. We need to find Mikey.”

They exchanged a determined glance before Leo pushed the door open, the hinges creaking ominously as they stepped into the dimly lit space. Leo’s heart raced, the adrenaline surging through him as he scanned the room, muscles tensed and ready for action.

“Where’s Mikey?” Raph hissed, his grip tightening around his sai, his eyes narrowing as he swept the shadows for any signs of movement.

In the center of the empty warehouse, they spotted him—Mikey lying face down on the ground, his shell scratched and dirty. Panic surged through Leo, and without hesitation, he sprinted toward his brother. “Mikey!” he shouted, fear clawing at his throat.

They reached Mikey, Leo kneeling beside him while Raph crouched down, both brothers desperate to check for any signs of life. Relief washed over them as they found him breathing, albeit with a few scrapes on his arms and a deepening bruise on his cheek. “Hey, Mikey! Wake up!” Leo shook him gently, worry etched on his face.

Mikey blinked awake, groggy and disoriented. “Yo, dudes! I just had the craziest dream. I totally tore up some pizza gyozas and got totally faked out by Murakami—so not cool!”, he groaned dramatically. Raph rolled his eyes, his expression a mix of relief and irritation. “Mikey, that’s probably what happened. Look around you, shell for brains.”

Just then, a voice rang out from above, they had company. “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.” Leo and Raph’s heads snapped up, their eyes narrowing as they spotted Karai on the balcony of the second floor. She leaned casually against the railing, a smug grin plastered across her face, her dark eyes glinting with triumph.

“What are you doing here?” Raph growled, his instincts flaring as he took a defensive stance, ready for whatever trick she had up her sleeve. “Honestly? I thought this would be more difficult,” Karai replied with a laugh, her tone mocking. “But it seems you turtles are even dumber than I thought. I only needed to use one of my holograms to distract you.

At her words, the holograms of Mikey and April flickered and vanished, leaving only the real Mikey on the ground. The tension in the air thickened as Leo’s gaze shifted back to his brother, confusion knotting his stomach. Suddenly, they noticed Donatello, not a hologram they realized, standing beside Karai. A disturbingly wide smile stretched across his face, his posture unnaturally rigid. His pupils were dilated, giving him a wild, manic look that sent shivers down Leo’s spine.

“Well, I was only expecting Leonardo, but…” Donatello said, his tone unnaturally smooth, sending a jolt of alarm through Leo. He clicked a button on a device in his hand, and suddenly the brothers found themselves surrounded by a swarm of Foot Soldiers, their black uniforms blending into the dim shadows of the warehouse.

“Having the rest of you here makes it so much easier,” Donnie finished, the hint of delight in his voice sending chills down Leo’s spine.

“Donnie, snap out of it man!” Mikey called out, pushing himself off the ground, his voice wavering between concern and disbelief. “This isn’t you bro, it’s Shredder totally hijacking your brain!”, he made a face like a strangely dizzy zombie to prove his point.

Leo’s heart raced as he assessed the scene—his brother, usually so awkward and slightly slew-footed, now stood like a puppet, a smile that felt more sinister than genuine plastered across his face.

“What have they done to you?” Leo whispered, fists clenching around his swords. Anguish mixed with anger surged through him, knowing they were once again up against something that could twist their own brother into a weapon against them.

Raph’s face darkened, his jaw tight as he scanned the area, eyes narrowing at the encroaching Foot Soldiers. “Another brain worm?” he growled, the fury building inside him. “Great. Just what we need.”, he tightened his grip on his sai and bared his teeth at the offending ninjas.

Mikey, still shaken, pointed at the advancing Foot Soldiers. “We can’t just stand here! Donnie wouldn’t want this, right? He’d want us to fight back!” “Yeah, well I don’t think he’s in charge right now Mikey,” Raph shot back, his fists clenching tighter. “But if we don’t take these guys out, we’ll never get to him.”

With a collective surge of determination, the brothers charged at the advancing Foot Soldiers. Leo led the way, his swords slicing through the air with precision, while Raph followed suit, his sai stabbing into the nearest ninja. Mikey stayed close, using his agility to dodge blows, but he could feel the tension mounting. It was an all-out brawl, the warehouse echoing with the sound of clashing weapons and grunts of exertion.

