#if i ever make that comic that's been floating around as an idea in my head im adding this headcanon in

[outofthedeck]

Headcanon: stats are canon to the TES world

I mean. There's actually potions and spells that boost shit like your Personality and Armourer. It could just be a gameplay thing, but like. They're so ubiquitous in Oblivion and Morrowind (less so in Skyrim, which doesn't have attributes. I'm ignoring that game for this) that I feel like it wouldn't make sense for it to just be a gameplay thing, and on top of TES's already whacky lore?

Yeah. It makes perfect sense for Attributes and Skills to just be things in Tamriel. There's probably magical tests to figure out what numbers exactly you have, but it's a well known thing that having more Willpower lets you regenerate Magicka more quickly, and that having low Personality and Speechcraft will make people more likely to hate you in sight.

Optimal skill leveling is treated like an exercise regime - there's people whose job it is to coach you as to what skills to use to most optimally level up your Endurance and shit when you level. People who are dedicated to optimal leveling are like bodybuilders. There's contests to see how high you can get all your stats by leveling, and using potions and magic to raise your stats is considered cheating.

Being born with unusually low Luck is treated like a disability, and people with low Luck are often turned down from jobs because "we don't need your Luck souring our business." Having low Luck only affects the person with the low Luck, but bigots will be bigots

Intelligence the Attribute has no relation to intelligence as in smarts. It's a myth that they do have a relation - but there's plenty of dumb mages (Ancano. That guy who makes the scrolls of Icarian Flight) out there that can disprove it.

The only thing aging does is lower your Attributes. Looking old is entirely cosmetic. The reason expert mages tend to live extremely long is because they just spam spells and enchantments to counteract the Attribute loss. It's a super well known anti-aging cheese, but quite a lot of people think that it damages your soul, or that it's only possible to see if you've made a deal with a deadra, so high-level mages only do it for themselves.

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (1/3)

rise of the tmnt word count: 2k pairing: leo & oc i've had this idea rattling around since the rise farewell comic earlier this year made it canon that the turtles had another brother and a sister floating around somewhere. we know who their sister is, so this is my take on that 5th brother. i hope you enjoy meeting him <3 big thank you to @soldrawss and @mykimouser for enabling my insane behavior (and thank you again to sol for drawing the art i included in this chapter!!!) title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo regretted his last words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Hero moves are totally your style”? As if Raph doesn’t have enough issues already.

But what he meant—what he would have tried to explain if there was time—was that Raph is his hero. He’s always been Leo’s hero. And if Leo could be anything like him, even for a second, even if it was the last thing he ever did, then he could be satisfied with that. 

It’s a silly thing to be stuck thinking about, laying on a torn up chunk of earth with a monster ominously lumbering somewhere below, looking for where it threw its toy. Laying there, feeling every bruise and broken bone, and hoping that he didn’t hurt his big brother’s feelings.

They’ll be okay, Leo thinks, trying to make it be the thing that gives him courage instead of just more homesickness. They’ll miss me, maybe for a long time, but they’ll be okay.

Leo’s supposed to be fighting for his life, but it’s all he can do to keep a grip on the photo in his hand, the only thing in this entire dimension worth holding onto. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes open when every blink is longer than the last. 

It feels like enough of a rebellion. The Krang looked annoyed that he was still breathing the last time it batted him through the void like a fly, which gives Leo the idea that he should probably be dead by now. He feels a detached sort of pride at how grown-up he’s being about all this. Better late than never

Leo waits for the Krang to come for him, dripping his blood and sneering his daddy’s nickname for him hatefully as it does, and hopes he made his family proud. 

Leo hopes he’ll go wherever Gram-gram is. It would be nice to know someone when he gets there. 

Movement in his periphery snags Leo’s attention. His brain starts throwing up warning flags, signaling danger—anything moving around in here is another parasite, or a Krang hound, nothing he’ll want to be sprawled out on a silver platter for—but he can’t summon any urgency. 

He turns his head and finds himself looking up at another turtle. 

It’s the very last thing he expected to see. They both just stare at each other for a moment. 

The newcomer appears to be a few years older than Leo, based on the broadness of their shoulders, and half a head taller. Their skin is more gray than green and their plastron is so pale it’s closer to white than yellow. Their carapace, what Leo can see of it, is a deep blue-black and they’re covered, skin and shell both, in white spots. Two of the spots on their face give the impression of eyebrows lowered in a glare, but they don’t seem angry at him.

