#gotta figure out how that would work in Shape form

[sippybug]

more flatland musings

[whatswrongwithblue]

Imagine Angel Dust questioning you on your sex life with Alastor

Part 2

“C’mon toots, you gotta give me something!”

“I absolutely do not,” you say stubbornly, turning away from the spider demon but he just scooted closer to you on the couch, practically looming over you.

“Pleeeaaase. I can’t figure the guy out. He’s all flamboyant and goofy one minute and then terrifying and menacing the next. How does that translate in bed? Is he a bottom? A switch? A top?” Angel leaned impossibly closer, his voice taking on a more conspiratorial tone. “Does he let you peg him?”

“Angel!” you exclaimed, leaning over the side of the couch to get away, “that is really none of your business! And he would rip your arms off if he heard you asking such things.”

Angel Dust huffed, frustrated, and folded both sets of arms across his chest, practically pouting.

“This is just unfair. I tell you so much about my work, I don’t hold anything back.”

“I wish you would,” you mumbled, recalling the last disturbingly detailed conversation you were forced to listen to. You still shuddered when you thought about your friend participating in “sounding” or “donkey shows.”

“Alright, well you gotta at least tell me this much,” he said, sitting back up and holding two hands up in front of him. “How big is the guy?”

You shook your head, trying to pull out your phone and ignore him.

“This big?” he asked, holding his hands out about 8 inches apart. “Or this big?” His hands got a couple inches farther apart. “Or, I know, he’s gotta be like THIS big, huh?” Angel’s hands were now over a foot apart from each other.

“Oh my God, don’t be gross Angel, that wouldn’t even fit inside of me.”

“Okaaaaaay,” Angel said with a smirk, “so not as big as some of the Hellhounds I gotta take up the ass.”

“Please stop,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“Not until you tell me something juicy about your boyfriend.”

“Ugggghh, seriously, fine,” you say, defeated, and Angel sat forward eagerly, “I mean you’ve obviously seen him shape shift into taller forms. So, let’s just say . . . he’s as big as he . . . or I . . . want him to be.”

“Hmmmm,” Angel said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go off of but I think I like your way of thinking. So, like this big then?”

You didn’t even look over to see how far apart Angel’s hands were now.

“What’s the record for how many times he’s made you cum in one night?”

“Angel, you said you would stop!” you yelled, feeling a blush begin to heat up your face.

“A lot huh? Because that, my friend, is the face of a woman who’s lost count,” he said with a knowing smirk.

“I am not dignifying that comment with a response.”

“I’m just sayin,’ I’ve seen you first thing in the mornings. You have the look of a gal who’s well satisfied.”

“Well, I am,” you say, “but that’s all decency will allow me to say. Alastor is a very private man and you should respect that.”

“Decency Schmeecency,” Angel said, throwing himself back into the couch cushions and picking up his own phone, looking bored with the conversation now. “This is Hell, there’s no such thing.”

Relieved he seemed to be dropping the subject, you pick up your own phone and enjoy a couple minutes of silence to scroll through your Sinstagram feed.

“Oh fuck me!” Angel exclaimed, startling you and making you drop your phone.

“What?!”

“That guy has got tentacles!”

There was no stopping the rush of blood to your face then . . . or the little smirk you just couldn’t seem to stop, though you did try and look away.

“Ooooooooh, oh doll face, you can’t hide that look from me,” Angel said, practically crawling over the couch to invade your space once again, “he has totally used those on you, hasn’t he?”

You turned to look at Angel, another retort about privacy ready on your tongue, but your eyes widen in horror as you see two shadowy tendrils raising up behind your friend’s back.

Angel registered the look on your face and sat back an inch.

“Wha-“

The tentacles grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back to his side of the couch, and holding him down.

“I believe the lady said something about decency,” Alastor’s staticky voice said from somewhere behind the couch and then his shadow rose up from the ground before solidifying into the full glory of his demonic form. His body unnaturally long, antlers spread out wide, he towered over the spider demon he had pinned to the sofa.

“S-s-sorry man,” Angel said with a loud gulp, “I was just kidding around, you know,” he tried to chuckle nervously. “I-it was just girl talk.”

“Alastor,” you said, unbothered by your lover’s terrifying demonic appearance, “let him go. He’s harmless.”

“Hmmm,” Alastor said, tilting his head, eyes glowing brighter as he put on a show of considering the prey he had trapped in his tentacles. “Fine.”

Alastor dropped the tentacles from around Angel and within a blink of an eye, was back to his usual form, straightening his bow tie and brushing off the sleeves of his jacket.

“Ready for our lunch date?” you said, bouncing up off the couch and coming to stand by Alastor, who smiled down at you and looped an arm through yours.

“Sounds lovely, darling,” he replied, guiding the two of you around the back of the couch and towards the front of the lobby. “I’m positively starving.”

At the word “starving,” Alastor leaned over the couch, his glowing, toothy expression letting Angel know just how close he had come to being the cannibal’s lunch.

Angel sank deeper into the couch cushions in submission, eyes wide and fixed on Alastor, as the two of you headed for the front doors.

Alastor opened the door, but you paused after stepping through, grabbing the handle and shooting your friend a mischievous smile and wiggling your eyebrows in a suggestive manner at him. It was your own way of confirming his last line of questioning before Alastor had interrupted. You watched Angel’s jaw drop open and then closed the door, leaving him to his imagination.

Husk, who had been silently watching the entire thing from his place at the bar, began laughing.

“Yeah, he totally fucks her with those things,” he said, before taking a swig from his beer bottle. “Did you see the way she looked at them? She was almost jealous when he had you pinned to the sofa.”

“Jesus Christ,” Angel said, still panting a little. “Yeah, I don’t blame her. That was hot as fuck.”

[hansoeii]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day/night! I absolutely adore your art, you are one of my favourite artists. I love the way you shade and do backrounds. Also everytime I get into a new show I immediately see your art for it??

I was wondering if you had any advice on drawing more realistically (backrounds, anatomy etc) but still keeping a style?

Hey hey!

Thank you so much!

I have a pretty good understanding of facial structures, because before I got into drawing more semi-realisticly, I heavily focused on realistic portraits. Here are some example, these are from around 2019!

(yes, I was really into danmei and kpop back then, haha)

I just always loved drawing/painting faces and it was all I did. But at some point I realized that I wanted to do more than that because just portraits felt super restricting. So it took me around 2-3 years to somewhat find my style. Thought it would be fun to show a little timeline! Advice will follow afterwards :)

2020

I began working on my OCs in 2020 and since I didn't have an exact reference to work off of, I struggled a lot. My art from this year is super wonky.

2021

Still wonky, but the Lokius obsession was the jumpstart into finding my style! My work from this year is all over the place haha, I was experimenting a lot.

2022

This first ofmd piece is pretty much the first drawing where you can see where my style is gonna go, which I think is pretty cool! This is the year I made the biggest progress cos I was drawing SO much. These two pieces are only six months apart. The one on the right was the first time I gave drawing a background a proper go, too! It was a good year.

2023

And this is where I am now! I'm still constantly learning and improving, but I'd say I have a style you can recognize now!

Now here comes some actual advice, haha:

What I highly recommend you to do is to study your favorite artists as much as you can! I have like 5 A4 sketchbooks all from 2020 that I filled with sooooo many studies, where basically all I did was look at artists I like and copy how they draw stuff, to try and figure out how to stylize certain things. Some of my favorite artists are Ami Thompson, Velinxi and TB Choi. But I also liked to just scroll through pinterest and study all the art I came across that I liked! For example, if I saw a really great drawing of a pair of pants I would copy it many times in my sketchbook and try to learn how they stylized the folds. Doing this for a prolongued period of time will naturally improve your own work! It'll be difficult at first, but you gotta push through, it's gonna be worth it!

I also highly recommend studying unique faces to try and avoid the same-face syndrome. Find some cool looking people and try to draw them as simple as you can! Maybe even draw a little timeline where you first draw them as cartoon-y as you can, and keep going until you end up with a more detailed, realistic drawing. Maybe in the middle of it you find a step that feels the most fun to you, so you can try to build on that! It's a great way to figure out what kind of style might be the best for you.

Here are some cool faces I found on pinterest!

I have a pinterest board with many more!

One REALLY important part of learning how to draw all kinds of things is to understand forms and shapes and how to manipulate them. I have so many pages in my sketchbook filled with just shapes that I drew from all kinds of angles without any references.

This is a great video on it:

6 Ways to Draw Anything by Proko

Learning how to do this is so crucial! Young artists often think they first have to learn all kinds of detailed anatomy before doing anything else, but all that's gonna do is make you tired and hate drawing. Shapes are where it's at! Once you understand how shapes work and which ones to use for certain parts of bodies or objects, drawing is gonna get so much easier! Once you understand them, you can get into details such as muscles and bones!

And honestly the most important point is to just absolutely love what you're doing! I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for the fact that I get extreme hyperfixations on certain media that turn me into some kind of beast where I can suddenly draw 10 detailed illustrations a week, haha. Just be passionate about what you do, find something you REALLY love and go crazy!

I really hope this was somewhat helpful! My inbox is always open if there's any more questions :)

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 19: Pathology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Mikey wakes up to the sound of shouting and yelling.

"Oh, no.... oh no... oh no, oh no, oh nonononono...! Why today? This couldn't have happened like, last week, or maybe next month?!"

Mikey wonders what could be so upsetting to Leo. There's the sound of rushing back and forth, people shouting and whining and acting all terrified. He watches from his room as people keep running past his door.

A figure stops in his doorway -- Leo, by the smell and voice -- and flicks on the lights while yelling worriedly. The lights blind him momentarily as his vision switches from heat-seeking to binocular.

"Mikey! We gotta get you somewhere safe, bud..."

"Why?" he croaks.

Mikey doesn't even have to get out of the hammock before Leo scoops him up -- blankets and all -- and starts running with him.

"Dad's sick with rat flu!"

"Huh?"

"You don't remember rat flu?" Leo asks, looking down at Mikey as he runs. "Well, uh... it's this whole thing, it would take too long to explain. Basically, he gets a really bad cold and has weird symptoms. We don't wanna risk you getting infected just yet, so I'm having you bunker down in Dee's lab."

Mikey isn't sure what is going on, but everyone seems frantic. Leo drops him off in the lab, where Casey is also hiding out.

"Are you sure we'll be safe in here?" Casey asks, watching as Mikey is gently set down on the floor, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

"Probably... Splinter will be more focused on us than you, so all should be well... Have you ever seen rat flu, Casey?"

"A few times, though I don't remember much," Casey says with a shrug. "It happened mostly when I was a toddler, and before we had to eat Master Splinter."

"Okay, well, there's the seven stages -- wait, what?"

Leo shakes his head and holds up his hands.

"Nevermind, forget I asked, moving past, I don't ever want to know that story..."

"It was the apocalypse, we were running low on food, and his last wishes were--"

"But back to the rat flu!" Leo interrupts loudly, "Splinter will be going through the full seven stages, and those are way too chaotic for Mikey to be caught up in just yet. Besides, we don't know how well he's going to react to the flu if he should get contaminated by the germs. It's safest to just keep him in preemptive quarantine for now..."

"Alright, so what's first?" Casey asks, sitting next to Mikey.

Mikey shuffles just a bit away from him, eyeing Casey's hands nervously as his brother explains.

"First stage is fever, which -- oh man, I totally forgot about that..."

"What?" Mikey asks, concerned for why Leo is getting so bent out of shape. "What wrong?"

"Dad's first symptom is he gets overheated from the fever, so he cranks the AC all the way up," Leo groans, rushing out and shouting to the others. "Raph! I need blankets and a heater, stat!"

"Cold?" Mikey asks nervously.

"Yup, very cold. But we'll be prepared, don't worry," Leo says, as Raph rushes in with a stack of quilts and a heater.

"Will this be enough?" Raphael asks, handing half of the stack to the leader.

"I think so... Casey, there's a hoodie here, you should bundle up too," Leo says, throwing the oversized shirt at the future boy while Raph wraps Mikey up like a burrito.

"Danger?" Mikey asks nervously, watching Raph.

"No, there's no danger, it's just crazy and confusing," Raph reassures him.

Mikey can smell the fear. He can hear the nervous twinge in his voice. He can see the wrinkles on his head forming.

But Mikey trusts them. They may be scared, but they will help.

Mikey snuggles into the quilts and hums. Leo and Casey set up the heater before the two brothers leave the room.

"Casey knows how to work the door, so if anything goes wrong, he'll open it up, okay? But unless you hear one of us say something, keep this door locked for now."

"Leo safe? Raph safe?" Mikey asks.

"Sure! Like I said, it's just a flu."

Leo hands a communicator to Casey before he winks at Mikey, his smile strained and thin. The doors close with a hiss and a click, bolting from the inside out.

Mikey and Casey sit quietly as they wait.

Soon enough the air seems to chill, and their breaths can be seen as fog in the room. Mikey squirms in discomfort, pulling the blankets closer. Casey starts to shiver.

The communicator beeps, and Leo's voice chimes in.

"Stage one is in progress. You guys okay?"

"We're f-f-fine," Casey chatters. "K-k-keep us upd-d-dated."

"Will do."

The line clicks, and the two sit in silence.

Mikey shivers. The blankets help, but he can still feel the frigid chill of the air through the sheets. It doesn't hurt yet, but it is uncomfortable. The floor is ice under him. He tucks the quilts under his feet and legs as he tries to insulate himself better. He looks over to see Casey suffering by the heater. Mikey chirps at him to get his attention.

"Sh-sh-share?" he asks.

Casey looks Mikey up and down before nodding. Mikey hops over and opens his fortress, a gush of icey air whooshing in and stabbing his unprotected legs. He gasps and hisses through his teeth as Casey slides in and helps wrap the blankets around them again.

"The shared body heat will h-help," he says, his shivers shaking him to the core. "Thanks. I-I-I didn't think you l-liked m-m-me anymore..."

Mikey frowns.

"M-Mikey not h-hate Casey..."

He slinks into his shell a bit more.

"...Mikey s-s-scared of Casey..."

"Scared?" Casey stares wide at Mikey. "Why?"

"Mikey... not r-r-rem-member-r Casey. But Cas-s-sey human, humans scare Mikey," he whimpers.

Mikey hides his face under the blanket. Or maybe he's just trying to keep warm.