“Come on, you overgrown tin cans!” Raph yelled, launching himself into a spin kick that sent one Foot Soldier crashing to the ground. Mikey mimicked his brother’s movements, throwing punches and kicks, but every time they took one down, two more seemed to take its place.

“Hey, Donnie, how about a little help here?” Mikey shouted, hoping against all odds that some part of their brother was still inside. But Donatello remained unmoved, standing rigidly by Karai, an unsettling grin on his face, as if he were enjoying the chaos around him.

The battle raged on, but it quickly became apparent that the brothers were severely outnumbered. Just as Leo and Raph fought off another wave of attackers, they felt the weight of heavy chains being forced around them. The cold metal bit into their skin, and with a sickening sense of dread, they realized they were being captured.

“Mikey!” Leo yelled, straining against the chains, but Raph was already being dragged back by two Foot Soldiers. The ninja’s grip was unyielding as they pulled him away, the sharp clinking of metal echoing in the warehouse. Raph struggled, kicking out wildly, but the sheer force of the Foot Soldiers overwhelmed him.

“No! Let him go!” Mikey shouted, but he too was soon restrained, strong arms pinning him to the ground. He writhed and kicked, his heart pounding with desperation. “Donnie, help us!” he pleaded, eyes wide with fear.

As the last of their resistance faded, Donatello moved down from the balcony with a slow, deliberate gait. His movements were unnaturally fluid, a predator stalking its prey. The manic glint in his eyes was unsettling, pupils blown wide, giving him a wild, deranged look. The smile that had once conveyed warmth now seemed twisted, devoid of the love and camaraderie that had defined him.

“Ah, the glorious moment has finally arrived!” Donnie exclaimed, his voice dripping with unsettling delight. “All of you in one place, now here’s where it starts to get really interesting.” he spat, malice overtaking the previous happiness in his voice.

Leo felt a cold chill settle in his stomach. “Donnie, Shredder has you and Karai under the control of a brain worm!” He called out, desperation coloring his words.

Raph, breathing heavily and straining against the chains, interjected, “You gotta resist it, Don! Use that big brain of yours! If I was able to fight it off, then you can too!”

But Donnie only laughed, an unnatural high-pitched sound that echoed through the warehouse, making the hairs on Leo's neck stand on end. “Oh, but this is so much fun! And truly Leo, I’ve never felt better!”

“Donnie, you don’t wanna hurt Mikey! I’m the one you should be mad at!” Leo pleaded, hoping to reach his brother through the haze of control that clouded his mind.

Donatello's grin widened, a jarring contrast to the familiar warmth that usually filled his expressions, as he stared at his oldest brother.

His eyes, wide and gleaming with an unsettling light, were devoid of recognition. The usual spark of intelligence was gone, replaced by something manic and chaotic. His fingers trembled slightly, as if he could hardly contain the excitement bubbling beneath his surface.

“~Aw, don’t worry, Leo,” he said, voice dripping with mock cheerfulness as he grabbed Leo’s face roughly, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Karai and I came up with fun activities for everyone!”

The chill that had settled in Leo’s stomach transformed into a wave of nausea. He could hardly process the twisted words spilling from Donnie's mouth. Fear surged through him, tightening his chest and twisting his expression into one of anguish.

“Donnie, please…” he whispered, desperation lacing his voice. His brows furrowed deeply, and his eyes widened, reflecting both disbelief and a flicker of hope that somehow, someway, he could reach his brother.

But the face that stared back at him was not the Donatello he knew—the warm, goofy brother with a penchant for invention and a heart full of loyalty. Instead, he saw a hollow shell, his brother was not with them at the moment.

“Donnie!” Raph’s voice cut through the air, furious and filled with disbelief. The sound was raw, almost primal, as if he was attempting to shake their brother awake from a nightmare.

Suddenly, the grip of the Foot Soldiers tightened around each of the brothers, yanking them backward into their respective traps. Raph thrashed violently, trying to break free, but it was no use. The chains clanked loudly on the concrete, but otherwise didnt budge.

Mikey too started to get dragged away, as he struggled against the grip of the Foot Soldiers, his heart raced, a sense of panic creeping into his chest. He watched his older brother, completely not in control for once, and felt a cold sweat break out across his brow. “Leo! Raph!”, he gulped “Dudes, I’m like, freaking out over here!” he shouted, desperation lacing his voice.