The turtle is completely unfamiliar to Leo, which is saying something. He thought he and his family had the monopoly on… this whole situation. 

Disquieted, Leo remembers that he’s supposed to be the only turtle here. That was a very significant part of the decision he’d made. 

It must be a hallucination, he decides, instantly comforted by his own reasoning. That makes sense. He just wished that if his mind was going to conjure him some dying company it could at least be someone he knows. An imaginary Mikey or Donnie or Raphie for one last hug. One last affectionate forehead bonk. An “I still love you,” if that wasn’t asking too much. 

Don’t you cry now, he scolds himself sternly when his eyes start to blur and burn. It’s not about you. 

With a resounding crash of metal against stone, the Krang finds them at last. He’s snarling something that Leo is too slow to piece together before he cuts himself off—surprising the hell out of Leonardo by acknowledging the hallucination. That’s not how that works. 

“Another pest ,” the Krang hisses. His serrated teeth glint when he draws his gummy lips back in an ugly smile. His tone is oily and unpleasant when he adds, “You’re less colorful than those other ones. I would have remembered seeing you. Where were you when your accomplices were fumbling about in my Technodrome like the stupid creatures they are?”

“We won,” Leo reminds the alien, even though it makes him cough. His lips are warm and wet now but he won’t think about why. “Blew up your ugly ship. Who looks stupid now?” 

“Shut your mouth!” the Krang roars, going from slimy to homicidal in about three seconds. Leo cringes, every ounce of animal instinct in his body urging him to hide in his shell and ride the rest of this nightmare out. 

The spotted turtle snaps, “Don’t talk to him.” 

It would have made sense if he was looking at Leo when he said it. Don’t engage, don’t bait the big monster that could kill you with as much effort as it takes you to blink, et cetera ad nauseum. If only he’d had a nickel for every time he heard that. 

But instead the turtle is looking at the Krang, and he’s radiating the kind of cold-blooded murder that you mostly only see in movies. He has one arm flung out in front of Leo like he actually means to use it to stop the Krang from getting any closer. 

“Don’t even look at him,” he goes on, sounding seconds away from baring his teeth. 

This guy is significantly unaware of the danger he’s facing, and Leo ought to warn him about what enormous clusterfuck he’d just wandered into. Leo ought to say he appreciates the reptile solidarity, but you should definitely run, new guy. 

But this probably isn’t actually happening outside of his own head. And besides, Leo has to focus really hard on his numb fingers so he doesn’t drop his photo. 

“I’ll look where I please,” the Krang says, as unbothered by the hallucination as he was by Leo’s entire family. “Starting with that fool head of yours. I’m interested in whatever backdoor led you here. If it’s my way out, well —”

Adrenaline surges through Leo, and he’s hardly aware of moving before he’s lurching up and shouting out, “No!” 

He can’t get out, he can’t. Leonardo won’t be able to trick him again. He won’t be there to help this time. 

“I do have one thing for you,” the spotted turtle interrupts to say, reaching over his shoulder for what turns out to be a compound crossbow strapped to his back. 

Leo doesn’t know a lot about archery so it’s weird his fictional turtle does, crank-cocking the weapon like it’s an extension of his arm. He watches cluelessly as the turtle slides something very purple out of his jacket pocket and notches it into the groove where the bolts are supposed to go. It’s definitely not a bolt, but it’s a piercing-type projectile of some kind, and it fits in the crossbow like it was designed with crossbows in mind. 

The turtle aims the bow at the Krang, who clicks the claws of his metal suit on the ground the way Splinter would drum his fingers on the kitchen counter when he was waiting on the microwave. The Krang looks condescending and mildly curious, like he’s watching dumb little animals do something they’re not trained to do. 

“He told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to see this part,” the spotted turtle says, and then shoots without a second of hesitation or unnecessary dramatics. 

The Krang bats the projectile away, or tries to, but it explodes on contact with his armor, and suddenly all Leo can smell is burning metal. Then burning meat. 

The Krang begins to scream, clawing at something defiantly purple with a mind of its own that eats straight through him the effortless, immediate way corrosive acid chews through soft tissue. It moves like nanotech, covering as much of the Krang as possible in a manner of seconds and clearly designed to consume whatever it touches like a school of cartoon piranhas. 

Donnie would love it, color scheme and all. 