"Humans mean. Hate Mikey. Hurt Mikey. Mikey scared a lot... Mikey scared."

Casey sighs.

"I guess that makes sense. I-If I'm honest, I'd probably be scared of humans t-t-too..." He wraps his arms around the bundle. "But I'm glad you told me. I thought you just hated me!"

Mikey huffs, a shivering chuckle.

"Mikey th-th-thought C-Casey hate Mikey!"

"What? Why?"

"C-C-Casey-y look s-sad," Mikey explains. "Casey look sad at brothers, too. Casey l-look s-scared of Mikey..." Mikey sighs at the last sentence. "Mikey scares brothers. Mikey see. Mikey scary."

"You're n-not scary!" Casey lies. "We're just... concerned for your health. You went through a lot of injury, and we weren't there to help you. That's what scares us."

Mikey peeks up at him. CJ gently presses his head against Mikey's.

"We... we were so terrified, Mikey. You have no idea how happy I was to see you back... last week without you was a nightmare. I've never seen Leo so scared, and I saw him sacrifice everything to send me--"

He clears his throat.

"Uhm... getting off-topic. What I-I'm trying to say is... we're not scared of you, we're scared for you."

Mikey gives him a shy smile. He knows that Casey is lying. He can smell it. But Casey doesn't want to hurt him. Mikey purrs, nuzzling Casey's shoulder. CJ chuckles and pulls Mikey closer.

A moment later, the communicator beeps again.

"Stage two! Repeat, stage two, wild rat man! Donnie has been compromised!"

Casey pulls his wrist up to his face and leans in.

"What's going on out there?!"

"Donnie got pancaked by Splinter, he's quarantined now."

The boys hear a feral squeal over the comm lines, and both eyes go wide.

"S-S-Splinter-r-r?" Mikey asks.

"RUN!" a shout over the comms comes in. "Raph, this way, this way!!"

"W-w-ait, if Splinter's past the f-f-fever s-stage, then why is-s it still s-s-so c-c-c-cold-d-d???" Casey chatters.

"I told you, Donnie got quarantined! He hasn't rebooted the AC yet, and we're on a whole new system now so-- OH WAIT NO LOOK OUT!!"

There's a scuffle and a shuffle heard over the comms, and the two boys listen in intense silence. After a moment, Leo comes back onto the comms.

"Okay, we're good. Close call. How're you two holding up in there?"

"Cold," Mikey complains.

"We'll get to work on resetting the AC. Raph got Donnie's S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 to lead Splinter away for the moment... I think we're in the clear..."

Several minutes pass by. Mikey and Casey sit in the lab, cold and waiting. Ten minutes go by. Fifteen.

Mikey's body starts jerking, seizing, convulsing. The pain starts to set in, his body can't handle the low temperature. He gasps, a sharp stabbing sensation in his chest that aches and spreads across his body. He doubles over, clutching his chest with one hand and gripping the blankets with the other.

Casey pulls him closer. Mikey is pressed against his chest, he can CJ's his heart beating. He focuses on that.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Casey pulls the comms up again.

"Guys, what's the holdup? Mikey's starting to--"

The lights go out. The heater shuts down. The door hisses and a loud click echoes in the room. Mikey yelps and hugs Casey.

"That's... not good...."

The comms click.

"Ah! Ninja supreme! Stage four!!"

"What happened to stage three?!" Casey shouts. "What have you been doing this whole time?! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!"

"He's in the vents!" Raph shouts through the mic.

Mikey hears scratching and scurrying from above. Mikey makes a quick sound, a yelping chirp to warn Casey, before Splinter suddenly descends from the ceiling vents and lands with a smoke bomb on the floor. Mikey and Casey scramble in opposite directions.

The blankets fall off of Mikey's shoulders. He whines in pain, holding himself tight as the cold causes his body to go rigid like he's been frozen solid.

His tail jerks, curling around him in snapping movements, like he's a disc been scratched too many times and it keeps freezing and playing one moment at a time. It's agony, it's killing him, Mikey can't breathe anymore... his lungs feel like they're collapsing inside of him, his bones turn seize up and go stiff in place, his head is buzzing with pins and needles, and his limbs feel like freezer-burn.

Splinter -- in his full ninja garb -- crouches over Mikey and touches his shoulder, inspecting him. Mikey winces, the meager warmth from his father's hand burns against the ice that is his scaly skin. Casey shouts out Mikey's name, and Splinter dashes away into the darkness.

Casey rushes over to Mikey, checking him for injuries.

"Mikey? Mikey!! Michelangelo!! Oh no, oh no... can you hear me?"

Mikey tries to lift his head up to talk to him. He can barely move it, it feels stiff and it hurts to turn his neck. He manages to move his eyes to look up at Casey. He opens his mouth, trying to force out words, a croak, a whimper, anything. All he can manage is a ragged and laboured breath, a gasp for air as he writhes without moving.

"I'm gonna get the guys, I'm gonna get you warm, just stay with me!"

Mikey loses all feeling in his limbs. His tail stops moving. His torso goes numb before it too becomes lost in static. Mikey turns some kind of ghost, and nothing can touch him anymore, and nothing hurts anymore. His ears start ringing, a stuffy distortion that blocks out most sounds. Casey Jr. is two feet away from him, but his voice is far far away. Time slows down, an tormenting eternity that is all of three seconds long.

"Stay with me, Mikey! Stay... stay..."

Everything goes dark. Mikey's eyes slip shut.

He exhales softly.

He doesn't inhale.

.

.

.

"We have to find some way to keep him in line!" Dr. Timothy shouts. "Otherwise, he'll be running rampant throughout the labs!"

"Dr. Chaplin is working on a device that can control--"

"I know what he's working on, Abigail," he interrupts. "But that device won't be ready for quite some time, and we need something now!"

"Then, perhaps we turn to biology?" she offers.

"How do you mean?"

"This specimen has several different species genetic code integrated into his DNA. Perhaps we can find some weakness within the genetics to use against him, should the necessity arise."

"Hm... that could work. Nothing lethal, of course, just uncomfortable for him. Did you have anything specific in mind?"

Mikey watches from his cage as the two scientists look over a series of codes before turning back to look at him.

"Could work..." Timothy mumbles.

"We'll never know unless we try," Abigail replies.

Mikey watches as the two walk out for a moment before coming back in, wearing thick jackets. Timothy turns the air down. Mikey is confused until he starts to jerk slightly. What's... what's happening to him? Why does the air hurt?? Timothy watches him start to shiver and convulse.

"I was right," Dr. Abigail Finn says with a sly smile. "The three reptile DNA mixings have caused a severe reaction to brumation. His system goes into shock."

"Let's see how much he can handle," Timothy chuckles before grabbing a fire extinguisher and soaking Mikey in a cold foam.

"What are you doing?!" Abigail asks, moving away from him.

"Conducting an experiment, of course."

Mikey screams in pain before toppling over. It burns with how cold it is.

"We'll have to weaponize this," Dr. Timothy laughs. "Should be simple enough to concoct a device that can create cold gusts of air... I'll have Honeycutt get to work on the designs..."

Mikey shivers, drowning in the icy cold pain...

.

.

.

Mikey's consciousness slowly thaws. It's still dark... his body is still numb and lost... but there's... sound...

"...Mikey... poor guy... should be getting warmer..."

"...didn't mean to, I tried..."

"...not your fault, Pops, just what happens..."

"...should have done better... it's been hours... is he okay?"

"...brumation...body slows down... he'll be fine..."

"...getting a pulse, he's breathing again...!"

"Mikey? Can you hear us?"

Mikey moans, the first part of his body he can (sort of) control. He hasn't been this tired since... since... some time ago. The first mutation. Not that he really remembers much of it...

Mikey's eyes softly open. Light shines in. His whole family is here. Casey is here. Everyone is watching over him. When did they all get here? Where has Mikey been in this absence of consciousness?

Uggh, he feels awful.

Leo comes into view.

"Heyyyyyy, mi hermano. Can you hear me?"

Mikey nods weakly. At least, he thinks he does. He still can't sense much. The feeling comes in slowly, soft prickling and paresthesia. The first thing he feels is extreme heat and shaking. He's shivering. Still? But it's so hot...

Hot... but... he likes the warmth... so why is this unbearable?

Mikey moans again. His head is swimming. His breathing heavy, it's hard to get the air into his lungs. Mikey squirms, sweat breaking out across his brow and under his arms as he shakes.

"Mmnghh... Mikey no... feel... good..."

Leo presses the back of his hand against Mikey's head. It's not cold, but against the feverish heat emanating from Mikey, it's heavenly chilled. Leo winces, his brow furrows in concern.

"You're burning up... Dad, when you broke into Dee's lab, did you touch Mikey? Do you think you might have infected him?"

Splinter's eyes widen as he realizes.

"Oh... I think I might have..."

"So, is Mikey sick now?" Raph asks. "He's got rat flu, too?"

"Why is it just hitting him now, when he was infected hours ago?" Casey asks.

Hours...? Mikey's been a ghost for hours...?

"I'm guessing the brumation put Mikey's body into a sort of stasis. All body functions stopped until he thawed out," Donnie explains. "Brumation causes reptile like turtles, snakes, and lizards (all of which Mikey has the DNA of) to go into a sort of hibernation when it gets too cold. They slow down to an extreme, and might even stop breathing, but they won't die."

Mikey writhes on the bed. His tail thrashes, almost whipping Leo in the leg. Whatever is happening to him now, whether it's a side effect of brumation or whatever fever he caught from Splinter, he hates it.

Leo watches Mikey in concern.

"So, uh... no problem, no issue. We'll just take care of him while he gets over rat flu..."

"But who's gonna take care of him?" Raph asks.

"Uh...Donnie's the only one who got infected this year, and he already went through the symptoms, so he should be immune now..." Leo looks over to his twin. "Do you think you could play nursemaid?"

"You mean take over your job?" he asks snidely. "Of course. I mean, I've already lost a lot of work time on the anti-mutagen, so I might as well..."

Donnie sighs with exasperation as he taps his wrist tech, creating a checklist for the seven stages and supplies he'll need.

"Okay... so this will be interesting to see unfold. Stage 1 is fever, but Mikey's reaction to the low temperatures prohibits anything cold coming into contact with him. Any suggestions, Leo?"

"Give him lots of water, and ibuprofen. We can try to bring down his fever with warmer waters, but I'm not sure if that would help..."

"Copy that. Next stage is wild rat man... or in this case, wild Mikey. That should be fun," Donnie says, the last sentence a soft grumbling whisper. "With Mikey's animal instincts, everyone needs to be on alert. We don't know how he'll react..."

As Donnie continues to explain the seven stages again, Mikey lets himself crumble into a short-lived sleep while he waits for the rest of his body to wake up.

Stage 1: FEVER

Mikey hates this.

Every part of him aches, a dull but everlasting ache. He is constantly shifting between the heat of the sun and below freezing.

He can never get comfortable, he keeps kicking the blankets off as his fever causes delirium and slight nausea.

Donnie does what he can, having him drink as much water as possible while dabbing his face with a wet cloth. But it's all too cold, even if it's lukewarm. Against the burning inferno of his fever, it's practically glacial.

Mikey weeps at the torment his body is putting itself through. Donnie works in silence until Mikey makes some sort of rambling beg for him to talk so he knows that he's still in the room. Between the aches and the delerium, he can't always tell...

Donnie talks about his latest tech design. He talks about S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 and the upgrades he made in Mikey's absence. He talks about some of the studies he's been making into genetic mutations and modifications to the DNA and... he sounds upset. He stops talking about that and moves on to a new subject. He talks about botany or something.

Mikey groans in agony and mumbles something... not even he knows what he's saying... Donnie presses his hand to Mikey's sweat-soaked head. He grimaces at the wetness, but sighs with relief.

"I think your fever is starting to break... that's a good sign--"

"Gggggggrrrhhhh..."

"...Mikey?"

Mikey's eyes squeeze shut as he groans, grumbles, growls...

His eyes snap open, the pupils shrink into thin lines that immediately lock onto Donnie. He snarls, his teeth elongating into sharp fangs.

"...Oh banana pancakes," Donnie says flatly as he starts to get up.

Stage 2: FERAL MIKEY.

Leo and Raph are eating lunch with casey, having ordered a pizza and subs due to the day's earlier havoc. Leo plays with the pineapple and ham toppings as he frets over Mikey.

"Dude," Raph scolds, pointing at the slice going cold. "Just eat it already, or put it back in the box."

"Do you think he's doing okay?" Leo asks. "I mean, I know it's only a flu, but after everything that's happened to him already, I'm just worried what this will do to him, I mean, we have no idea how shot his immune system is already from his captivity and malnutrition, and then coupled with the mutations--"

"Leo," Raph says in between bites of his footlong. "You need to chill. I'm freaking out too, but that's not going to do any good. Donnie's got this for now, if he needs any help then he'll let us know--"

"HELP!!"

"...I think he just let us know."

The trio run out to find Dee being chased by a wild Mikey, his tail spiked and quills raised, his eyes glowing bright yellow with blood red as he chases after Donnie, snarling all along the way. Mikey slithers up the walls and ceiling, perching above them all, his head and neck twisting around as he watches them somewhat creepily.

"Oh dang," Leo says, pointing. "That's terrifying. I'm not alone on this, right? That's some 'The Ring' bone-cracking-bending-in-odd-ways type of scary?"

"Not the time, Nardo," Donnie grumbles.

"What's 'The Ring'?" Casey asks.

Mikey snarls loudly, analyzing who to attack first. His eyes stop on Raph and his sandwich.

"Uh-oh," the eldest whispers.

Mikey jumps down from the ceiling, roaring as he pounces down at his brothers. Raph shrieks in terror as he throws the sandwich at his feral brother. Mikey grabs the sub in his mouth and starts to attack it viciously, ripping it apart with his teeth and fangs, shaking it all around as he kills it dead.

"Uh, we start running now, right?" Casey asks.

"Yes. We run now."

The four make a mad dash down the hall, running into the garage and locking the door behind them.

"That... that was terrifying," Leo gasps. "I didn't know he could be that scary... was he like that when you found him?"

Leo turns to look at Raph and Donnie, who pant as they lean against the shell hogs for balance.

"Uh... more or less," Raph admits. "He was lucid when I found him, but once the other experiments were released he went kinda savage and attacked them to protect me."

"He also bit you."