“Mikey!” Leo shouted again, fear morphing into determination as he struggled against his own restraints. The reality of their predicament began to set in, a cold weight anchoring him down.

He desperately sought to make eye contact with Donnie, hoping for a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of his true brother buried beneath the layers of madness.

As they were dragged away, Donatello stood there, a twisted smile stretching across his face, looking pleased with the chaos unfolding before him.

“This is just the beginning, my dear brothers,” he called out, his voice echoing with a sinister glee that made Leo's blood run cold.

[grim-ghosty]

Ok so first of all, happy spooky season. Thought its always spooky season if you try hard enough, its all just a state of mind. Anyway this is your fault but um are you planning to include demoyd in your fic? Idk if you abandonded it or not or you just been busy or taking a break or whatever. Which is totally cool btw, take care of you, but just asking, just curious.

Could you tell me what Branch reaction would be to demoyd?

HAPPY SPOOKY SEASON!!

As for Demoyd being in the fic, I hope I can put it in there. We’ll just have to see how it goes. And no, I haven't abandoned the fic. Just been really busy with college and stuff. I’m actually almost done rewriting the first chapter and I hope I can start on chapter 4 really soon.

Idk if you are asking how canon Branch or BH Branch would react, so I’ll just tell you both.

Canon Branch would most likely be really surprised and also protective. I mean, he hasn't seen Floyd in 20+ years and he suddenly has a boyfriend that he is friends with. Kinda crazy news. Also, he just seen him die, so he’s going to be protective. He would also be mad the Demo never told him.

As for BH Branch, he doesn't know Demo at all. Even if he traveled throughout all of trolls’ kingdom and beyond. And even after world tour he isn’t much of a talker and is still trying to integrate back into troll society. So, he would just be surprised and protective.

I also have a comic planned for the Demoyd reunion plus the bros reactions to that reunion. Not BH au tho, just my canon.

[5-7-9]

I realize i should probably elaborate on how We Are Robin was inspired by a legitimate movement.

So while researching interviews by We Are Robin’s writer Lee Bermejo, I tried checking for the ones that were straight from his words rather than articles that quoted him. So i almost missed this one article that was worded as though it was not an interview, but CBR quoted from USA Today so it must’ve been. If it weren’t for a DC comics forum that had already read it, i wouldn’t have noticed.

When the series opens, it really doesn't have an identity, Bermejo says, but the group knows its mission statement. "It's one thing to put a hashtag on your Twitter account as a teenager and feel like you're part of something. It's a whole other thing when the (stuff) hits the fan and you have to stand up for what you believe in."

"Just with everything that we've seen happen recently with Ferguson, there's a lot of issues here that I think can be touched on and should be touched on."

"There's that element of this particular moment we're passing right now, and with a book like this you have a chance to comment about certain things and bring them into the Bat-universe in real interesting ways."

As a longtime fan of the Dark Knight and his supporting players, Bermejo admits that he always had a hard time figuring out why Batman would have a teen sidekick and put a kid in danger in the first place - for the writer, that was the beginning of how a series such as We Are Robin could work.

"Maybe there could possibly be many of these kids out there on the streets who have different talents and different capabilities that could be useful to Batman," says Bermejo.

"With ideas and big concepts, teenagers can get really passionate about that stuff and it can be their whole life. That was something interesting to me, that this thing could be bigger than just one guy jumping around in a domino mask."

(Just the first 3/three forum pages, I’m not reading all that 💀) Seems as though Bermejo wanted to make a commentary about Ferguson metaphorically through the Batman mythos. My interpretation of his message: the disenfranchised youth of America that have no one to help them (authority figures like parents and Batman) feel as though they must take justice matters into their own hands. Something Robin originally meant to represent, a child character for other children to project on. Bermejo thought to implement that literally into the story, where Robin is an actual symbol children use. In the case of real life, justice is done by protesting. But in the matters of DC comics, specifically Gotham? Their protesting comes in the form of vigilantism.

In the chapter where the We Are Robin kids try breaking up a random riot that kinda appears out from nowhere?

But when the Robins join in to stop the riot, they were suddenly framed by the Robot Batman cop as the aggressors (being controlled by Jim Gordon as he was temporarily “Batman”). Indiscriminating its force of authority onto the kids as well as the rioters.

This carries into the Riko’s POV chapter. After a WAR member died from a bomb, the television shows Troy’s parents being upset at the We Are Robin movement, claiming it “does more harm than good.”