The Krang stumbles drunkenly, howling like a creature possessed, and Leo and his turtle companion both watch silently until he tips over the edge of the hunk of torn earth they’re on. Gravity is nonexistent in this dimension, so he doesn’t so much fall as sort of drift in another direction while he’s distracted with the purple stuff that’s doing its best to eat him alive. 

The last handful of minutes have been so bizarre that it’s actually going pretty far in convincing Leo that none of it happened for real. The Krang hasn’t actually found him yet. This is clearly a dream. Or a pre-death electrical storm as the neurons in his brain fire up to fizzle out.  

He tips his head to the side again to stare up at the archer, who is putting his bow away with perfect confidence that whatever that purple thing was, it will do the job. 

“Who are you?” Leo asks stupidly. 

“Gio,” the probably imaginary turtle replies.

Leo’s mouth runs off before he can stop it. “Just Gio? Like Cher?”

God, he thinks. That was stupid, Leo. Not the time or place, Leo. You’re in the prison dimension. You’re dying here and you can’t even cut the jokes now? Raph was so right about you.

But the imaginary turtle surprises him by smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling just barely upwards in a way that somehow completely transforms him. Not the time or place for jokes or smiling at them but here they are. Like company.

“Giorgio Hamato,” ‘Gio’ says. That lands in Leo’s ears as something remarkably worth making a lot of noise over, but he can’t begin to unpack it. And after a second, he forgets what the remarkable part was. His mind is a deck of cards that got shuffled too enthusiastically and ended up scattered all over the floor. Gio doesn’t seem to mind when Leo just blinks at him, adding, “I’m here to take you home.”  

“Pretty sure Uber doesn’t come out this far,” Leo mumbles, the words a paint smear, all thick and wet and muddy. One of his teeth feels broken and it’s keeping him awake, a blistering ache that cracks through the back of his mouth like lightning. “And I’ve got, like, zero bars.”

This is how I cope, he thinks, watching the bigger turtle absorb the second bad joke in as many minutes. Leo’s blinking fast so he doesn’t cry. He’s trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating through his whole body, and the swallowing darkness all around him, and the ruins of ancient metal ships looming where they float unrestricted by gravity, and the ballistic howls of a pissed-off pink alien still dealing with whatever the heck this Gio guy did to him.

He can’t focus on any of that because all of that is scary and he’s already terrified. He needs to not be terrified because he doesn’t want to be that kind of ghost when he haunts his family. He wants to be the friendly, funny kind, the kind that gets to stay at the end of the movie, the kind that will make silly faces at Mikey so he doesn’t get scared, and leave sticky notes for Donnie to remember to charge his phone and drink enough water, and cover Raphie with an extra blanket while he’s asleep because it gets cold at night but he always leaves his bedroom door open for them.

If Leo’s friendly and funny, if he helps, he’ll get to stay. He didn’t get to stay the first time, so this time he has to make it stick.

Larger hands wrap around his. It doesn’t register for a second, and then it does in a big way.

Leo jerks his head up. Moving just that much hurts like his ribs are broken all the way down and the bones in his leg have all melted into liquid agony, but it clears some of the fog away.

Someone is holding his hands in the prison dimension.

An alien like the Krang wouldn’t know the first thing about the human gesture, the togetherness of it, so it’s not some mean trick that’s being played. And it can’t be an imaginary turtle that Leo dreamed up, after all, because kindness would be the last thing he’d give himself.

Possibly very real Gio says, “Fuck Uber. Whatever that is. And don’t repeat that word.”

The punchy breath Leo chokes in is going to punch out again as a laugh or a sob. Leo squeezes the bigger turtle’s hands, photo crinkling between them, suddenly tethered to something in this void and hysterically certain that he’ll die for real if Gio lets go.

“I’m sixteen.” Leo’s voice wobbles. He doesn’t know what to react to first. He doesn’t understand how this is happening. He holds on. “I can say the fuck word if I want to, I’m practically an adult.”

Gio’s face does something it hurts to look at. His eyes are dark and sincere, the shape of them entirely familiar. There’s a warmth inside him that permeates the gloom. A star belonging to a much larger galaxy, but more significantly, belonging to the same crooked constellation Leo belongs to.

I know you, he thinks, surprised by the truth of it. I do. Where have you been?

“We’re going home,” Gio says, the certainty in his voice like one of those huge stones a river parts around, unmoved by the currents and crashing water. “I know the way out. Don’t worry about it. Close your eyes.”   