Raph rubs over the spot on his wrist that Mikey punctured. It's healing fast, thanks to Draxum's genetic-whatever-he-did-to-them when they were babies. But the thought of Mikey's face when he came to and saw what he'd done... that hurt much more than any bite.

He hopes to pizza supreme that Mikey won't remember anything from the fever... poor kid probably couldn't handle it...

There's a pounding against the door.

"Agh!" Leo jumps as the loud noise echoes through the garage. "Don't let him in! The door's going to hold, right?"

"But of course!" Donnie says with a nervous chuckle. "I restructured everything after the invasion. Not even a krang could break down that door. The only thing that could get it open is --"

'Hamato Family Override Accepted,' a computer voice sounds.

"...is if someone with the code unlocks the door," Donnie moans.

The doors open slowly, revealing Splinter, standing in the doorway with an irritated expression on his face.

"Boys," he says in his scolding voice. "would you care to explain to me why you left your brother in the state he's in?"

"We had to!" Leo says, hiding behind Raph. "He was going to rip off an arm or something!"

"What are you talking about?" Splinter asks, stepping aside to reveal a very flushed Mikey with a sad expression on his face, eyes wet and pupils so wide they engulf the majority of his eyes.

Mikey sees his brothers and starts crying with joy as he rushes towards them, sloppily landing on Raph's feet and hugging his legs tightly.

"Rrrrraaaaappphiiieee!" he sings, rubbing his cheek against his big brother's ankles. "Miiikeeeeyyyy loveesss youuu..."

Stage 3: CAPTAIN CUDDLECAKES

Raph stares down in shock, frozen still for fear of what else Mikey might do. But Mikey just looks up and him with grabby hands as he cries for affection.

"Pickkkk me uuuup, Raphhiieee.... hold me, please, Raaaaaaphhie..."

"Uh... okay..." he says with hesitance, kneeling down and gently tucking his hands under Mikey's arms as he hoists him up.

Mikey's body is limp like a noodle, swaying back and forth as Raph holds him at arm's length. Mikey's face is bright red from fever, his smile dopey, his eyes half-opened and unfocused, his head lolls rom side to side. He giggles lazily, holding onto Raph's hands and slowly pulling himself closer to him, sort of crawling-slash-climbing across his arms to get to his chest.

"Raaaaaphieee.... I love Raphie... I loves him sooooooo muchesss..."

"Is... is he okay?" Leo asks, a quick giggle escaping him.

"Delirium," Donnie says knowingly with a nod. "He's delirious."

"Are you sure?" Casey asks.

"I'm an ice cream kitty," Mikey says dopily, giggling as he wraps himself over Raph's shoulders. "I'm a cat called Klunk..."

"Pretty sure," Donnie answers flatly.

"He's really cuddly," Raph chuckles, rubbing his hand over Mikey's burning head.

Mikey hums with contentment as he continues to wrap under Raphael's chin, back over the shoulders, and around his neck again...

"Uh, Mikey?" Raph gasps, as Mikey's torso and tail starting to tighten around his throat and choke him. "Mike-- that's too tight, buddy -- Mikey -- gack!!"

Donnie and Leo rush forward and try to loosen Mikey from around his brother. Mikey whines at them, tiredly slapping them away as he nuzzles Raph's face, which is starting to turn blue.

"Boa instincts," Donnie diagnoses as he tries to get Mikey to let go. "Come on, Michael, let go, let go, let -- nggh -- go!"

"Stahp pullin'!" Raph chokes out. "Gettin' tight--!"

"He won't release!" Donnie grumbles. "I don't think he understands what he's doing! It's his animal traits taking over..."

Leo's eyes brighten as he gets an idea. He starts scritching and scratching around Mikey's neck, looking for a specific spot. Mikey starts to giggle, shoulders hunching up and tail loosening. Leo gets to a spot just under the jaw on his right side and scratches. Mikey's eyes pop as he falls into Leo's hold with a mad cackle, legs kicking as he jerks back and forth from giggles. Raph gasps for air and collapses to his knees as he clutches his throat.

Mikey wiggles out of Leo's hold and onto the floor as he continues to laugh himself silly from the special spot Leo found.

"H-how... cough cough... how'd ya know that would work?" Raph hacks.

"I didn't," Leo confesses with a shrug. "I thought he'd faint like in 'How To Train Your Dragon' or something."

Mikey's laughter starts to calm, and he relaxes against the floor, deep sighs of relief as his brothers talk over him.

"I think it's safe to assume that his flu is causing his animal attributes to take over," Donnie informs. "Which isn't good news for the next stage..."

Stage 4: NINJA HUNTER SUPREME

"It's okay," Casey says, trying to calm the room. "I-I'm sure it will be fine, all we have to do is keep an eye on him aaaaaand we lost him," he groans, looking down to where Mikey had been a second ago.

"Alright, nobody panic! We're fine, we're fine, we're--"

"Achoo!" Raph sneezes.

"Welp, Raph's infected now, we need to quarantine him," Donnie groans. "Who could have seen this coming, he said sarcastically."

"I'm okay, I can just -- Achooie!"

"Yeah no," Leo scolds as he helps lead Raph to the door. "You're getting into bed. We're all sticking together too, so everyone be on the lookout for you-know-who..."

The group slowly but surely trudge towards the traincars on the other side of the lair, stopping at every doorway to inspect the rooms for Mikey. He's nowhere to be seen... and that's terrifying.

Just before they get to Raph's room, Donnie's wrist tech beeps at him. One of the motion sensors has gone off.

"Wait a sec," Donnie whispers, tapping the security footage. "I think Mikey might be in the sewer tunnels..."

"What?" Leo whispers back. "Why would he go all the way out there?"

"I'm not sure, but if he gets lost --"

"I'll go after him," Leo answers. "You guys watch Raph and help quarantine him for now before the fever sets in too bad."

Leon grabs his swords and runs to the exits. Casey watches him nervously as he helps Donnie maneuver the former leader into his bedroom as the fever starts to take effect.

As soon as Leo gets to the tunnels, he gets the eerie feeling he's being watched. He's not sure where the sensation is coming from, but three years of being a ninja vigilante and 16 years of living in secrecy under the surface of the greatest city ever has trained him to hone in on these gut feelings and sixth senses. There is someone... or something watching him.

It's unnerving.

He steps into the tunnels and looks both ways. No sign of Mikey. He takes out his comm and leans into the speaker to whisper.

"Hey Don, which way did he go?"

"*Krrsh* I don't know, I didn't see on the recording. I just saw a notif that something set off the perimeter alert. Over. *Krsh*"

Leo doesn't like this. Maybe Mikey never actually left the lair. Maybe this was all... a trap.

Leo's ninja senses tell him to be careful. He turns around quickly and looks up. Mikey is staring down at him from the ceiling.

He drops down like a spider, crashing down onto Leo, who shouts in terror as he opens a portal just beneath his feet. The two fall through, one after the other. Leo portals them back to the traincars, shouting for backup as he runs away while Mikey regains his footing and inspects the new area.

"FOUND HIM! I FOUND HIM! HELP!"

Casey and Donnie jump into the hall quickly, brandishing weapons on instinct.

Leo frantically scrapes his katanas across the floor as he runs away, creating a series of portals that surround Mikey. The feral mutant boy falls through one and pops out in a random place, three other portals boxing him in.

"There," Leon pants. "That should keep him busy for now..."

Mikey sniffs one of the portals, and his eyes widen. He steps through, following his nose and navigating perfectly through each portal, gaining speed with every step until he arrives from behind the trapped trio.

"Or not..." Leo swallows.

Mikey growls, licking his teeth as he stalks them, getting ready to leap in three... two... one...

Mikey pounces on Leo, gripping the handle of one katana between his set jaws and yanking it out of Leo's grip. He clutches onto his brother's shoulders, pinning him down as he tries to rip the second sword away.

"AAGH!!!" Leo screams, kicking wildly as Mikey snarls and drools all over him and his weapon. "GET IT OFF! GET THIS THING OFF OF ME--!!"

Donnie activates his hover-shell and directs it to attach to Mikey, lifting him up and carrying him away. But Mikey still clings tightly to Leo, who is struggling against his brother's death grip on his shoulders. Mikey's nails dig in tight, making Leo cry out in pain.

Casey jumps up and catches on Leo's feet, pulling him loose from Mikey's hold. Mikey is flown away, screeching in anger as the hover-shell turns a corner and disappears with its passenger.

"Sensei-- Leo, are you okay?" Casey asks, eyeing the claw marks with concern.

"I-I'm f-fine," Leo manages, his breath shaky and eyes wide but lost. "I... I'll be okay... I... achoo!"

"Welp, we've lost another brother," Donnie sighs as he carries Leo to his room. "I estimate that we have at least five more minutes before Mikey comes back in a new stage. Casey, you go to my lab and lock yourself in there. Reboot the security system and put the whole lair on a lockdown. We can't risk Mikey escaping, got it?"

Casey nods nervously before rushing away.

Donnie helps Leo get into bed as the fever already starts to set in.

"H-he... he really got me, huh...? Woof, why is it so hot in here???" Leo mumbles as he topples into the bed. "Why is the room spinning so much?? I don't remember booking tickets to the tilt-n'-whirl..."

"I'll get the fan going for you," Donnie mutters.

"I... I feel bad..."

"You'll feel better in a minute--"

"I called him a thing."

Donnie pauses as he looks back at Leo, who's starting to cry softly as he hugs his pillow.

"I was just scared. I'd never seen him so angry or vicious. Not even against the krang... he looked like he really was gonna kill me..."

"He wouldn't," Donnie reassures him flatly. "Mikey would never do that."

"Do you think he hates me now?" Leo whimpers. "Do you think he heard me? He'll remember that? I don't actually think of him like that, I... I don't think he's a monster, I don't... gawd, why is it so hot in here?!"

Donnie rolls his eyes as he plugs in the high-speed fan and aims it at Leo. He sighs with relief from the cold winds blowing in his face.

"We can talk about it later. Right now I have to find Mikey."

Leo hums as he falls asleep on the bed.

Donnie runs back out, closes the door to the traincar, and rounds the corner into the hallway beyond... where he finds the smashed remains of his hover-shell, and no Mikey.

Fantastic.

Stage 5: KARAOKE LOVE SONGS

Donnie can hear Mikey singing loudly. But not in English. He's howling and yowling and chirping some incoherent animal gibberish in the TV room. Splinter probably left one of his old romance soap operas on, and somebody must've busted out into a love ballad.

Donine steps closer to watch him and surveil. The noise could damage his ears with how loud and high-pitched it gets, but at least Mikey's pacified. For the moment.

Donnie messages Casey from his wrist tech; he doesn't expect that he could hear him if he tried the comms.

D: HOW'S IT GOING IN THERE?

CJ: PRETTY GOOD. ALL EXITS SECURED.

D: GREAT. MIKEY IS... SINGING (QUESTION MARK?)

CJ: LOL DOES IT SOUND THAT BAD?

D: I WOULDN'T KNOW, MY HEARING IS PERMANENTLY DAMAGED NOW.

Dee turns back to smile at Mikey, who's howling has softened and slowed to simple hums. He scratches behind his ears with his foot before getting up and dizzily trotting back to his traincar bedroom. Donnie follows from behind, staying quiet as he can. He's not sure what the next stage will do to Mikey's animal brain...

Michelangelo starts looking around his room, coughing every once in a while and sneezing on occasion before finding a large roll of paper that April dropped off some time ago. Mikey knocks it down and rolls it out, carefully setting the paints out as well. That's when he sees Donnie.

He smiles weakly and ushers him in with a soft yawn turned cough.

Donnie walks in and sits beside his brother, helping to open the jars as Mikey starts to draw images...

Stage 6: STORYTIME

Stage six is fanfiction, Donnie knows this. But for some reason, Mikey isn't making fanart or comics of his favourite characters. Donnie wonders why... he maybe doesn't recall them...? He only just remembered Lou Jitsu a few days ago, so it's not out of the question. Donnie's stomach turns when he considers that Mikey not remember that their father was Lou Jitsu...

But he's definitely drawing something. His hands still shake, and he tears the paper every other stroke, but he's making a story to tell with his art. Mikey uses his tail as a paintbrush, gentle but sloppy strokes. It's easier than finger-painting with claws. Donnie sees images of a green thing with yellow spots in a cage... needles and crude doodles of knives and pink monsters... humans in white that kick and hit and zap and freeze the poor green and yellow figure... It doesn't take long for Donnie to realize what story he's telling.

The poor green and yellow thing is crying in his cage. It almost looks like... he's waiting for something...

Then Donnie sees a purple figure. A blue one. Red.

It's them.

But Mikey omits an orange companion. Donnie points this out.

"Why didn't you draw yourself?" he asks.

Mikey looks up at him with concern, and for a moment he's worried he broke Mikey's oh-so-sensitive concentration. But instead he shakily dips his tail in the orange paint and... stalls...

The paint drips onto the paper while they wait for Mikey to make his artwork. But he doesn't.

"Do you... need some help?"

Mikey nods with a sniffle. Dee chalks that up to a runny and stuffy nose. Same with the gloopy eyes that hold tears in them, that's just some kind of irritation or fever. Not the other, more difficult thing -- emotions.

Donnie reaches over and takes his brother's tail, helping Mikey draw a stick figure with round cheeks and a mask with a bow. Mikey leans down to stare at the drawing, analyzing it with astonishment.

Why does he look at it like that? Why is he so surprised by his own image? Why doesn't he... recognize...

Mikey's eyes glaze over, as he slowly sits back up and exhales. Mikey's vision is far away, lost in thought.

Stage 7: MUST SAY YES

Donnie waves a hand in front of Mikey's face. No reaction. Donnie sighs.

"Mikey?"

Mikey turns his head to look at Donnie with a quiet mew.

"I know you'll say 'yes' to anything I ask for. So, I want you to..."

He wants Mikey to tell him why he didn't draw himself. Why he reacts the way he does when they leave him alone. Why he is so scared of Casey and April, why he didn't remember their names or Lou Jitsu or anything. Why he has a voice in his head, and what the voice tells him. He wants to ask for him to get better and get back to normal as quickly as possible. He wants to ask him to be his same old Mikey self again.

Donnie sighs.

"...I want you to get some rest and heal up. Okay, buddy?"