Troy’s death is probably another comparisons to when 6 Ferguson protesters died. So his death seems to ask the question, is protesting worth it if it gets you killed? Are protesters making the situation of unjust violence worse? Riko answers: “I think… I think he was trying to do what he thought was right.”

If you aren’t aware of the Ferguson unrest, an 18 year old boy (Micheal Brown) was shot by a police officer after being accused of robbery. When nothing came about the police officer in question, many in the black community began protesting for about 400 days for the officer to be reprimanded. The media would often call it riots, with the negative connotations of unnecessary violence. This was apart of the Black Lives Matters movement of anti police brutality.

(here’s one video but i recommend doing your own research because i’m not great at keeping sources)

I’m sure you can see the similarities now. If not… essentially the We Are Robin is an allegory of the Ferguson protests. The vigilante kids are fighting crime, while the Ferguson protesters were the black community fighting injustice.

Robin War actually touches back on this Ferguson inspired media conflict, by having such an interestingly similar story involving a teenaged boy and a robber and a person dying from being shot 🤔

But here’s the twist: a We Are Robin member walks into a convenience store, he intervenes a police officer trying to stop a robbery, then, because this WAR member was a young probably “immature” teenager, accidentally shoots the police officer with his own gun.

Ha. Ha. 😐 Certainly not an insensitive plot to use at all (sarcasm)

(I should remind you all that Robin War was a piece of garbage mostly written by Tom King, and other writers like Tim Seeley and Scott Lobdell. i don't really need to explain everything wrong with these guys right now. Except for the parts Bermajo wrote, those were the best despite the surrounding shitty plot).

There’s also plenty of police imagery. See here an iconic picture of the Ferguson protest as a poster right smack down in the middle of a panel. Just in case you aren’t fully convinced about the Ferguson allegory… 🙃

Smack down in the centre of this panel has a iconic redrawing of a Ferguson protester (Edward Crawford) catching a tear gas canister thrown by the police, and throwing it right back at the riot cops faces 🖕☄️

So yes, We Are Robin was an activist movement.

[sonikkublue]

Where can I read the au?

I’m gonna make a site for it, everything about my au will go on there actually. Currently my comic isn’t even out yet, no where to read as of right now. When it’s done tho, I’ll def post it w/ the link, especially w/ the first chapter or smth. Still trying to get writing off the ground considering almost 2 years of work, but that’s ok. I’d rather have fun than rush it out

[camywamycam]

what was left behind in the rubble P.3

702 words

soon to be harry x reader 

TW//WRITTEN AT 4 AM BY A SLEEP DEPRIVED TEEN!!!

A/N

I know this is a short chapter and im sorry 😭 I finished writing this at 4 am because I can only write at night since I'm with my mom and siblings all day and I refuse to write in front of them 😭 maybe it wasnt a good idea to start a full ass fanfic story with a plot 2 weeks before I leave for summer camp but yolo, ive decided im gonna have this fic go from the summer - hoggwarts and y/n will start acting a lot more like Sirius iykwim 

y/ns pov

................

If you had been in the right mindset, you would have impatiently pushed Remus away the second he stepped foot into your room. However, at that moment, all you needed was a hug. You clung onto the soft fabric of his cable knit sweater, which carried the strong scent of chocolate, cigars, and parchment. Remus held you firmly in his arms, patiently waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to open up about your thoughts.

"I hate him," you said in a broken voice.

"You don't mean that," Remus replied, his uncertainty evident in his words. "He loves you, he just... doesn't know the right way to express himself, that's all."

"Well, he obviously doesn't have that problem with Potter," you spat, your voice tinged with envy. "When I traveled all the way to Europe to see my biological father, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't be a total dick."

Remus sat and listened attentively as you rambled, finally realizing how left out you had truly been. The other children never spoke to you, and neither did the adults, except for the usual greetings. The more he spoke to you, the more he learned about your experiences. He discovered that while you were neglected at Grimlands place, you had met a group of muggles who had welcomed you into their friend group so at least you hadn't been totally alone. In the mere 45 minutes of conversation, Remus had already learned more about you than your very own father.