The worst thing that could happen has already happened, Leo thinks. There’s no reason not to trust him. There’s nothing left to lose. He closes his eyes.

He feels himself drawn in, tucked against the built-in armor of a turtle chest, head resting on a broad shoulder. He’s been carried like this a million times before. He didn’t think it would happen again. Somewhere along the line, he’d been picked up for the last time and put down for the last time, and now he’s here, where no one who loves him can reach him, to scoop him up when he falls asleep on the sofa and take him to bed.

But Gio lifts him up like he’s still a kid. The Krang is bellowing hateful promises in between the grating shrieks of pain, promises of what he’ll do when he gets his hands on Leo, but all of that is far away. 

Leo isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t going to be a ghost.

He’s pretty sure he’s going home.   

[sarahscribbles]

fluff is everything, therefore:

I've been entertaining this idea for a very long time. Loki is a heavily touch deprived boy who needs all the affection in the world.

Now I desperately need a small drabble, doesn't even have to be long, of reader just...taking care of him. Calling him "angel" and watching him lose his MIND because no one's ever called him that before?? Reader making him food and looking after him when he's sick and just.....a small drabble. A cute little thing of just....Loki being loved

Because we all know the man needs it.

Anyway, mwah, hope this helps the writing juices flow :)

I hope this is what you had in mind, my darling! I know it's not the best!

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐨��𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚 ���𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The dull clink of ceramic on wood makes you wince and freeze almost comically in place by the side of the bed. Barely daring to breathe, your worried eyes snap towards the god currently buried between tousled viridian bedsheets.

He doesn’t stir. 

You release a slow, quiet breath, relieved that Loki is still sleeping so soundly, despite his earlier protestations that he was completely fine. He’s far from fine, that you’re certain of. You’ve watched how the summer cold he’s come down with has chipped away at him over the past few days, zapping his energy quicker and more thoroughly than he’ll ever admit. He refuses to let that mask of invincibility slip for even a second.

“Gods don’t get sick, darling,” he had said, though you could see the sluggishness that had crept into his usual elegant movements, along with the deep weariness that had settled in his eyes.

One hour later you found him sleeping like the dead. 

He looks so utterly at peace that your heart swells with love for him, and with the familiar realisation that he’s yours. This beautiful man who has survived tortures your mind can’t even conceive of is yours. It’s something that almost has you weep. Out of all the people on this planet - of all the beings in the entire cosmos - it’s you that gets to love him, and you’ll never take that for granted.

It’s impossible to tear your eyes off him as he sleeps. Still a villain to most of the world, yet he’s curled on his side in your bed with tousled hair and pink stained cheeks. You can see the bedsheets shifting with the steady rise and fall of his chest, as well as the way his arm is stretched out towards your side of the bed, as though, even lost to his dreams, his body still searches for yours. 

The man is your entire heart and more, and it’s moments like these you wish you could bottle. 

Your hand floats to his face before you can help yourself. It’s warmer than usual and still smooth beneath your gentle touch that pushes a stray curl back behind his ear. You swear you hear his breathing shift, almost like he knows you’re there. 

You never tire of this - watching him sleep. To have him sleep so soundly in your presence, to have him know with such unwavering certainty that you wouldn’t dream of hurting him, feels like a blessing from the gods.

He trusts you - completely and wholeheartedly - and it’s one of the greatest gifts he could ever give you. 

His hair is silken beneath your touch and errant strands wrap loosely around your fingers as you bend down to kiss his temple. It’s barely more than a butterfly kiss, but you can’t help but let your lips linger briefly against his skin. You only wish it was enough to free him from the clutches of his cold. 

The backs of your fingers brush softly over his cheek and you make to leave and let him rest, but you’ve barely pulled away when he grabs your wrist in a loose grip. 

“Stay,” Loki says, his voice groggy and congested. “Please.” 

His eyes are flickering open, but it’s clear that he’s still wading through sleep. He looks so vulnerable and exhausted and sick that suddenly any plans you had for the rest of the day are unimportant. You can’t deny this man anything. 

Easily, you climb into the bed beside him, resting your back against the headboard and opening your arms to him. “Come here, my love,” you tell him gently. 

He wastes no time in shifting beneath the sheets until his legs are tangled with yours and his head is resting heavily on your stomach. He grips you like he’s been starved of your touch, like you’re the one thing tying him to Earth. You can feel the unspoken plea in the way he’s holding you, the “please don’t leave me” that’s burning into your skin. 