Mikey gives a weak smile before closing his eyes and flopping against Dee's chest, wheezing with each breath he makes. Donnie rolls his eyes and lifts his congested baby brother up into the hammock bed, tucking him in and making sure that he's nice and warm.

He steps out of the traincar after turning off the lights. He's utterly spent, he might try taking a nap too...

Until Casey runs up to him, a worried expression on his face.

"Donatello! Donatello!"

"Shh!" he shushes quickly, signing that Mikey is fast asleep and resting. "What is it?"

"I was reviewing security footage in the labs, and saw that Mikey never went outside the tunnels..."

"What? But the sensors --"

"Sensed something, yeah, so I went back and looked for what it was. I found this hiding outside the entrance to the lair," he says, reaching into one of his fanny packs.

Casey pulls out a mediocre miniature drone, complete with camera and microphone. The device is no better than scrap metal now, having been partially destroyed by Casey's weaponized hockey stick.

"It may have taken me by surprise..."

Donnie stares down at it. There's a small logo printed on the side with the initials EPF.

"...How long has it been here?"

"We got the alert around... maybe fifteen minutes ago?"

"Are there any more?" Dee asks, his tone low and frightfully serious.

"I don't know," Casey answers. "But I can do a perimeter sweep."

"Good idea," Donnie says, rushing away. "I'm going to create an invisible fence around the lair that knocks out any unrecognized tech. Then, I'm going to see how damaged this scrapheap is. If the receptor and signal output are still intact... maybe I can find out what our friends at the EPF are up to."

.

.

.

Dr. Timothy stares down at the wretched mutated human in a cage, wearing a torn and tattered uniform.

What a disgusting failure.

His face is misshapen and bearing three eyes, his arms (one of which is scarred from talon gashes and bite marks) are covered in fur, his hands are like bear claws and his feet are webbed. He is an amalgamation of random things, and now he's in the cage that belonged previously to 'Mikey'.

Timothy scowls at the mutation. It was a wild test, anyways. Nothing important. Just to see what would happen... Honestly, it was more as a punishment for damaging Mikey's brain than an actual scientific pursuit. And it's not like anyone will miss him; he was nothing important, anyways...

Nothing is important. Nothing matters now. Nothing but finding that one experiment again. The only successful mutation... Mikey.

The man in the cage whines at Dr. Timothy. He cannot speak anymore. Nothing more than a dumb animal. Which, from the intelligence he showed before mutation, is quite possibly an improvement.

Timothy kicks the cage in frustration. The man yipes and backs away, whinging like a dog.

What to do, what to do...

None of the mutations have worked right. None of them show any signs of increased intelligence. It seems the opposite, their minds decrease and their problem-solving skills evaporate. The physical toll on their bodies is heavy, and some never even survive the first round of mutation. None of them can take orders. None of them can fight with complexity and agility. None of them can be trained. None of them can understand basic commands or words or anything of the English language, or any language. They're all just stupid, dumb animals! None of them have had the success rate that Mikey did. Why? What about him was so special??

He was already mutated...

There are a handful of mutated freaks out there now, running amok and wreaking havoc. How were they changed? Why has it worked with them? What could have possibly done it for them, and why can't they recreate this phenomenon?!

Dr. Timothy has always been interested in mutations and enhancements. This reason is why he joined the science division of the EPF. He knows most of the scientists here are working to save the alien-infected citizens. And Tim is all for that! Why not help humanity? But why stop at simple cures, why not go bigger? There are some freaks running amok in the streets, a result of odd glowing bugs released upon the masses almost three years ago. These mutations have made the humans stronger, faster, better. They can withstand almost anything! They are practically indestructible! These idiots think that saving humanity means eradicating the mutants. They couldn't be more wrong.

It's the humans who need to be... shall we say, updated?

What a weak and pathetic species. Slow, soft, squishy and easily injured. Bruisable. Breakable. Like putty.

But add some extra features and a killer instinct... and you've got yourselves a prime class of creatures that can stand tall for centuries!

Why not be better? Why not be stronger?! Why can't they see that?!

Timothy wrings his hands through his hair, growling at the unfairness of the situation. If only he could get his hands on that mutie again... if only he could have Mikey back.

That is the only thing that matters to him now.

Getting that mutant turtle back.

It's all he thinks about. The good news is that they've sent spy drones into the tunnels and seem to have gotten some interesting footage before mysteriously going dead... Timothy is having another wave sent in within the next three days, max.

The others may have seen his passion for the science, but this is different. This is mania. This is an obsession...

Timothy will do whatever it takes to get that mutant turtle back into his possession, and figure out how he survived the mutations.

And then...

He will become the better man. The better, more dominant species.

The better mutant.

Prev || Next

[flightyalrighty]

(sorry if you've gotten this before or if this is not the right kind of question for the blog)

Do you have any advice on HOW to make a comic series? From what I've seen your work is fantastic, well made and written! (Cool concepts, story, and character dynamics etc)

How did you start? How DO you start?? How do you comic lol

I'm glad you enjoy my work! I'll do my best to answer this question!

I could give the ol' "Just jump in! Get started!" But I don't think that's the answer you're looking for, here. Even if it's technically the correct one.

"How do you make a comic series" Is one of those questions where the answer is kinda difficult to summarize in a single ask, because there's a whole lot that goes into it, y'know? I'll give you a brief run-down of my process.

I figure an idea for a story. In the case of Infested, the whole story was written before I even got started on the script. This is an outlier in my usual process and I don't normally do this and definitely don't recommend it.

Figure the plot like how you would figure a regular story's plot; The beats you wanna hit, the way the characters develop, the beginning, the middle, the end. What's the point of the story? What, exactly, are you trying to convey here? Who's the target audience? All that stuff ought to be figured out before even picking up a [MEDIUM OF ARTIST'S CHOICE].

Script the story. If you've seen a movie script, these things look a bit like that. You wanna not skip this step because this is where you determine the visual language of each page. Comic script writing is a whole thing and a half but I do have some random tips regarding it. -> When writing the beginning of a new scene, write down the time of day, the weather, and any important details about your setting (this is most important if you're working in a team). -> Using storyboard/film language when trying to figure out a scene is very helpful. You're not gonna remember exactly how that scene looked in your head when you finally get around to penciling it. Trust me. Write it down. Or thumbnail it! Thumbnails are also very helpful! -> Remember that you have very limited space for dialogue. Write with that in mind.

Figure the paneling on a page. I work at 11x17 and do my panel layouts based on those dimensions. I tend to make more important panels, or panels with PUNCH or SHOCK bigger than the others. Each panel is an individual illustration, but together they make a whole piece. You gotta treat it like that, y'know? Find the focal point on a page, find the most important element of it, and make that your focal point. Don't be afraid to get a lil wacky with panel shapes, either. They don't HAVE to be squares and rectangles. Check out what other cartoonists do! Get inspired! Paneling is an art-form within itself!

Page from "Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name" By Tess Stone

5. Penciling time! Get the perspective figured out, then draw the background, then draw the characters. Do it in that order. Trust me. With a background already set up, characters can be drawn more like they exist within that space, instead of floating in front of it. Also? Be aware that comic artists need to be ready to draw ANYTHING. You may have a great idea that you GOTTA put out into the world, but you have no idea how to draw, say, a car. Or debris. Or jungle foliage. There's no shame in using references, tutorials, or even doing a bit of tracing if something's outside your wheelhouse. Here's a bazillion tutorials from two guys who REALLY know their stuff.

6. Speech Balloons! Yes, really. In fact, you may want to do this and penciling at the same time. I certainly do. It's better to figure this out immediately so it doesn't hurt you later when it comes to getting your balloons to share a space with your art. Here's some great advice on the whole subject from a master of the craft

7. Inks! Line weight variation is key. Closer to the "camera" means thicker lines. If a part of a character is in shadow, that part is gonna get thicker lines, too. Personally, I make my background line art thinner than character line art. It helps the characters pop out!

8. Flats! Or flat colors if you wanna get specific about terminology. It's exactly what it sounds like -- Coloring the characters and backgrounds with the bare bones basic colors. I highly recommend keeping the character flats and bg flats on separate layers if you're working digitally.

9. Rendering! There's no hard and fast rule as to how a cartoonist ought to render their comic -- If they want to do that at all, even. Go with what you believe looks good AND is something you can do quickly. The "quickly" part is important. Heed my warning. Don't be like me.

And then I'd schedule the comic to be uploaded on whatever day suits me -- Thursday (usually) in Infested's case.

Of course, I kinda suck at relaying my process, so the final thing I can do for you is direct you to an extremely helpful book that really breaks it down in a way that may click with you as it did with me.

I hope this was in any way helpful to you!

[miffysrambles]

Hey marbles. I'm new around Tumblr and I'm still figuring out the mechanics. I tried to send a message but it wouldn't work, so I'm stuck doing a post. I love your headcannons, BTW, for Lego Monkie Kid and I had thought of something for a headcannon theme.

What if the S/O got kidnapped by a demon clan and was held for ransom and Wukong/Macaque/etc. have a set amount of time to get the ransom ready. The S/O manages to escape and returns to them just as they were reaching their breaking point.

What do you think their reactions are gonna be?

submission by @treebranches206 !!!

Wukong and Macaque With a Kidnapped! S/O

(Ahhh I loved this prompt!)

Wukong:

Wukong’s breaking point was fairly quick, like a few hours after you were kidnapped and the note arrived at Pigsy’s.

The demon clan KNEW he was training MK to be his successor so of course they left it there. 

The minute MK told him, he was already getting ready to find out where you were and fly to you on his cloud. 

Of course, MK and his team told him they needed a plan before Wukong recklessly tried to find you.

They were in the middle of forming a plan at Pigsy’s, Wukong was pacing back and forth as MK explained the plan with his drawings, his ginger tail swaying back and forth as he was lost in thought.

He was mostly thinking of what he would do to the demons once he got his paws on them.

Wukong is usually patient with his student, but right now he just couldn’t help it this time around.

“Ugh, we don’t have TIME for this kid! I gotta go find them NOW!”

He was already on his way out the front door when he was met with your tired gorgeous face.

“Peaches!”

His arms wrapped around you as he pressed kisses all over your face, his tail shaping into a heart as he shouted praises and words of relief into the air.

“Oh thank the gods you’re okay, I was so worried I was never gonna see your gorgeous face again. You’re here! You’re safe! I love you, oh I love you!”

You tiredly smiled as he pepper kissed your cheeks, the other members of the team rushing over to you to also see if you were okay.

Luckily, you weren’t injured, they mostly just kept you alone in a dark cell and you escaped by the skin of your teeth.

However, Wukong doesn’t brush it off like you would think.

Once you were safe in his arms, he used a bunch of his clones to beat the demons into the ground.

He held you close to his chest that night, his grasp heavy around you as if someone was threatening to take you away from him. 

He strokes your hair as you quickly fell asleep from how tired you were, smiling as he kissed your forehead.

“G’night peaches, you’re safe with me, always and forever.”

Macaque:

Unlike Wukong, Macaque didn’t have anyone to rationally tell him to plan his next move.

So, he went straight to getting you back any way he could.

The minute he saw the note nailed to your door as he emerged from the shadows to visit your apartment, all Macaque could feel was raw rage.

The paper wrinkled in his tight grasp, letting out a primal growl and roar of sheer anger as he threatened every demon in town to figure out where you were.

He had never heard of this demon clan before, so why did those bastards have to take you?!

Nobody in Megapolis knew the clan or where you were, leaving the dark-haired simian to search for you on his own.

Macaque was exhausted, he had been searching for you for hours at this point.

His feet were killing him, but he didn’t care. He needed to find you.

He needed you here with him, he needed to see your beautiful face and your gorgeous smile again. 

After hours of searching and the sun finally starting to rise, he finally decided to go back to his dojo to sit down and collect his thoughts before going back out the next night once again. 

His leg thumped up and down as he interlocked his fingers while looking at the wood flooring, getting lost in his thoughts.

Oh what he would do to the clan after he found them, death would be too light of a punishment.

The shadows around him started to envelop him as his thoughts grew more violent and darker, just the thought they were laying even a finger on you was too much to bear. 

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to his house was opened, his six ears twitched as he recognized your breaths.

The shadows withdrew as he rushed out of the dojo to you, seeing your tired face.

He pulled you into a tight hug, repeating praises over and over as his tail wagged from your mere presence. 

“You’re okay, thank gods you’re okay. I swear, I’ll find them sweet cheeks. I’ll beat the absolute shit out of them for even looking at you, I promise. I love you, I love you so much…”

You held him back, thankful to be in his arms once more.

If you’re wondering, yes you’re boyfriend did indeed keep his word.

After you told him where you were kept that night, he used his giant shadow smoke monster to grab them and punch them all into the dirt.

Laughing, he bore his fangs at the idiots that even dared to touch you.

“You guys got guts, I’ll tell you that much! But guts get you nowhere, I’ll show you what happens when those guts of yours decide to fuck around with someone who is not yours…”

[erismourn]

also. do you have any advice on how you draw exos. specifically when it comes to like breaking down their form in a 3d space. chewing on them /pos

ok so my 3 biggest tips for drawing exos:

USE A REFERENCE. the reason I can make my exos passable to look at is because I reference heavily. 3d models are best of course, but half the time I don't care to open up blender and look at them.

PRACTICE. do some exercises to get better at 3d shapes. trace some images of exos! tracing is a really good way to learn.

LOOK AT THE WAY OTHER ARTISTS DRAW EXOS. some artists I like are lavenderarts, rivaldi22, ninthriven, trialsofsaint14, monstyra, sylenth-l, and fmab. i look at what they simplify and what they don't, how they shade, and so on, and try to implement their tricks into my own style

this is one of my fav exercises that has helped me get better at understanding 3d shapes. it's smth I really struggle with - my brain doesn't picture objects in 3d space well, which makes driving a car very interesting. but this has helped.

this exercise just gives you an idea of volume and form that I really like. I'll fill up a whole sketchbook page with just these blobs for a warmup. it's great!

with that said I'll try to take you through my process of drawing an exo but please take it with a grain of salt as I'm still learning

some things to note:

despite being robots, exos are humanoid in shape. familiarizing yourself with human anatomy, ESPECIALLY the skeleton as exos have no skin, is really important

exos generally have the same shapes underneath their external plating, approximately the shape of a human skull (open a 3d model of an exo and remove its external face plating and you'll see what I mean)

the mouth on an exo is generally higher up than it would be on a human face. they don't have a nose to get in the way of the mouth, so the mouths are a little higher up

you can do whatever you want forever. there's a lot of stuff that I simplify when I draw exos - for example, I have very little patience for figuring out what the struts and supports inside the cheek/jaw area look like so I usually just draw them all the same unless I'm going really hard at it

when I'm drawing exos I try to focus on how the features relate to each other. I know where the eyes are supposed to go on a human face (about halfway down the cranium), so I know where they go on an exo. from there, it's about relating things to the position of the eyes.