You and Remus continued to chat throughout the night in the room which you had made your own. For the first time in a while when you woke up that morning you didn't feel absolutely terrible. you turned to your side and checked your phone notifications before getting ready for the day.

you tried to sprint down the stairs as quietly as possible knowing the other adults in the house wouldn't be so happy about you sneaking off to hang around strange people whom they knew nothing about. It was almost comical how much they tried to control you when you and they both knew they didn't care about you in the slightest. As you raced down the stairs you bumped into a pale boy with messy black hair and glasses that were a tad bit too large for his face. "black." he spat "potter." "and where do you think you are going?" he said sassily 

harrys pov

....................

it was strange seeing y/n actually dressed. since none of the kids went outside we mostly stayed in our lounging clothes. I took note of y/ns red top, flared jeans, a jean jacket that was covered in patches, and Converse. She actually looked quite nice... but I would never admit that. 

"out." that's all she said as she tried pushing past me. I grabbed a hold of her wrist "What's your problem? You've been acting rude ever since you got here. You could at least try to talk to your dad." she scoffed in my face "Oh I've tried. he's the one who doesn't want me here." "Maybe he would actually like you if you weren't such a bitch." I was shocked at the words falling from my mouth. did I say that out loud? my thoughts were confused as y/n turned around and punched me square in the nose. Adults rushed in as they heard me fall into a vase smashing it while holding my bloody nose. Mrs. Weasly scolded y/n “what on earth have you done!” she screamed at y/n but she just looked around with a red face and big eyes as she rushed towards the door slamming it shut, not that anyone cared.

"don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry," you thought to yourself as you ran to your friends' house. luckily she asked no questions and just welcomed you in with open arms. you eventually told her what had happened at Grimmlands place and she was pissed. both her parents said you could stay with them as long as you needed. they even let you move into the guest room so you wouldn't have to continue sleeping on your friend's floor. you know that you can't stay here long since school is starting soon, but you might as well enjoy it while you can.

tag list 

@moonys0chocolate @venomsvl  @quackitysdrugdealer @superduckmilkshake

[cumulonimbuns]

Excuse me a moment for TKSD, as I must scream.

(Pretend there's an 80 line long string of "AAAAAAHH" I don't want to actually fill up the dash with that much junk text)

I love it. Chef's kiss. Beautiful. Sidon my beloved. Link my beloved. Flying dragon breaking out of her mindless state my beloved. Mwah.

I feel it necessary that you are making my polyam partner very, very gooshy about the polyamourous society of Zora you've made. They've been having a rough time with so many "Yona jealous of link and sidon" and "Yona blocks off link from Sidon" shit, and you and the Secret Confessions To a Sage comic by @kenneduck have literally sent them to tears of the happiness of good, easy polyamoury. They've been very gooshy.

And I can't wait to see how Chapter 5 goes. The ending of chapter 4 was soo good, and I loved the entire story. The line in chapter 1 about how Link was a tool to use for the kingdom, not a person that can have desires Mmmmmmmm good shit angst. And the Whole Breakdown was so good and aaaa Link keeps fleeing. And Yona getting right under there and swooping Link out of there I love her. I love what you have done with her. Just. Aaaaah.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

I’ll scream for you, no worries lol!

But seriously thanks so much!!!!

And towards your partner, I COMPLETELY understand. I remember finishing TOTK and excitedly running to ao3. Only to see some of the first fics with Yona was just hating on her, or turning her character into a really mean lady who you’re supposed to root against. There’s nothing wrong enjoying your gay ships, but maybe don’t vilify female characters only bc they ‘get in the way’? It reminded me WAY TOO MUCH of my time in the Sonic fandom (I’m still a part of that fandom, always, love that silly blue hedgehog <3), and ppl would do the same to Amy in a lot Sonadow fics. WHICH DROVE ME INSANE.

I will always believe the hc of: wingman Yona, supportive wife Yona, or Poly Yona. They’re all wonderful <3 Just have these bitches love each other. It’s way more fun. I know once I complete TKSD I’d rlly rlly like to write a fic about SidYonZeLink, polyamory relationships are very dear to me, and I love exploring how complicated yet wonderfully caring they can be.

BUT OMG, I ALSO LOVE KENNEDUCK!!!! The Secret Confessions comic is just *chef kiss* GLORIOUS! I’m almost POSITIVE all of ya’ll have seen/read it, but if not—YOU BETTER GO RIGHT NOW AND DO SO!!! Their Yona is also so so so wonderful, she is so soft, and she and Sidon are so soft together. I love it.