You hope he knows that wild horses couldn’t drag you away from him. 

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you stretch down to kiss the top of his head and intertwine your fingers with his. His hand locks around yours greedily, as though he can’t get enough of your touch. 

It’s fine with you, though, because you can never get enough of him. 

You begin to stroke his hair, so softly that you’re barely even touching him, but you can still hear his soft sigh of contentment. “Feeling better?” you ask softly, running your thumb along his knuckles. 

“No,” he croaks, attempting to twist himself tighter around you. “I fear this may be something worse than one of your silly Midgardian maladies.” 

You can’t help but smile. Your drama queen of a god is still in there.  “Hmm, I think you might be right. I should probably let Tony know I’ll be out for the next few days to take care of you. I can’t risk my beautiful boy succumbing to a dangerous alien bug.” 

Loki doesn’t move, but you can almost feel the smile that mirrors your own growing across his face. “You can’t,” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled by how far he’s nuzzled into your stomach. 

He lapses into silence and you take the opportunity to pull him closer. He’s solid in your arms - solid and alive and everything you never knew you were looking for. He’s your sun and your moon and all your stars, and you can’t imagine your life without him. 

Wordlessly, you stretch to place another kiss to his head, not missing how he hums at your touch. “I adore you, you beautiful man. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

He pulls your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles in reply. It’s so soft and so innocent that you’re struck again by how you would burn down worlds for him. 

Not five minutes later, his breathing turns even and heavy. He’s fast asleep, head still resting on your stomach and hand still gripping yours.

[babyjakes]

sweet surprise. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | ransom has a surprise encounter with your little niece.

pairing | soft!ransom drysdale x auntie!reader (+ reader's baby!niece)

warnings | SOFT RANSOM IS BACK. just soooo fluffy, like unbearable amounts of fluff hehe. written from reader's pov, but most of it is just ran & da baby <3

word count | 689

requested by @brandycranby | hiiiiii eun ✨💕 for blurb night, maybe we could see a fluff or hurt/comfort + unexpectedly soft!ransom + baby? like a teeny tiny chubby wubby baby 🥺

an | aaaahhhhh i'm so glad you sent in this request brandy bby, i've been DYING to write soft!ran lately and this is just the sweetest idea ever ever, hope you enjoy sweet friend and thank you for the amazing idea!!

You don't hear Ransom as he returns home from work, tossing his bag beside the door with a quiet grumble. As always, he's not in the best mood after spending nearly six hours at his grandfather's, helping the old writer with the logistics of his business. He can't wait to spend time with you, the sunshine that always brightens his day and erases any worries that might be floating around in his mind. He doesn't see you as he looks around the living room, but what he does see catches him off guard. On the floor, across the room, sits a strange-looking contraption— some sort of swing. He lets out a gasp as he sees what's sitting inside: a tiny baby whose big, bright eyes are looking over at him with a darling sense of curiosity.

"Oh my," Ransom hums to himself. He stands frozen for a few moments, looking around the room again. You're nowhere to be found. "Now what are you doing here all alone?" he hums softly, finally building up the courage to start making his way over to the swing.

He stops several feet away, just observing the tiny being. Judging by the sweet pink lettering on her jumper that spells out Mama's Girl, he's able to easily guess the infant's gender. "My goodness," the large man whispers, his face softening as the sweet little girl smiles at the sound of his voice, "you're so tiny. What're you doing here, hmm? Was y/n looking after you this afternoon?"

He sits down cross-legged on the floor, scooting himself up a bit more as the baby sways gently in the swing, clapping her tiny hands together clumsily to show the stranger that she's happy to see him. Ransom bites back a smile, reaching out a hand to brush back the little one's thin tufts of hair. "Hi there, pretty girl," he murmurs, "Are you clappin' for me? That's so nice of you, sweetheart. What a smart girl you are."

The infant claps a few more times, giggling softly as a defeated smile finally crosses the brown-haired man's face. "You're too sweet," he admits, stroking the baby's chubby little cheek. "I wonder where y/n is, hmm? Have you seen her?" he asks comically, his grin widening as the baby just continues to wiggle and smile in the swing. "You wanna come out, sweetheart? C'mere, let me hold you."

His hands are steady and careful as he gently unbuckles her from the swing, being sure to support her neck and head as he lifts her up and brings her to his chest. "Oh my," his voice flutters as she tucks her tiny head against his shoulder, snuggling right up to him. "There you go, angel. I got you," he whispers, stroking her hair as he bounces her gently in his arms.