I try to take note of important characteristics on an exo's face. I don't necessarily get as detailed as taking notes like in the image below, but this is a good start it you want to get familiar with exo features. I grabbed these two pics off destinypedia as an example

it's also important to remember that exos are very angular and have facial planes versus the smooth transitions we typically see with human skin. you don't need to necessarily draw them super precise - just a line hinting at the change of plane works wonders for making it look 3d.

these are very sloppy because I did them in like 2 minutes each but I hope it comes across how I've implemented what I said???

I hope this is helpful. you just gotta practice a lot, and if anyone faults you for your robot anatomy being off slightly they can go fuck themselves lol. everyone who draws knows that robots are hard to draw and shouldn't dunk on you for making mistakes. godspeed brave soldier

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XXV: Just Once, He Talked Back

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev

tags: this fic is rated 18+ MDNI | eddie x gn!reader, slight angst, time jump, slight rpf (nothing explicit or weird just for backstory reasons<3) slow burn, fluff (finally?!)

a/n: this is a shorter chapter!! a lil angsty a lil cutesy. a lotta lore! maybe i’m drawing this out bc i’m not entirely ready to say goodbye to fd yet. idk. don’t look at me!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

—

Your POV

You throw your phone to the floor, effectively disconnecting your line. Before long, though, you hear it downstairs. “Honey, the phone’s for you! Can you pick it up there?” Your mom calls for you again, and you groan.

“I’m not here!”

“It’s Eddie!” Your mom really isn’t getting it. You reach for your phone, begrudgingly plugging it back into the wall. It starts ringing immediately.

“What could you possibly have to say right now?”

His voice cracks over the receiver. “Baby, please. That picture was taken forever ago. I promise-“

You sigh. “When.”

“What?”

“When was the picture taken, Eddie?”

Pause. Silence. You chew on your bottom lip, regretting your question.

“February.”

“Of this year?!”

It’s Eddie’s turn to yell. “Why does it matter? We hadn’t talked for so long, she’s a friend-“

“There is no fucking way you’re just friends with Kathleen fuckin’ Hanna, Eddie! Did you sleep with her?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me!”

-

Eddie’s POV

There is no right answer to this question, he knows that. The truth is yeah, he did. Of course he did! He was high, and very drunk, and she was so beautiful, so nice to him. And he was so, so lonely. If he recalls correctly, though, he thought about you the whole time. Not that that information would help his case.

He doesn’t want to tell you, but he’s decided against lying to you ever again.

“Yeah, I did.” The line goes dead, dial tone buzzing in his ears. “Fuck!” He slams the phone back into its cradle. “I’m Sorry Wayne, I gotta go.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stick around, let ‘em cool off?” Wayne calls to Eddie from the kitchen table.

“No.” He surprises himself with how easily it comes out. “I can’t lose ‘em again. I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves dismissively at his nephew. “Go fix it. And quit doin’ stupid shit, would ya?”

Eddie chuckles despite himself. “Yessir.”

-

The flight to Boston only takes three hours, but they’re the longest of Eddie’s life, and he’s gone through alcohol withdrawal. Logan airport bustles with tourists and townies. “Whe’d we pahk the cah?” A dad turns to his flustered wife, who’s got one kid on her hip, another yanking on her hand.

Eddie hails a cab outside before remembering he doesn’t know your address. “Shit.” He mumbles, crawling back out of the taxi and jogging to the pay phone outside.

The operator connects him to Steve. “Hello?”

“Steve, man, hey. Where does Y/n live?”

“In Boston, dude. You know that.”

“No! Their address, I need their address.”

“Why would you need their address? Wouldn’t they tell you- Oh no. The magazine?”

“Yeah, the fuckin’ magazine, man! Now please, where do they live?” Steve recites an address for Eddie to scribble on his forearm. “Thank you. Lifesaver, seriously.”

“Yeah, a few times now.” Eddie laughs with him before hanging up.

-

Your POV

“Coming, jeez!” You wrap your blanket around your shoulders before answering the door, the figure before you ripping every thought from your head. Eddie stands there in a too big sweatshirt and gym shorts, a duffle bag on his arm. Your parents are out to dinner but you were too sad to go, so you’re in your pajamas with a burrito and your second drink of the evening. “What the fuck?”

“Can I explain? Please?”

“Eddie, what—“

He pushes past you into the hallway, closing the door behind him. “Please.” Is all he says, and you resign, nodding as you crawl back into your spot on the couch. He sits at the other end, too much space between you for your liking. No. Stay mad. But how can you, when he’s here? When he came here, supposedly, to make things right?

Eddie huffs a breath, and you focus your attention. “Okay. Explain.”

—

February 1992

Eddie’s POV

Seattle makes him sad now. Last time he was here, it was with you, and you were still his. The Limelight bar is dim tonight, a few locals nestled into corner booths. Eddie sits in one with colleagues, not friends. He’s not sure he has friends anymore, but these people are important, financially. According to Steve, at least.

He takes another swig of his drink, a double jack and coke, hold the coke. It’s been a dark day, still reeling from the news this morning.

As if to torture him, the screen of the tiny bar TV seems to glow, summoning him to watch. MTV returns to the air, the perky host droning on. Until he’s not, when he starts in on “The underground riotgrrl movement.” He growls the word like a confused dog, but then adds. “We have a new single from Death Dance Approximately. This is Choke On It!”

The MTV logo flickers, and then you’re on the screen, right in front of him. You and your band are dressed in suits, spread out behind a pulpit in front of pews full of stuffy adults. The camera closes up on you, in dark eyeshadow and blood red lipstick, glaring into the lense as you sing.

Left for dead to save yourself / Asked for help but got drowned out. / That fire still lives inside of me, / I just hope one day I’ll get to see…” The scene changes, and Eddie sits up straighter. The video portrays a flashback, where the character you’re playing is wearing much brighter clothing, and holding hands with a handsome actor Eddie’s probably met eight different times without realizing it. He’s got an average face, nothing remarkable about him. That is until he turns around, and his cheap costume vest has the words Corrupted Cadaver painted across the back. The logo is eerily similar to the old Corroded Coffin scrawl, from way before the band got big. It isn’t meant to let everyone know, only him. And it hits exactly where he’s sure you meant it, chest stinging from the realization.

The scene changes again, portraying the couple fighting angrily, Mr. Every Man pointing and exclaiming at your character while you cry and scream back. At some point, you throw a plate, and Eddie less than fondly recalls the time you’d almost knocked him out with a coffee mug.

“Drinkin’ alone?” A voice behind him snaps Eddie from his pity party, and he feels its owner take a seat on the booth. He didn’t think so, but when he looks around the booth he realizes all of his company has disappeared into the dark of the bar.

“Yeah, guess I am.”

“Why is that?” She leans in, resting her cheek in her hand as she stares dreamily into his eyes. He’s trying to focus on her face, her voice, the woman in front of him, but he keeps glancing at the television over her shoulder. She takes notice, and follows his eyes to the screen, where you’re burning a pile of what he can assume is your ex’s belongings, makeup bleeding down your cheeks, far more exaggerated than he’d seen on your face before, but not entirely unlikely.

“You like ‘em?”

“What?” His eyes snap back to where Kathleen observed him.

“Death Dance? You like ‘em?” He doesn’t have an answer to that. “I think they’re cool,” she muses. “Y/n is a rockstar.”

He scoffs despite himself. “Yeah, you could say that.”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “What’s that mean?”

“Nothin’, long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

-

present day

He stops, finally looking to where you sit to find you’ve stood up. You stare over him, arms crossed over your chest. “What did you tell her?” You sound almost nervous.

“I told her about us. I don’t know why she listened, or why she agreed to leave with me. She let me talk the whole time, and I don’t know if she cared or if she just pitied me, but it was nice. It felt good to talk. I hadn’t talked to anyone about it in so long.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I had no-“

“No, stop. I’m not mad at you. Most of those pictures are me anyway, Eddie. These assholes can’t just mind their own business.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to be quizzical. “What do you suppose we do about that, then?”

-

Your POV

You bite your bottom lip in thought. “We could, I dunno, ignore it?”

Eddie snorts, but his smile fades when he sees you’re serious. “Baby, I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t even remember them taking that picture.”

“That doesn’t really mean much, Eds. You were wasted.”

“Touché.” He grumbles. “But still, I think we should just. Ugh,” He doesn’t want to tell you what he’s thinking, but you wait. You have an idea of what he’s going to suggest. “I think we should embrace it. We’re together, right? In any other scenario, I’d be showin’ you off to anyone that would let me. Why should it be any different now?”

You look at him, study his expression with an unwavering stare. There is no hint of ulterior motive, no desperate urge to make you uncomfortable. He’s the Eddie you’d met six years ago, the one you’d fallen head over heels in love with instantly; just a nerdy metalhead with a huge heart. You can feel your guard crumbling, brick walls demolished, and Eddie’s swinging the wrecking ball. “If you want, of course. We can think of something else, though.” He adds, waving his hands anxiously.

“I want to. I’m so tired of this shit, letting these fuckers harass us. I want to be able to exist without feeling like I’m being watched.”

Eddie’s deep in thought, face scrunched, lips pressed together. “Okay,” He says finally, the pieces connecting in his head. “I have an idea.”

-

Eddie’s POV

“You think this is gonna work?” You lean against the bedroom door frame as Eddie dawns one of your father’s old baseball caps.

He grins, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Are you doubting my ability to play tricks?”

You giggle, and Eddie feels his face ache from smiling. “Of course not! But these leeches twist everything to fit a made up narrative that people eat up without question!”

“Which is exactly why we’ll give them something so cliche they won’t be able to help themselves.” He’s comparing different pairs of your sunglasses next to his face. “And then, they’ll get bored and move on.”

“I dunno, that last part seems unlikely.”

Eddie frowns, turning to face you. “We don’t have to do this, y’know.”

You sigh, pushing off the doorframe to approach him. You smell like lemon and lavender, and Eddie wants to bury his face in your neck. He resists, though, clearing his throat

“No, I want to. They won’t leave us alone either way. Might as well have some fun with it.” You hand Eddie the sunglasses with rounder frames. “These ones. They look like Ozzy’s.”

“God, I love you.”

—

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @potatobeanpie @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc @veemoon | send a message to be added taglist for this fic is closed!

[paperweight91]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Part 3

Summary: the aftermath of your mission with Steve.

Warnings: none

A/N: This is just a quick update as I’m somewhat stalled on this. Please leave feedback! Likes and reblogs are always welcome! ❤️

You found yourself unnervingly warm as you awoke. Unsure of your surroundings. You began to panic as you were unable to move, until you felt two solid arms wrapped around you. Suddenly it all came back to you, just as it had when you had landed back on the train. It was all real. The arms that were wrapped around you were Steve’s.

You angled yourself in his embrace to get a better look at his face. He was still unconscious. Even though he was out, the strength with which he held you was unwavering. You lifted your hand to his face and quietly whispered his name, hoping to ease him back into consciousness. His lashes twitched as you gently called to him before finally opening. His piercing blue eyes looked at you questioningly for a moment before realization crossed his face.

Slowly he got to his feet, before helping you to stand as well. “All good?” Was all he asked as he looked you over. You nodded, but before you could open your mouth to respond he was continuing. “C’mon, we gotta get back to the Quinjet, I’ll send someone else in to the retrieve the data, we need to get you back to the compound.”

With a hand on you at all times, like he was afraid you were going to shatter, he guided you out of the facility and back to the Quinjet in what felt like no time. Rather than let you sit in the back, Steve pushed you to sit in the co-pilots seat as he readied the jet for take off. It was then that you realized you must be in shock.

“I thought it wasn’t real…” You trailed off as you stared out the window. Steve reached over to you seat and put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I know, we’ll get back and get it figured out, I promise.” He was smiling at you earnestly. A look that up until now you had never been on the receiving end of. You kind of got now why all the girls swooned when Steve gave them that look.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You blurted before you could stop yourself. Sure you and Steve and shared a moment back in that abandoned hospital, but that didn’t mean you were friends now.

He gave you a befuddled look, “What do you mean?”

“Steve, let’s be honest, you’ve never really liked me. And you’ve definitely never been happy that I was brought onto the team. So what gives, why are you being so nice to me?” You were squinting at him suspiciously as you spoke. You figured this was a reason to get you off the team, maybe that was why he was being nice.

Steve sighed and stared out of the windshield of the jet for a few moments before putting it in autopilot and turning his seat to face you. “I wasn’t hard on you because I didn’t like you. I was hard on you because I was worried. All of us, in some way, shape or form on the team are enhanced. You’re not, not even a little bit. I didn’t want to put you in a situation that could get you hurt, or killed because I’m so used to working with people who are enhanced. I was scared.” He paused for a moment, like he was trying to figure out how best to articulate his thoughts.

You wanted to yell, or make a snide remark, but you found yourself agreeing with him again. Steve makes all the calls for all the missions the team goes on at the end of the day. If something were to happen because you were in a situation that was over your head, you knew you would be reluctant to ask for help. “I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

He laughed and looked confused, “You didn’t?”

“I did, I actually called you worse, but most of those were in my head, so I’m not counting them.” You gave him a strained smile, before your face fell as realization dawned on you. “Oh God, if everything on the train is real. And everything here is real - what is happening to me? Steve, I’ve been going there since I was a teen!”

He shushed you and leaned from his seat into your space. He pulled you into a tight hug, and you buried your face in his neck. He slowly rocked you as he ran his hands up and down your back. You had a flash of a memory of Curtis doing the same thing.

Your dizzy spells were getting more and more frequent. You had to find a way to make them stop. You stumbled through the tail end looking for peace and quiet. You needed the buzzing in your head to stop.

You tripped over one of the toys the children had left laying around. As you stumbled, you felt strong arms circle you from behind, pulling you back against a broad chest. You sighed at the warmth and crisp scent of Curtis, who you knew by feel and scent alone now. “Sweetheart, you alright?”