I’m excited and nervous for chapter 5! I know a lot of y’all really wanna get to Link, but it felt important to write about the Sage’s to set up a couple of future events. I meant for it to be fairly short and then have a larger section dedicated to when they find Link, but thats… not exactly what happened. Atm the doc is at an even 19k word count (dunno how i managed that), and i still have a decent amount of things to write, SO…. Yeah. A lot of this chapter is really just about the Sages and the Sage’s bonding. If that’s not what you want than you can obviously wait til chapter 6, which spoilers, will be Link’s pov and ONLY about his recovery.

Thanks so much for all your kind words!! I rlly appreciate it <3<3<3

I hope everyone has a lovely day and that you enjoy future chapters and future fics!!

[ajwamiju]

Scene 9: Worse Than A Romance Drama

CW: Talks about sex, smoking

Note: I can finally start slowly posting act 2, which if you see from the masterlist has quite a bit of chapters (which can change). I will start slowly and post a bit erratically, at least until I'm done with this semester.

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The day you and Suna are handed the script immediately shoots down your comment about what could be worse than acting in a full-fledged romance drama. The way you and Suna stare at the script in horror is almost comical if anyone were to watch the scene.

The premise of the movie tells a story of your character, Nakamura Ryoba, and Suna’s character, Inoue Yasuhiro. The two are a newly married couple that had just moved into a new town to start their little family when weird things started to happen. The movie is a classic quiet town that is too good to be true which turns out to actually be a whole cult with demons, gore, and the whole horror movie package.

The problem starts on page 10 of the script.

The scene starts off after Yasuhiro and Ryoba’s wedding, and as most newly-married couples do, they have the steamiest sex possible for their first night together. At first the two of you are optimistic, thinking it’s simply a scene that alludes to the two getting intimate but no.

The scene continues on explicitly, down to the finest details of what Yasuhiro and Ryoba sound like during the deed. The two of you frantically flip the script as Kita and Kasumi watch on, knowing they’ll face your wrath once the two of you go through the whole script.

You two counted a total of 10 sex scenes for 12 episodes, with the first 9 episodes having at least one sex scene, one of the episodes even has two. Unfortunately for you two, Kita and Kasumi had failed to make sure just what the sub-genre of the series is before they accepted the contract on your behalf.

“Are you two insane?!” You shriek in horror as you hide your face in your hand. “An erotic horror series? Are you trying to kill us?”

“I didn’t have much trust in Azuma-san to begin with, but you, Kita-san? I had so much faith in you!” Suna fumes. “We can’t do this!”

“I’m so, so, so sorry! Eita told me about the offer and since he’s also going to be in the series, I thought it would be safe for you two to do it!” Kasumi trembles. “We both didn’t know it would contain this many sex scenes until we were handed the script as well!”

“We’ve already agreed to the contracts on your behalf as you two instructed.” Kita adds calmly, yet there’s a look of remorse in his eyes as he keeps his gaze away from the two of you. “I made the same mistake as Azuma-san as the twins are also starring in the movie and I assumed it would be a do-able movie.”

“You trust the Miyas? The two boneheads that are just there to attract female fans no matter how shitty the movie is?” Suna asks incredulously, massaging his temples from the frustration. “I can’t believe this, we can’t even back out from this.”

“Kasumi, mark my words when I say I’m going to hunt that stupid boyfriend of yours down and actually murder him.” You say with a murderous gaze. “That son of a bitch has fucked me over far too many times!”

“You still won’t let that one time go…?” Kasumi mumbles.

“Kasumi! I almost had to hold a press conference ‘cause he couldn’t keep his dick dry for just two hours! And it’s not just that one time!”

Kita flinches at your reaction and it seems to know just how royally he and Kasumi fucked up. The expressions both you and Suna are wearing are ones he’s used to seeing on a screen, he has never thought he’d feel like the characters on the screen receiving your murderous glares, yet he feels his spine shivering at this very moment. “We apologise deeply…” He mutters, averting his gaze once more.

“I can’t believe this…” You mutter under your breath as you reach for your cigarette pack, lighting one up quickly to ease your anger.

Suna snatches the cigarette pack wordlessly and lights a stick for himself, clicking his tongue as the nicotine barely does anything to ease his nerves. “When is the first day of shooting?” He asks.