"Welcome home," you giggle as you enter the doorway to the kitchen, your heart swelling at the sight of the giant man holding the tiny baby so carefully, as if she's the most precious thing in the world.

"Look, there's y/n!" Ransom coos excitedly to the little one, causing her to look over at you and offer you a huge, toothless smile. "I bet she missed you!"

"Looks like you're Uncle Ran, huh?" you joke as you join the two on the floor, rubbing the tiny girl's back as Ransom sways and cradles her. "Never knew you liked babies."

"Me neither," the man chuckles, looking down at your niece with the gentlest smile. "But I think this little one might've changed my mind. Look at how tiny she is. So tiny and precious, aren't you?" he fusses her again, earning a chorus of giggles from the baby as he messes her hair carefully. "How long is she staying?" Ransom asks, looking back up at you. "Can we see her again soon? I'll take off work, Harlen won't mind— we should bring her over to see him! He loves kids."

"Hey, hey, slow down," you laugh, leaning over to kiss the sweet man's forehead as you remind him, "I haven't even told you her name yet."

[taffycandyqt]

I was rewatching 2003 TMNT and I was suddenly reminded about Mikey's Turtle Titan persona. Imagine him having a back and forth thing with a femme fatale thief!Reader. They see their little thing like batman and catwoman but everyone else sees it as what it really is; two comic dorks doing a flirty larp.

OH BOY THIS IS GOING TO BE SO FUN TO WRITE! (She said before realizing she has to write flirting and has no idea how to do that) Still, anon, you're a genius. This is beautiful.

Masterlist

Request Rules

Villain to my Hero

While Michelangelo prefers to stick normal turtle ninja self Turtle Titan still makes an appearance whenever boredom hits. What he didn't expect to encounter was a beautiful seductress of a thief while on one of these expeditions. His brothers regret seeing you two interact.

2003 Mikey x fem reader

Oneshot

Fluff, crack

After his excursion with Silver Century Mikey decided to retire his Turtle Titian persona.

...mostly.

Look sometimes his brothers are BOOOOOORING okay?

Today was one of those day. So Mikey decided to suit up and hit the town. Might as well make the most of his alone time right? Protecting the citizens and all. Passing a small convince store is when he noticed her. A black sleeveless hoodie, hood up to obscure the face, black fingerless gloves, black jeans, and black sneakers. Duffle bag in hand speed walking away from the establishment.

That... was suspicious. And as the city's protector it was his job to investigate. He followed her on rooftops to avoid detection while she scurried along the side walk trying to get to her next location.

She swiveled into an alleyway, form still hunched over the bag. Mikey decided this was the time to engage. Leaping downward he corners her in the alley.

"HAULT THEIF! THE TURTLE TITAN IS HERE TO SAVE THE CITY!" He shouts.

She flinches. Quickly switching from spooked to confident she turns around to face him. Rolling her shoulders back and switching to holding the bag with one arm.

"Hault? What is this 18th century Europe?" She teases with a smirk.

"HA! You'll be happy it's not when your behind bars!"

"Mmhm. You sure you're allowed to do that?"

"What? Yes! I'm a super hero!"

"You don't look like any hero I've ever seen."

"That's because I work in the shadows," he tells you using his hands to frame his eyes while emphasizing 'shadows' with a deep gravely voice.

She hmms before walking up to him and carefully inspecting this 'hero'.

Mikey takes a step back.

"I will not fall victim to any of your tricks!" Mikey blushed

"No tricks," she told him, "just... THIS!"

She immediately took his cape and wrapped it around his head before making a break for it. By the time Mikey had composed himself she was no where to be seen.

"You may have gotten away this time villain. But the Turtle Titian won't go so easy in you next time."

And with that he returned to the lair.

The rest of the night Mikey couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned but she stuck to his brain like one of those impossible to remove paper stickers. Her pretty eyes as they inspected him. Her soft voice floating in the air as she teased him. And oh how she teased him! It gave him butterflies. The confidence in her body language. The smirk playing on her lips.

Her lips...

AND THATS WHERE THAT TRAIN OF THOUGHT ENDS!

After that night Mikey continued to go out every night as Turtle Titan. And every night he failed to catch her. Right as he thought she was within his grasp she's slip away with a wink, and more recently, a kiss on the cheek.