You turned in his arms to face him, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired. You know how it is down here, finally get to sleep and this stupid train hits something.” Curtis laughed at your lie.

“Yeah, somethings you can just never used to huh?” He pulled you over to his cubby, rooting around. You weren’t sure what he was looking for until he pulled back triumphant. “I’m not gonna tell you what I had to do to get this.” He winked before presenting you with a thick scarf. He wrapped it around your neck with surprising tenderness. As you inhaled you caught a strong whiff of Curtis and sighed.

Tears welling in your eyes you said, “Thank you Curtis! You don’t have to do this.”

His smile was genuine as he shushed you and pulled you back into his chest, slowly rocking and running his hands up and down your back.

You were rocked back to the present by the sound of the Quinjet landing, finding yourself still snugly wrapped in Steve’s arms. “You think you can walk?”

You nodded before heading down the ramp to solid ground. “C’mon, let’s go find Tony and Banner - I called ahead to make sure they were ready for us.” He started to lead the way, but stopped short when he noticed you weren’t following him. He turned back to you to give you a quizzical look before holding his hand out towards you. Your eyes shot to his and searched. What you were looking for you weren’t quite sure, but Steve just stared back at you earnestly.

You sighed and took his hand, following him deeper into the Compound. You knew what was going to happen next. Experiments. You had heard of them at SHIELD. Any new recruits who showed signs of enhancement were experimented on before any field assignments. You shuddered as you thought of what Dr. Banner and Tony would come up with. As if sensing your thoughts, Steve let his thumb brush against the back of your hand. “Don’t worry, we’re just going to figure out what is going on, okay?”

You could feel your whole body tense as you got closer to the lab, and saw the rest of the Avengers talking. You stopped short and pulled on Steve’s hand. “Steve, I’m scared.” You couldn’t look him in the eye as you made your declaration, instead settling on his chin.

“I know, but I’m more scared of what could happen to you if we don’t figure out why this is happening.” He lifted his free hand up to your chin and tilted your face up to look at him showing you that his concern was genuine, then pulled you into the lab.

You looked around at the team, but were unable to meet any of their eyes. Natasha was immediately out of her seat to come and pull you into a hug. She whispered to you in a reassuring voice, but your head was buzzing so loudly you couldn't make out a word she said. It was Steve’s voice that pulled you out of your reverie.

“She’s in shock. I gave you guys the short version on the way back, but I figured you should hear it all from both of us.” He stood with his arms crossed across his broad chest, straining the material of his suit. From there you both explained in detail what had happened on the mission. How everything had gone sideways, right from the start.

“How long has this been going on?” Dr. Banner was kind, but you could tell he was intensely interested in what was happening to you. That didn’t bode well for the experimentation.

“I’m not sure.” You weren’t lying, the earliest memory you had of the train was in your teens, but how long had your dreams been you traveling to a far off land. “The first time I remember the train was my early teens. That’s when I met Curtis. He saved me, and so many other people. He made sure that we all got on, even if we didn’t have a ticket. He wasn’t much older than me, maybe seventeen? But he has always taken care of us. Before then? I don’t know, you guys have to remember I thought these were dreams, I didn’t think any of it was really happening.”

Tony wasn’t looking at you, but was frantically working on something on his tablet. Dr. Banner nodded, “We should probably assume you’ve been doing this most, if not all of your life.”

“How do we make it stop?” Steve’s question caught you off guard, and you immediately responded.

“We can’t make it stop yet!” You were furious at him for even suggesting it. However, his expression told you that this was the wrong response. It was like a switch flipped in your head and you finally felt back to yourself. “Captain, we can’t just leave those people, especially now that we know they need help. Curtis is strong, he’s a good leader, but we can help them in their rebellion against the front, just think of how many lives we would be able to save if we help.”

Steve rolled his shoulders and looked away. He didn’t agree. It was Natasha who responded, “I think we all agree that we should help those who need it, but realistically what are we supposed to do to help people in what, another dimension?”

You could hear the murmurs of agreements of the other Avengers. “So none of you will help? You’re going to let innocent people die?”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that echoed around the room. No one would make eye contact with you. You huffed, “Fine. Then we will not be looking into this until the rebellion is done, I’ll bench myself.” Your last comment was made in Steve’s direction.

Tony finally looked up from his tablet and stared directly at you. “This is something you feel like you need to do?” It was posed as a question, but really you could tell he was confirming more than anything.

You stared straight into his eyes as you responded, “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”

Tony nodded, “Alright kids, shows over. We’ll reconvene after ‘The Rebellion’ although you definitely need a better name for that.”

You smiled at Tony and turned to make your way back to your quarters. Deciding on a nice long bath before bed, so you could unwind the mess you had made today. You weren’t even sure how to file the mission report with Steve at this point.

***

Back in the lab the Avengers spoke in your absence.

“We can’t just let her keep doing this. You guys didn’t see her there. Something about that place makes her weak, and not just emotionally. She could barely hold herself up and she wants to help fight in a rebellion?” Steve was pacing as he expounded on all the reasons why your idea was terrible. He was just glad you weren’t here to hear him, he knew you would hate the way he was speaking about you now.

“What do you want to do Cap? Tie her to the lab? There’s no way that’s going to work. She’s a free person, she benched herself, outside of Avenging there’s not much else we can do to stop her.” Tony was surprising everyone, including himself, by being the voice of reason.

Natasha came up with the only solid plan that would appease everyone, except maybe you. “Then maybe we bench someone else to stay with her. That way we know that whether here or there, she’s safe.”

To the shock of all the Avengers in the room Steve volunteered himself, “I’ve already been there. She said that the last time she was there she was being held by Curtis the same as how I caught her, except he didn’t come back with her. I’m wondering if the serum is allowing me to go back and forth with her.”

Natasha looked worried, but the others agreed, so she kept her mouth shut. She definitely wasn’t going to be the one to tell you that it was her idea that had Captain America chained to your side 24/7 now.

***

[ckret2]

how do you think Pyronica would react to Bill's new form?

Although Bill is gonna make contact with the Henchmaniacs over the course of the fic, I haven't fully figured out how soon or in which order, or worked out what all their individual reactions would be like; but broadly speaking, it's something like this:

Since none of the Henchmaniacs are human, from most of their POVs, Bill just turned from one alien into another type of alien. To some of them, he might look more "like them" than he did before; but he looks more like them in the sense that we humans would think a bear looks more like us than a goldfish does. It's not close enough to make them go "you're the same as me now."

But to the shapes, it's like seeing your bro turn into a goldfish. You've gotta roast him mercilessly.

[kaminocasey]

As Luck Would Have It Part 2

Summary: Shit hits the fan as Fisk gives you the task to kill Spider-Man... But you know that's not an option for you.

Pairing: Peter B Parker x Assassin!Reader

WC: 3.3K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; A lot more angst, But also more smut. Guns, Public-ish sex, unprotected p in v, Angry sex, canon what canon?

A/N: No one at all asked for this part 2 but this story has been bringing me joy the last few days so I figured why not lol. *pictures found on pinterest*

Part One | Taglist Form︱Marvel Masterlist

Kill the Spider-Man. 

The harsh words from Fisk echo in your head loudly as you start to go into panic mode. He’s giving you three days. That’s plenty of time for you to come clean to your husband, fake his death, and make him move, right? 

Except one thing. Peter never runs from a fight. He never backs down.

Goddammit… 

When you go home that night, exhausted, you hear Peter relaxing on the couch, watching TV. You know he’s going to look rough from taking on the Goblin and that you have to act surprised, like you don’t know anything. 

Or… 

You can take this time to tell him the truth. If he hates you and leaves you, maybe he’ll leave New York… At least he’ll be safe.

You stand, facing the door for a moment longer, looking out the window at the cars parked on the street.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Peter’s warm voice fills the house and you close your eyes as your chest tightens. “Food just got here a few minutes ago, it’s on the counter ready for you.”

“Hi, baby.” You try your best to not let him hear the hurt or fear in your voice as you take your jacket off and hang it up.

Suddenly, you hear him right behind you in the foyer. “What’s wrong?”

Goddammit he knows you too well. You let out another breath before turning around to face him. He does look rough, but not as bad as usual, so that’s gotta be a good sign. You can’t help but wonder what shape Osborn is in. And judging by how angry he was, he’s probably not in good shape.

“We… we need to talk.” You walk past him into the living room to sit down on the couch.

“That’s never a good thing to start a conversation with.” He teases and then when he sees your serious face, his own face drops as he sits down next to you. “What is it?”

Closing your eyes to take a deep breath, to calm your nerves, you take his hands. “I don’t know how to say it… It’s pretty bad.”

“So just say it.” He shrugs, giving you a nervous smile as he brings your hand to his lips.

It just makes your heart hurt, so you pull it away and stand up, beginning to pace the living room, arguing with yourself in your head for a moment.

Peter’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 

“Babe, you’re starting to freak me out. What the hell happened today?” He stands up, putting his hands on his hips.

“Baby… I’m not…” You look at him and you feel like you’re going to throw up. “I’m… fuck… goddammit… I’m not who you think I am.” 

Peter tilts his head with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

“I…” You clear your throat. “I work for Wilson Fisk… Kingpin.” 

Peter lets out a loud laugh. “Okay. What is it really? Am I putting on too much weight? Do you want me to work out more?”

You let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck Peter. Will you stop?” 

He looks at you fully now, clearly alarmed by the tone you just took with him. You’ve never spoken to him like that in your life.

“I’m a trained assassin for Kingpin.” You speak each word slowly, trying to make him understand how serious this is.

“You work in publishing-”

“A lie I told you.”

“You’re an editor-”

“Another lie. I’ve been lying most of our relationship.” You tell him as your stomach still feels like it’s falling. 

He shakes his head, beginning to pace himself. “What… how? I don’t… I don’t understand…” 

“I’ve done my best to keep you… to keep Spider-Man off his radar… but today… when you went up against Osborn… we were there before… trying to get him to-” You try to explain.

“You were there?” He interupts, still in rather disbelief, clearly.

Nothing you say right now is going to help the fact that you have been lying for your entire relationship.

“Peter, I-” 

He holds up his hand to silence you, so he can think, and then rakes it down his face, falling down to the couch.

“Our whole marriage is a lie…” He looks up at you, but it's almost like he’s looking at a complete stranger. “You- you kill people for a living?”

You can hear the cracks in his heart start to take shape, mimicking your own.

“Yes…” You whisper so your voice doesn’t break, tears brimming. 

He puts his head in his hands, gripping his hair anxiously before looking up at you again. 

“Why are you telling me now?” 

“Because you’re in danger… Pete… I tried so hard to keep him away from you…” You feel the tears running down your cheeks now.

“He wants you to kill me.” He gets it now.

You nod your head. “But I love you and I obviously cannot do that. I need you to leave New York…”

“You don’t think I can handle my own?” He looks at you angrily.

A look he rarely ever gives you.

“He wants me to kill you… and if I don’t… he’ll kill me.” You whisper. “I failed him today when I tried to get Osborn to work with us…”

“Oh…” He murmurs, staring at you.

For once in your life, you truly cannot tell what your husband is thinking. And that scares you more than Fisk does. 

“Peter?” You ask, hoping he’ll let you in even though he has no reason to.

“I’ll be back.” He gets up and starts heading toward the door but you grab his wrist.

“Please don’t do something stupid-” You beg.

“What, you mean like lying for ten years to your spouse and turning out to be an assassin?” He yanks his hand away from you and walks out the door, taking your heart with him. 

You’re aware the world doesn’t just stop spinning, but the moment he walks out that door, it feels like it does. 

Now what?

“Fuck…” You rest your forehead against the doorway to the living room and close your eyes for a minute. 

You can’t let him try to take on Kingpin, obviously. Not alone…

Deciding right there, you grab your jacket and your keys and head back out to your bike. Speeding toward the city, you try to figure out exactly what you’re going to do. It’s not like you can just kill your boss and there won’t be some sort of repercussions. 

It doesn’t matter, though. It’s for Peter. 

By the time you pull up in the back alley of Fisk Tower, it’s dark out and you wait for a moment, just for some sort of sign of Peter. But you don’t see him so you head back up toward Fisk’s office. 

The elevator ride takes way too long as you fidget with the bar behind you, looking out at the city lights. When you hear the ding, indicating the top floor, you hear voices. 

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to show up here?” You hear Fisk’s voice on the other side of the elevator and you just know Peter is in there. 

Your stomach still drops the moment that the elevator doors open. Fisk and Peter both look at you. Peter is in his Spider suit and you crave looking into those brown eyes again.

“About time. Kill him.” Fisk commands you. 

“Not gonna happen, pal.” Peter shoots a web at Fisk right in the face and yanks him down to the floor. “You’ll find I’m very spry. Yoga really helps. You ought to give it a try.” 

Oh, Peter… 

“Why are you just standing there?” Fisk shouts at you and you pull your gun and point it.

Fisk smirks as you see Peter’s masked eyes go wide. But you turn the gun down toward Fisk, pointing it at him instead. 

“I quit.” You mumble. “You can’t quit.” Fisk is starting to break free from the webs and getting back up. “I own you.” 

“Not anymore.” You shake your head. 

Fisk pulls his gun out of his suit and starts to point it at you but a string of webbing pulls it clattering to the floor.

“Don’t think so.” Peter leaps up and kicks Fisk in the face and continues to attack him. “You could say I’m a bit of a feminist. Women are our future. Supposed to love and cherish them, you know?”

“Do you ever shut the hell up?” Fisk grumbles as he tries to go after Peter, who leaps out of the way, and crashes into his liquor shelf. 

“Nope. It’s honestly my worst quality.” Peter punches him and then throws you a wink. “Except for forgetting trash day every other week.” 

He isn’t wrong about that. 

All of a sudden, Fisk comes swinging back and throws a hard punch into Peter’s cheek and you just know that had to hurt. Peter falls down momentarily and tries to get back up but Fisk knocks him back down. 

You watch in horror and raise your gun back up to Fisk. “STOP!” 

“Or what, sweetheart?” Fisk smirks at you as he kicks Peter in the stomach. 

“I said stop!” You scream as you fire at Fisk, hitting him in the right side of the chest. 

He pauses to look down at where you hit him at the same time that Peter looks up at you. Except you can tell its to check to make sure you’re alright. 