“In two months. We requested to leave all the sex scenes until the last possible second.” Kita answers.

Two months.

You and Suna have two months to mentally prepare yourselves to give the best possible performance for this shitshow of a series you two got dragged into. You glance over at Suna and he seems to be thinking of having a discussion with you, if the glint of desperation in his eyes says anything.

“You two stay here.” Suna says as the two of you stand up to go to his spare room, which he uses to rehearse his lines, to start the discussion with you.

Once the door closes behind you, you immediately start the deep discussion, trying to find a solution to the sticky situation on hand. “Should we try to negotiate with Director Nekomata to make the sex scenes less explicit?” You start, pacing around the room.

“We can always try that… can we also try to negotiate to just… erase the scenes completely? Like, make it allude to Yasuhiro and Ryoba just… having sex without us having to act it out.” Suna asks before taking a drag from his cigarette, watching you pace around the room as he leans on a wall.

“That’s wishful thinking. Sex is actually a major plot point in the movie.” You sigh and take a drag of your cigarette, pulling the smoke in before blowing it out. “The sex scene in episode 3 foreshadows just how much the cult keeps a close eye on Yasuhiro and Ryoba, episode 4 is when the demon activity starts, episode 6 is when it starts to escalate, episode 8– why are they even having sex when they have a feeling their lives are being threatened?!”

“That’s true. I guess, episodes 7 to 9 are some sort of desperate attempt to… regain some sense of normality?” Suna says as he sighs. “And what’s up with the double sex scenes for episode 9?”

“Ryoba accidentally fucks the demon, bro. That kinda, like, marks the end of whatever normality Yasuhiro and Ryoba had.” You answer, remembering the slight detail for the post-credit scene in episode 12. “The aftermath of that fiasco is also shown in the post credit scene for episode 12 when it turns out the kid Ryoba has isn’t actually Yasuhiro’s kid, but the demon’s instead.”

“... Should we still try to make our managers suffer a little by asking them to somehow reduce either the amount of sex scenes or make them less explicit? Maybe even both?”

You stop to think for a moment before you nod. “Fine, I guess we can still always try.” You say as you stop pacing the room. “It’s going to be so fucking weird to see you moaning and shit.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Suna grumbles as he walks to the door to tell your managers of the conclusion of your discussion.

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Taglist: @mirophobic @atrashsith @lilith412426 @rntrsuna @reignsaway @fallenisded @sunaemoby @buttercupp-baby @akari-fujikawa @omlxlaure @soonajeeme @nicerthanu @lifeisnotyahoo @toges-cough-syrup (Drop it here to be included in the taglist!)

[insane4fandoms]

How have you been doing lately? Is WTKSAF coming along well? (No pressure/rush, of course. The first chapter is very nice and promising, just remember self-care.)

One reason I’m asking is because A. I’m curious about the darker parts of the plot, and B. though I have several WIPs on my own plate...well, your recent doodle-pages really inspired me. So, I’ve been writing something specifically for you, and it’s almost finished! (I just hope you don’t mind longer stories 😅)

(Plus, a bonus joke-snippet for you might also be on my roster after I’m done with this because sometimes I have no self-control. We shall see, lol.)

Well good news for you my dear friendo of mine, because I was using all this to edit and written down the nitty gritty details of my story, and I was actually going to publish TWO chapters tonight!! 🕺🕺🕺

I’ve also been preparing on other events for the summer such as a comic con and relapsing into my old hyperfixations, so I’ve been busy lmao 😭

But do not fret, for I will grace you all with two more chapters, and even some art for it too 😏

The dark parts will be attempted, but I will guarantee it will give some shivers. We will save this little mismatch group from this maniacal nightmare of a murder in a bunnysuit

So stay tune!!

Also-

You got some stories written for me? 👉🏽👈🏽 twirls hair/J

[ctcomix]

DYNAMO HEROES HERO WATCH ISSUE #1

22/11/24 - Prologue & Chapter 1 Retrospective

Hello! My name is Andrew and I’m the creator of a webcomic called Dynamo Heroes! Recently the first chapter of the comic ‘The Medallion’ finished uploading onto Webtoon and Tumblr, and I wanted to take a moment to look back on the past few months. I’ll also be showcasing my favourite comments and dropping random lore and doodles cos why not. Mostly I’m gonna dump a load of thoughts I’ve had lately!