The others were getting a bit confused by Mikey's behavior. The way he insisted to go out every night. The amount of times he'd been caught leaving or returning in his Turtle Titian outfit. How he would skip movie nights just to go out for a couple of hours.

Splinter tried to talk to him but Mikey deflected. If any of his brothers confronted him about it he'd just tell them it was for extra training. It was clear to them they weren't getting anything out of him. So they decided to follow him one night. Close enough to not lose him, but far enough he wouldn't be able to detect them.

"Do you really think we need to follow him? I mean, what if it's private?" Asked Donny.

"What's private about going out in public dressed like a dork?" Raph turned to him.

"I'm just saying what if there's a reason he doesn't want us to know?"

"And what if that reason is that he got himself in trouble and he can't get out of it?" Leo stated, turning away from Mikey to look at Donny and Raph.

"Mikey has never acted like this before. Leaving every night, keeping secrets, skipping movie nights. Something is up and I'm worried it's not good," Leo told them.

Raph and Don stayed quiet about that and turned to each other.

"Well... whatever it is it probably has something to do with that store. He's been staring at it for a while now," Don told them.

They both agreed and looked to the store, and then back at Mikey.

"Do you think you can get anything on it Don?" Leo asked him.

"Way ahead of you Leo," Donny told him turning his laptop around for Leo and Raph to see, "It's a food pantry. They get a bunch of volunteers to help donate, sort, and package food that they hand out to anyone in need.

"Anything sketchy about it?" Leo said.

"Nope. I searched everywhere, even on crazy theory websites. Nothing," he told them shutting the computer and putting it in his bag, "This places record is cleaner than April's kitchen."

"Wow! That clears everything right up!" Raph snarked.

"Do you think he comes here every night?" Leo asked them slightly concerned.

"By the fast pace, short cuts, and carefully calculated movements he took to get here, I'd say it's a plausible theory," Donny answered him.

"Hey, guys, someone's coming out!" Raph motioned for them to come look.

They all gathered to watch as a girl clad in all black exiting the building. Large duffle bag in hand.

"What do you thinks in the bag?" Raph turned to Leo.

"I don't know. Donny?"

"Couldn't say. On the one hand there isn't much to take. On the other there is a lot that could be brought in."

Before they could come up with a plan of action though they heard Mikey screech. Just for a moment but loud enough that anyone near by could hear. Somehow the girl had left the bad at the entrance disappeared and then snuck up on Mikey, who now had his back facing the establishment.

"Donny, go check what's in there before Mikey notices us," Leo instructed.

Donny nodded and headed to the streets for the duffle bag. Raph and Leo however, had found themselves witnesses to a very bizarre (and frankly uncomfortable) interaction.

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

"Another night, another failed attempted at arrest," you sauntered over to him checking your nails, "it's getting quite sad you know."

"The only thing sad here is you when I finally put you behind bars!"

"Uh-huh. And whens that gonna happen?" you questioned with a smirk on your lips.

You moved closer invading his personal space and looking right in his eyes.

"T- tell me what you're planning and it can be tonight," his voice much softer then before.

The closet proximity was making him weak in the knees. It always did. And you knew it too. You would always toy with him to see just how far you could go to get the best reactions. He always thought of what he could do or say to make you just as flustered as you make him but he was always scared he'd make a fool of himself.

"Stuttering doesn't make you a very intimidating hero you know," you sang in his ear before dragging your hand along his chest and walking away from him.

His skin prickled at the motion but he used everything in him to not show it. you took a seat on the edge of the building, feet dangling just barely above the roof floor.

"Well you should be a little more intimidated regardless!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! For a criminal you don't seem very concerned with the super hero literally watching your every move!"

"HA! Maybe I would be it you actually took a swing at me."

"Took a wha-"

You walk closer again. Invading his bubble again.

"Go on. Hit me. Hit me and arrest me like you would a real criminal."

He stared at you. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Should he? That was his whole reason for coming out here every night. Wasn't it? He didn't want to hit you though. Not with the way you looked at him. He wasn't expecting you to say that! Now he doesn't know what to do!

"But you see I know that no matter what I do or say, you won't," you told him as you slid both hands around his neck interlacing your fingers behind his head.

"You're too much of a good boy," you told him before punctuating your sentence with a kiss on is cheek and disappearing into the night.

Mikey stared awe struck at where you once where.

"..."

"What a woman," was all Mikey could say.

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

As the girl bolted to the roof entrance door to leave, Donny returned to his brother's.