“You bitch.” Fisk starts toward you but you dodge him and roll out of the way at the same time that Peter webs his legs and yanks him down. 

“That’s… no way… to talk to a woman.” Peter weakly gets up. 

All of a sudden, there are cops busting into the room and you quickly realize that Peter actually came with a plan. The chaos that ensues for the next 45 minutes is insane. 

You count down the minutes until you can just have a moment alone with Peter, while the officers try to question you about Fisk. Peter tells them you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, though and they accept that no questions asked. 

Finally, after everyone is gone, you run around to the computers to erase any files or evidence that Fisk had on you before the cops come and take everything. 

“What are you doing?” Peter comes around to look and see. 

“Just clearing me out of the system…” You murmur, afraid to look up at him. 

Peter sighs and waits for you to be done before you take the elevator back down to the ground floor. It’s a quiet ride back down and neither of you are sure what to say to the other. You wouldn’t blame Peter one bit if he decided to leave you or divorce you. You just hope that he’ll let you explain your side before making any rash decisions.

When you get down to the back alley, he stands there for a minute staring at you. 

“We have a lot to discuss… at home?” You ask, quietly, hopefully. 

He lifts up his mask slightly, revealing those lips you could get lost in. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you against him, kissing you roughly. Clearly this is all adrenaline talking. You’ve been through this countless times. When he has pent up adrenaline after fighting some bad guy, sometimes, he’ll come home and fuck you senseless. At least then… you knew he was still in love with you.

“Peter-” You try to whisper against his lips.

“Shhh…” He murmurs, cupping your face as he slides his fingers into your hair. “Not yet.”

He backs you up against the brick wall of the building behind you and roams his hands down to your ass, groaning against you. 

“Let me fuck you… please baby…” His voice is gravelly and full of need. “Didn’t get to this morning and I just… fuck… I really need to.” 

You nod into the kiss. “Please, Peter…” 

He moans softly at the way you say his name and grazes his teeth softly over your bottom lip before pulling away to twist you and push you up against the building so your cheek is resting on the cool brick. His hand reaches around to unbutton your jeans, sliding them and your underwear down to your knees. You hear the soft zip of his suit and then feel his length pushing against your ass. 

“You want it?” He whispers hotly in your ear, kicking your feet apart before sliding the tip between your pussy lips, aching for him to push into you. 

You moan softly, nodding. “P-please…” 

“That's the best you can do, baby? Ought to make you get down on your knees and beg for my cock.” He mumbles. “Fuck I’m so mad at you right now.”

“So fuck me until you’re not mad anymore.” You whisper. 

With a soft growl, he pushes roughly into your cunt, making both of you moan loudly into the empty alleyway. He gives you a moment to adjust to his length before drawing out and pushing right back in. Peter buries his face in the crook of your neck, groaning as one of his hands finds your breast and the other smacks against the brick wall, pressing closer against you. 

“Feels so fucking good…” He whispers. “Your pussy was made just for me…”

“O-only yours…” You whisper back, tears in your eyes. 

He kisses your neck before biting softly and sucking, leaving a mark. You’ll let him do whatever he wants to you at this point, if it means forgiving you. 

Peter begins fucking you rougher, starting to lose it. The only sounds filling the alleyway now are the desperate grunts between the two of you and the sound of skin roughly slapping against skin. His grip tightens around your breast, groping you as his other hand flies down to your hip to keep you both right side up. 

Soon he flies over his edge, burying his face in your neck again as he pumps his cum into you at record speed, pushing as much of it into you as possible because he knows the moment he slides out of you, it’s just gonna drip out onto the pavement. He stays like that for a moment, breathing hard against you, kissing your neck and shoulder. 

“I’m… really… really mad at you.” He whispers, taking his mask off, still panting.

“I know, Peter. I know. I’m so sorry.” You still have tears in your eyes. “I’m so sorry. You have to believe me… I’ve been trying so hard to make sure you didn’t get hurt…” 

He slides out of you and you don’t even care about the mess, you pull your pants up and turn to look at him, cupping his face. He won’t look at you.

“Please… Pete… I love you so-” You cry.

“How can I trust you again after this?” He interupts, the heartbreak clear as day on his face.

“I-” You don’t know how to answer that. “I don’t know…”

He has tears in his own eyes. “I don’t think I can trust you ever again.” 

He’s probably not wrong. But it still hurts to hear. Especially coming from the man you’ve loved since you were 18 years old. You were supposed to be able to make it through anything… 

“Peter… Please just hear me out… I’m begging.” Your voice breaks. 

He shakes his head. “How long were you working for him?”

“Peter-”

“How. Long?” He glares at you.

You rub your nose on your sleeve. “Five years.” 

“You’ve been working with an enemy for five years… And you couldn’t be bothered to tell me. God, do you know how stupid I feel right now?” He rubs his hands down his face. 

Everything is starting to feel like it’s crashing down. Oh how you wish you could rewind to 12 hours before and not get out of bed. To have just stayed there in Peter’s grasp a little longer.

He shakes his head, pulling his mask back over and you know he’s about to swing out of here. 

“Peter, no. Please.” You start toward him, but you hear the ‘thwip’ of the web and suddenly he’s gone. 

Everything that you’ve done was for nothing. Absolutely nothing. You let yourself cry for another moment before you suck it up and decide to get over it. If he leaves, he leaves. You start over.

You’re a fucking cold hearted assassin. Get it together. 

The ringtone of your phone breaks you out of your thoughts. Pulling it out of your back pocket, you see Johnny’s name pop up.

You answer it, wondering how much he knows already. “Yeah?”

“Fisk is down.”

“Yeah.”

“Meet at Location 32.”

Location 32. The Bronx warehouse. 

“Got it.” You hang up, sliding your phone back into your pocket and your helmet back on. 

If Peter wants to go, you won’t stop him. You’ll throw yourself into work and won’t look back. That’s the only way you can protect your heart, or to keep this from ever happening to you again. 

When you get to the warehouse, one of the garage doors opens up for you to pull your bike into. You see multiple vehicles and bikes already parked so you throw it into park and turn it off, hitting the killswitch. 

Johnny approaches you as you take your helmet off, resting it on your bike once you get off. You see all of the guys here, along with several people you really don’t know but are no doubt on Fisk’s payroll.

Elliot Perry, one of Fisk’s best lawyers, stands at the head of the crowd. 

“Now that she’s here.” He says, glancing at you, indicating he’s talking about you. “We can get started.” 

Everyone tries to get closer so they can hear him. You cross your arms as he stares at you for a beat too long. Perry’s always given you the creeps, but he’s nothing you can’t handle. 

“As most of you know already, Mr. Fisk was attacked by Spider-Man tonight. He’s currently in a coma and we aren’t sure when he’s going to wake up.” Perry looks at everyone as he talks and then pulls out a paper. “With that being said, we are going to follow Mr. Fisk’s orders as he had drawn up.” He starts reading from the paper. “In the case of my absence or death, y/n l/n will take over for me as the head of Fisk Industries. She is my right hand person and the most capable. Anyone who does not follow this order will be terminated.”

Your blood runs cold at the realization that you’re the one who put him into a coma and yet he’s entrusted his entire company to you to manage. Everyone’s eyes are on you as well as you tune out what the rest of Fisk’s letter says. 

Shit, you think to yourself. 

“What do you think?” Johnny asks you when Perry’s done talking.

You shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around what’s just happened. “I don't know what to think… this is a lot to process.”

“It is. But you don’t really have much of a choice do you?” Johnny smirks. 

“I mean… Kingpin was… power incarnate. He was cunning… ruthless��� charming… That’s not me.” You lean against one of the black vans.

“Oh, no? Really? Have you not met yourself? You’re all of those things and more.” Johnny leans as well. “We all support you. We’ll follow you.”

You look around at everyone watching you with respect, waiting for your next words. Everyone here, waiting for your command. You could be the one to keep all of these people away from Spider-Man. All you have to do is say the word and they won’t lay a hand on him. That’s power. 

“It’s time for a Queenpin, I believe.” Johnny leans over and whispers. 

“So it is.” You murmur.

[paragonrobits]

a while back I made a joke about Sokka acting like rationalism is a valid philosophy in the setting he is from and trying to deny the existence of spirits as an extreme way of coping with their alien ways (and possibly alienation from his people's ways, depending on how much you consider the Southern Water Tribe to have a close cultural connection to vibing with spirits in general that has been lost due to the severe loss of information from so many of their people dying over the Hundred Year War) and the punchline was Koh the Face Stealer apparently now just following him around out of bored curiousity and now I actually want to make that a whole thing

the specific vibe here is that Koh is not an active danger to Sokka in this context. This works on the assumption that Koh does the face stealing thing in specific circumstances, but he won't do it unless you specifically go against the rules governing that: you gotta do it by showing emotion around him (which is bad for Sokka) and during specific situations and contexts which are apparent and he or another knowledgable being is obliged to inform people of this and the consequences (which is good for Sokka).

This further would emphasize the idea that spirits act according to their natures and functions; Koh stealing someone's face is not a moral decision, no more than a cuckoo bird smashing the eggs in another birds nest and laying its own in there is a moral decision. While its clear spirits are sapient, they're also bound by their natures to think and act in certain ways, and I take the idea that Koh is related to the concept of empathy; when he steals faces, he sees things through their perspectives in an extremely literal way.

This, in turn, leads to him being fascinated by specific people. In this case, he is following Sokka around because he intrigues Koh. He is an apparent contradiction in many ways; a man professing to a purely rationalist view of the world despite the power of bending ignoring what he knows of the laws of the natural world, having percieved the existence of the spirits as a form of reality that supercedes those same laws of nature. A brother-in-law to the Avatar (or just real close to him, depending on whether or not marriage is actually a thing Katara and Aang care for), but indifferent to the fact that Aang's existence is indispitable fact that the spirits exist.

A man shaped by fear of those outside his home, and yet a self-made polymath of sorts willing to learn from all nations. A warrior of the Southern Water Tribe, proud of what few traditions remain, and also one studying from his experiences all across the world, making something quite unrelated to those traditions but still defined by them. A man who can conceive of impossible, revolutionary technologies from first principles; completely untutored in the scientific principles behind them due to his people's decline, but able to still figure out the broad strokes from imagination alone, leading a way for geniuses to figure out how to make the idea work.

A benign paradox. A man shaped by fear and knowing every unfamiliar shape on the water could be another night of mourning, but still journeying across the world, befriending others and making connections across the world anyway, in the Earth Kingdom and Kyoshi Island and in the very nature that would have destroyed his own home, and through Aang, extending a hand to the memory of the Air Nomads.

And so Koh finds him fascinating. He wants to understand him, and not purely through the lens of his mind. Koh wants to speak to him, hear him speak, and offer his own statements on his perspective.

And also from Sokka's perspective, a notoriously dangerous spirit so powerful even Avatar Kuruk couldn't kill him is now following him around, and might just steal his face on a whim if he's not careful.

Because, the truth is, with spirits... you never know. They're not human. They might be friendly, or hateful, or kind and bitter and they run on seemingly incomprehensible rules that make absolutely no sense to him and he has no idea what he's supposed to do with this information, and now a giant centipede monster is following him around wherever he goes.

In the shadows; watching, listening.

Judging.

[celestiafaerie]

FFXIV Write Day 1 - Steer

Listen, I know I am late. But I did it! My first ever FFXIV Write entry!

Characters:

Celestia Faerie (WoL) G'raha Tia Word Count: 502

Summary:

Celestia wants to make that bank and spots her favorite person whilst gathering materials.

“Ugh, sometimes I wish I wasn’t so cheap.” Celestia sighed to herself in her car. She was working on crafting a new item to sell on the marketboard. Unfortunately, in order to make that item she needed several different items that she knew she could gather herself.

It felt like she was gathering for ages and she was starting to figure out if it was all really worth the amount of gil she was going to make. The driving around on her recently acquired Regalia on her various side adventures, the searching for the materials, and all the math she needed to work out for the craft was starting to not seem worth anything. In the distance she sees a figure walking. The walking figure started looking somewhat mi’qote shaped and familiar.

“Is that..? What is he doing out here? In the middle of La Noscea?” Celestia was confused beyond belief. Why would he be here just walking about? She sped up a little to catch up and honked the horn, startling the mi’qote.

“WHA!!” The mi’qote jumped in the air as Celestia pulled up next to him. His demeanor changed from scared to relieved and then nervous. He knew she was going to be in the area, but he was hoping he could fly under her radar while he helped out. “HAHA! I got you, Raha!” Celestia couldn’t help but laugh at how spooked the mi’qote looked, fluffed up tail and all. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. What are you doing out here anyway? And why are you walking?” 

“Well, I…. I wanted to help… I knew you were gathering some things.” He paused, rubbing his arms in the cute embarrassed way that Celestia had recognized. “I just wanted to help you out.” He pulls from behind him, a bag of the materials Celestia was gathering. 

“Raha! Oh my.” Her face went from smiling to concerned. Celestia got out of the car and opened the bag of materials rummaging and seeing it was more than enough of what she needed. Tears started forming in her eyes as she dropped the bag and threw herself towards G’raha barrelling him into a hug. G’raha startled at first by the whiplash of emotions he experienced on Celestia’s face and then pure joy knowing he did good, wrapped his arms around her and hugged back.

“Okay, but you didn’t answer my second question, why are you walking?” Celestia pulling back and looking at G’raha’s flushed face.

“Well, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself in case you were near me. I was hoping I would sense you coming towards my direction and I could hide fast enough.” He said raising both arms into a shrug. Celestia backed up a step and put her arms on her hips. 

“Raha, you are so silly.” She turned towards the car and made a beckoning motion towards G’raha, “Get in the car, I gotta head back now and craft this before the numbers drop on the marketboard again.”

Thank you @bananarose for being a placeholder for me to gpose this idea. (I needed someone to stand outside of the car so Banana was my G'raha for a moment lol ) Thank you @jaysdividers for the dividers used here.