Random Thoughts

WHAT THE HECK - 30 subs in three months on webtoon??? Won’t lie, I thought that I’d get little to none during the first arc, or at least the first few chapters. Maybe my dreams of getting 50 subs by next summer will actually happen?? My overall goal is 100 subs altogether so!!!! It’s happening!!!

Oh, I wanted to clear up some things about the comic’s structure cos i’ve planned out a good chunk of the story. This first ‘arc’ is about 10 chapters long, and most of the comic’s arcs are about 10-20 chapters long with the longest written so far being Arc 8 with 19 chapters. As of this newsletter, I’m in the middle of writing Arc 9, and the last chapter I finished writing was chapter 131 pfff

This is prose written btw - not like comic script which is a format I’ve looked into before, but prose writing is just easier for me to adapt into comic since I can really go into the character’s headspace and do appropriate expressions and body language.

Also! I found this old photo of working on the chapter back in 2022, feat. Sushi

CHAPTER ONE THOUGHTS

The Medallion (and Prologue) is done and out there, and I have a lot of regrets… I mean, I’m kidding - I’m just a bit shook by the artwork quality. In case you missed on that one random post I did on Tumblr at like page 22 or so, a majority of these pages were created over a year or two ago - especially the prologue which i worked on in 2021… when I decided I had a large enough backlog (about 150 pages) I had gotten SO much better at art and creating comics, so I decided to redraw the Prologue, which the original looked SO bad compared.

Original Prologue:

New Prologue:

Yeah, I'm glad a redrew it lol. I also redrew the first scene of chapter one (pages 17 to 21), and wanted to redo a few more pages, but my partner convinced me not to so I can actually upload the dang thing… This comic has been in production for at least three years after all. If I just redrew all the pages again, it would NEVER see the light of day. Truthfully, I was procrastinating. I was scared of posting.

Alas, here we are. Sam has the medallion and Chester (Puppet) is being difficult about the whole thing. There’s not really much more I can say, the story hasn’t really got going yet. I can say though, that you can probably tell I was so obsessed with Chester while writing this arc lol. Also Circe. I love Circe.

Comments

Of course, I have to shoutout the first ever comment Dynamo Heroes received:

‘Request: please give Sam prehensile hair powers please?@@’

Thank you, Nable#. Your comment was truly a gift. Unfortunately, Sam will not be getting prehensile hair powers, but that sounds like a cool concept! I’ll definitely consider it for a future character!!

Next up I want to shoutout and thank brotheboss for being such a BRO and leaving a comment on almost every page so far - I’m always looking forward to hearing your thoughts, even if it’s just ‘uh oh.’ (that being said, if you’re reading this brotheboss, please don’t feel pressured to comment! Comment and read if and when you wanna :)) I think my favourite brotheboss comment in this first chapter was:

‘puppets ponytail goes crazy ngl’

This comment gave me a crazy big smile. It DOES go crazy doesn’t it? Thank you!

Finally, I'd like to thank Dr Everlasting for the shoutout to a TV show i’d never heard of called ‘The Greatest American Hero’ - I’m definitely gonna check it out, looks super charming!

Thoughts of the Future

I’m going to try keeping this whole newsletter short, obvs i haven't been able to stop yapping so far, so I’ll fill this section with sections I want to add to the newsletter once the comic perhaps has more of a following. I’m sure whoever’s reading this rn isn’t that invested in myself and this comic to keep reading past the first couple sentences, so if you’ve made it this far thank you! Or you’re my partner, to which I say hi honey : P

A section I’d like to add maybe is a script to screen type comparison - where I compare a section of the original prose to one of the pages and explore my thought process with changes and creation and such. I’m not so sure about adding this one, we’ll see.

Another section I’d love to do someday is popularity polls - y’know like in shonen jump? This comic is going to get SO many characters and I’d love love looove to see who’s peoples favourites from arc to arc, or like favourite moments/scenes etc. I think it’d be super fun! I think I’d like to hold a popularity poll when we get to 100 subs!! Let's make it happen!!

CONCLUSION

Ummmm,, that’s it! For now! I’m gonna be writing another one of these at the end of chapter 2 so hope to see you there! Thanks!!! To end off here's some random out of context teases of chapter 2:

Thanks again! Have a good day! TODAY'S STATS:

Views: 2179 Subs: 34 Likes: 226