[edsheerankinnie]

Ok im gonna piss of a whole fandom w this. but here we go lol

So ive been thinking abt She-ra lately (spop specifically) and ohmy god it fucking sucks. like i get so mad anytime i remember it, like and if anyone asks me abt it im gonna warn them do NOT watch this show FOR UR OWN GOOD. unless u dont mind an entire season of fanservice AND BY FANSERVICE I DONT MEAN NUDITY OR THE ANIME KIND, ILL GIVE YALL THAT, i mean specifically how they made catradora canon w virtually no other buildup than they were raised together and ooh they hate each other ouuh ;)) enemies to lovers oouogh🫦 like if ur gonna make a ship like theirs work its gotta have some sort of proper progression w their relationship right? But no, the ENTIRE time up until MIDWAY INTO THE LAST SEASON theyre constantly at each others throats like. its not even fun at that point, it just looks weirdly abusive and toxic. And hey, while were still here, catradora in execution is Such a bad ship bc like. They were raised together. by the Same Person. not even just under the Horde, theyre literally both raised by Shadow weaver. and before their rivalry and in several flashbacks their relationship moreso implicates sisterhood than anything. like idk i dont wanna get too bold here, but it just feels a little too close to !nc3st to just put them together like that?

Omg and lets talk about Fucking SHADOW WEAVER omg. like throughout the whole show were shown and told abt how much of an abusive parental figure she was to adora and especially catra right? But then at THE LITERAL VERY END, Shadow Weaver SELFLESSLY sacrifices herself to help catra and adora save the world. SHadow Weaver, whose entire essence was her desire for Power, who betrayed her own people to obtain it. Who's only semblance of a redemption was her working with the Princesses, just because she would be in a better position of power. no remorse whatsoever for how she treated the two as kids. Nevermind her fake-out to catra that one time, in fact that scene highlights just how easily she'll manipulate those close to her to get what she wants. and u expect me to just "oh wow shadow weaver is so noble for that! This is so sad! poor catra and adora, they lost their now-good mommy!" (again, *their* mommy, eugh). Like im having a hard time believing they were able to mourn her loss like that at all. We've seen them both have very complicated feelings about Shadow weaver. Ok well to be fair we didnt actually GET to see them mourn. which IS ALSO SOMETHING I HAVE ISSUE WITH

the SPEED AT WHICH THE 5TH SEASON RAN omg i HATED IT I HATE IT SO FUCKING MUCH. SO MUCH HAPPENING IN LIKE !) EPS OMG, and on top of that WE DONT EVEN GET A PROPER CONCLUSION???? U EXPECT ME TO BE SATISFIED W THEM ENDING THE LAST EPISODE 5 MINS AFTER SAVING THE WORLD????? And ohmygod DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HOW THEY SAVED THE WORLD AUGHJLFDRCRJ IT WAS SO BAD Like girl i need SOME kind of CONCLUSION, not just "yay the horde is gone! sunshine and rainbows! bye bye!" GIRL WHAT THE FUCK??! WHAT HAPPENS AFTER??? I WANNA SEE THEM REBUILD ???? I WANT A FLASH FORWARD (AND NO ADORA'S 5 SECOND VISION WHILE SEEKING THE HEART DOESNT COUNT), I WANNA SEE EVERYONE ADJUSTING TO THEIR NEW LIVES. I WANT SOME SWEET SWEET BANTER. I DONT WANT TO READ A FANFIC DEPICTING ALL THAT BC THE CREW GOT LAZY. I WANT A NICE BASE FOR ALL THAT. U GET WHAT I MEAN??!?!?

I think i should mention that i am in no way shape or form homophobic or anything, i am literally the president of the fruitcake club, ok? but the catradora kiss was probably the worst canonization of a relationship in an animated series ever, period. Like really? while Adora's half dead?? and otherwise the whole world ends if u dont?? And with only 5 minutes of runtime left ?????? I am being edged. I am being edged in the worst possible way. I hate it so much. "Dont leave me adora! I LOVE you! I ALWAYS have!!" HUHHH???? U EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT????? "i love u too🥰" HUHHHHH???? GIRL WHEN DID THIS DEVELOPMENT HAPPEN??? U hung out for literally 3 DAYS and u expect me to believe u guys went from enemies to working out their issues to googoo eyes???? when there was HARDLY ANY OF THAT THERE TO BEGIN WITH???? also just the overall trope of "oh no the world is ending, if i kiss this guy it'll be saved" is sososo bad, idc if its a straight or gay couple, it is probably the most annoying trope ever. like gyattdayum i didnt know i was watching an old Disney movie. i thought this was an epic scifi my bad. Yall need a moment? Do u wanna fuck too? Maximize ur "power of love" slay so the world is extra saved? jesus christ. its the "true loves kiss" trope all over again. Like thats such a rude way to treat a ship too. I want to see it in action, i want to see real progression, ESPECIALLY bc its the main ship, not "ooh they might be gay!!11! ooh they might kiss :) oouhh" and then last second theyre like "btw theyre in love now ;)"

Like id *maybe* get it if there were time constraints like with TOH, id get it if they were like "the idea and concept were there, mr CEO wanted us to shut down the party." but from my research, they didnt really have any constraints like that. And im saying *maybe* bc like with TOH for instance, even though they were forced to cut the show in half, they still delivered everything to progress and end the show properly! They had an *afterword*! they had Lumity and Huntlow and Raeda!! And oh my god the progression of Lumity is so sweet and beautiful! we get to see their "enemy" phase, we get to see them fall for each other, we get to see them date, we get their First Kiss!! We get to see how much they care for each other!! And sure, on the flipside we dont really get to see Huntlow. But thats bc the show got cut before it could *really* take off. There was supposed to be a whole season of Willow and Hunter's hijinks while the gang was in Connecticut. There was supposed to be a whole season of the gang adjusting to Connecticut! We were supposed to see the Archivists involvement and the ultimate showdown in the 4th season!! But they had to be economical bc of the cut, right? So they made a montage of Connecticut, they made three separate, HOUR LONG episodes depicting what couldve happened in the 3rd and 4th seasons. we get to see Willow reciprocate Hunters feelings in the 2nd ep! And most importantly, we get a real conclusion!! we get to see everyone rebuild, we get to see how theyve adjusted, how their lives and relationships have changed. We get a satisfying moment for it all to sink in. we get to properly say our farewells to the characters. All loose ends are properly tied! The Owl House may not be in my top list of cartoons, but u have to admit, it has a very good and satisfying conclusion. And all that with such intense time constraints too.

Now dont get me wrong, She-ra and its characters is written incredibly well (mostly) and its LGBT/POC rep is a game-changer. Heck, i loved Scorfuma, and that was only crumbs of a side ship. And the character designs/animation/colors are absolutely gorgeous, like that is honestly what probably pulled me to watch this show. Im just disappointed in what couldve been, yk? It had so much potential. especially in its last season, it just feels like the writers had too much setup and didnt know how to resolve it. 2/10 would not recommend.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Skittery doesn’t look for fights, but they tend to find him anyway.

Jack had never been the best at sleeping through the night. Too many nightmares he would never admit to, an uncomfortable bed and the constant pit in the bottom of his stomach meant that he was well aquatinted with the moon and all her shapes.

It wasn’t often he was waiting for one of the boys to come back when he stayed up, but it wasn’t rare either. What was weird was that it was Skittery, usually among the first of all of them to collapse into his bed despite the mild insomnia that most nights had him joining Jack on the fire escape for a smoke once it hit the early hours of the morning.

The door to the lodging house bunk room always creaked as it opened, tonight wasn’t any different as the sound was followed by shuffled footsteps.

Jack narrowed his eyes through the dark, and rolled over to stare at the familiar figure limping through the room.

“Skittery?”

The figure stopped short.

.

.

.

“Shit.”

“Why you limpin’?” For how awake he’d been his voice still sounded gravelly from sleep.

“I ain’t, I’m fine.”

“Right an’ Race has never lost a bet.” He swung his legs over the side of his bunk. “The hell did you do to yourself?”

Skittery sighed, and ran a hand through his hair and Jack couldn’t tell if he was looking at him or not. “Should be askin’ what the Delancey’s did to me.”

“Skittery.”

He scoffed. “Oh, come on Cowboy, you can’t talk. You don’t get away from em’ every mornin’”

“What’d you say to em’?”

“Who says I said anythin’?”

Jack hoped the face he was pulling could be seen through the dark. “The smart mouth a’ yours that always gets you hit.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough. That’s what my pa blamed it on.”

“Jesus Skittery.” He rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand down his face. “Go to the washroom.”

“I’m fine Kelly-“

“You’re a moron is what you is. I ain’t lettin’ you get blood on the sheets.”

“Jack Kelly playin’ the hero. Everyone’s shocked.” Skittrry muttered voice deadpan, but he turned around and headed to the lowly lit wash room anyway.

Jack frowned. “I ain’t playin’ hero.”

“Oh, you ain’t?” His voice was licked with sarcasm, the Skittery kind that was a little biting at the edges, even if he didn’t mean it to be. “Then what’re you doin’ huh?”

“Bein’ your friend? I dunno. you don’t gotta be pissy with me cause you picked a fight you never had a shot at winning in the first place.”

Skittery rolled his eyes. “I can usually outrun them.” He mumbled.

“Yeah looks like it worked out real well for you tonight.”

The constant low light that illuminated the washroom was the only one that stayed all night, and it made the forming bruises on Skittery’s face look worse than they actually were Jack presumed, all deep almost black purples and blues. Though the likelihood they would actually be that bad in the morning was high.

“Jesus Skitts.” Despite Skittery’s half hearted attempt to bat him off Jack managed to get a hand under his chin to turn his face to the side, just to get a look at the bleeding scrape right below his eye. He sucked in a breath between his teeth at the beads of blood. “They got you good.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Jack dropped his jaw. “You’re being a dick y’know.”

He snorted. “When am I not?”

Jack rolled his eyes again, an action that happened regularly, and deservedly so, around Skittery. Warranted more often than not.

“What did you say to em? Actually.”

Skittery shrugged and then winced at the movement. “Nothing. I weren’t lookin’ to get my head kicked in on the way home but they was lookin’ for a fight an’ I was the lucky sucker they found.”

Jack sighed, and wrung out the wash cloth he found, one that at least looked relatively clean, into the sink next to him. “Course you were”

“I ain’t any happier than you about it.”

“You like getting into fights with the Delanceys.”

“I like pissing off the Delanceys there’s a differences. ‘Sides, what’s the word Dave called you the other day. A hippo- somethin’?” He frowned. “Anyway, he’s right.”

“How can you say he’s right when you don’ even know what the word is?”

“Cause’ Dave’s usually right when he insults you. About the only damn thing he’s right about.”

Jack was not going to get into this again. Not tonight. “You never usually talk this much when we do this.”

Skittery tried to shrug again, and winced again.

“Morris got me in the back of the head real bad. I’m tryna stop myself from passin’ out.”

Jack froze.

“What?”

One glance over Skittery’s shoulder was enough to notice the dribble of blood down the back of his neck, sticking to his hair and matting it over what must’ve been the scabbing cut as it dripped steadily onto his pink shirt. “Shit.”

“That bad?”

“Shit.”

[sweetescapeartist]

A DBS MANGA CHAPTER 102 REVIEW. KINDA...

Some stuff about chapter 102 of the DBS manga I don't really like/I want to quickly discuss. Meant to post this last month but didn't. I'm behind on a lot of things.

All those folks saying True UI is Goku's strongest form... The upcoming chapter says otherwise. Goku uses the silver haired UI form & Beerus apparently views that as Goku at his strongest. Heck, Goku calls it his best move. Good job Toyo for creating True UI (black hair) and confusing fans to believe that was stronger than Mastered UI (silver hair) when in reality True UI is simply UI Sign (black hair) that changed how UI works so it matches more closer to how the anime depicted the technique. UI Omen in the anime allowed Goku to use his emotions, but the more control he has over them, the stronger he becomes until he transforms into Mastered UI. UI Sign in the manga was depicted as Goku needing to be emotionless & stated that emotions hinder the power. This was from the ToP Saga all the way until Toyotaro "created" True UI to function off of controlled emotions like how the DBS anime always has & gave it Omen the name "True Ultra Instinct." [Link to a long post that I paraphrased, so you ain't gotta read it unless you're really interested.]

I get tired of the same expressions in this Super Hero Saga. Its a pouty or surprised face accompanied with an oval shaped mouth. Toyotaro is overusing the hell out of that. Here's a compilation & I left out like 4 other panels with this same expression. (There's more in CH 103)

I saw ppl talking about the poses when Goku & Gohan fight look cool.... Looks pretty stiff imo. At least from what I've seen. Lacks a feel of movement. And you don't even see most of the fight. It doesn't make it cool imo. We've seen MUI in action against powerful opponents. If MUI Goku & Beast Gohan are close to equal strength, why not show actual combat between the two other than the aftermath of clashes? There was more attention to choreography with Gohan vs Trunks & Goten than there is with Gohan vs Goku. (Chapter 103 does better with the combat for Goku vs Gohan)

Toyotaro doing the "this form is called such & such" is weird for me. Seems like he's trying to hype up Western fans or something. Like when Goten & Trunks name Gohan's potential unleashed form "Ultimate." Its just dialogue for the sake of some sort of fanservice. Some ppl will like it, others wont. I just wasn't a fan of it. Feels like its placed here just for fanservice. If they called it ultimate & didn't draw too much attention to it, I would've prefered that. Its naming it but not stopping the narrative flow.

Also wasn't a fan of Goku asking Gohan is his new power was SSJ2 or SSJ3. Goku knows dang well Gohan's Potential Unleashed form is far stronger than SSJ2 & was stronger than SSJ3. He should've just asked "So, what's this form of yours?" and leave it there.

Some Vegeta fans are calling him a proud uncle when he smiles at Gohan & Goku about to spar. No, he is a Saiyan who is ready to see a good fight just as Broly smiled when he watched Goku & Vegeta fight. Is there some pride there? Yes. But Vegeta ain't no uncle figure to Gohan. That's Piccolo & Krillin.

Why are Carmine & Soldier 15 there on Beerus' planet? Goku could have just had his sons & Trunks put a hand on his shoulder then teleported. And why would Gohan see Carmine & 15 who shot at his home & at him, turn Beast out of anger, then hop into the same vehicle as them as if he forgot what happened in the last chapter? It was literally a few seconds ago.

This was just for them to record Goten & Trunks in their costumes (can they even keep up with how fast they are moving?) And it just seems like a plot device that won't matter at all. Anyone remember 7-3 in the Granolah Saga?was there for a moment & served no purpose other than a reference. I bet this with Carmine is for a simple joke to be quickly thrown aside.