"I checked the bag and there was nothing suspicious at all in it. Just a change of clothes, water bottle, wallet, and some snac- wow. What happened up here?"

Raph's face was nothing short of applaud and Leo looked like he wanted to poor bleach in his eyes.

"I don't know and I don't wanna talk about it," Raph told him, "What else did ya get from the bag?"

"Oh. Okay... well, I checked her wallet and found her id. Her name is F/N L/N. I did a background check on her and turns out her dad owns the place and she helps out regularly. She closes up most nights."

"Well that was a huge waste of our night," Raph sighs.

"Well at least we know Mikey's not getting into any trouble," Leo told him as he started leading the way back to the lair.

"What HAS Mikey been getting up to though?" Donny asks him.

"Flirting." Raph deadpanned.

[chibi-lucca]

rise of the brave tangled frozen dragons, but make it a wholesome comedy?

Quick 30 minute sketch comic TwT 

Also, hekcin inspired to drop some ROTBTD fanart and comic since i’ve seen some art of it floating around, I think its currently one or two artists that are posting stuff regularly, but its reviving the flame of this fandom in my heart. So if you know who you are (cuz i’m bad at remembering names) I thank you with ever fiber of my soul. 

Click keep reading if you wish to read my idea on how this little twist on the already twisted story came to be. 

So I have loved the whole ROTBTD since high school, but as I have mentioned before, I'm more of a lurker in fandoms than a participant. 

anyway, this little twist came about when I saw the end of HTTYD 3 and how cute the kids are! I was so happy that Astrid and Hiccup became parents it got me wondering about how they’d handle the plot of ROTBTD with no dragons and kids! 

then the idea went further and I was like “awe, what if Jack, Raps and Mari are all between 16 and 18.” Having the interactions of the dragon riders and this group of misfits would be comedic in itself. 

I then thought, would Hiccup and Astrid, while trying help aid the kids in the plot, be accidentally parenting them also? It made me laugh to think about, but it also gave me so many wholesome family moments. 

I then went “how would they all come together? how they know where to go?” and who better than to add some extra spiritual mumbo-jumbo than Elsa herself, I figured her having a very vivid nightmare about a darkness taking over, and having the people in the dream defeating the evil would be a great start. kinda of like the spirits gave her a warning. 

it would be funny for a good while, having adventures and wholesome bonding moments. this whole story is about being friends and having a bond that makes you part of the family. The darker side of things I haven’t really thought about since I’ve been too hyper focused on humor. 

anyway, lemme know your thoughts! :D 

[anactualdump]

HIII retelling nat's ideas and adding my own ideas as a result of it, let me know if i missed anything or anyone wanna add on more 😁

everything has sunk into the sea from an overuse of the thumpers. the surface and limbo has merged, water completely surrounds the world for millions of years

with some other changes where spawns are flesh (much like orthodites) and pol didn't start out human. probably humans wouldn't survive the thumper catastrophe lmao so they're extinct. but other species gain intelligence and pretty much replace humans/look like them but are not related in any way

those survived who aren't respawns live on floating platforms, small shreds of land. probably the top of a thumper and other large structures. and meow's head xD some evolve to live in the sea

those in the sea kinda lives like in jekischear from respawns and souls, while those above are marginally safer but not completely safe due to surfacing respawns and souls or distrust of their own brethren

territories on land although small are aggressive to any foreign activity, including from their own species whom may survive from under the sea. everyone looks mad wacky at this point lmao, and some have trusted respawns but they often get exiled from their communities

for those completely against respawns, it's hard to trust others or be trusted. and if anyone is behaving ever slightly off, they're exiled. those on land (idk what i should name them lmao, it should be a mix of species instead of just one) based their identities entirely around obeying a religious entity

a lot of creatures have since learnt to speak gibberish (respawn language). although are against respawns, they learn to warn them using their own language rather than make the first attack, which often works from avoiding a solo spawn massacre. it eventually became a part of their cultures

pol is a soldier of one of the land creatures who's been assigned to be made as a living weapon to test combat against respawns from below (a mix of natural life and respawn).

he isn't exactly completed yet. he has lots of malfunctions and doesn't know what he could do other than pure instinctual reactions. i like to think every living weapons are supposed to look exactly the same like a specific robot model, so he's generic xD

lolo heres a random comic (this is before shi)

ui is a respawn near meow's head who means to target any land dwellers unfortunate enough to fall as an easy kill

also heres some unrelated cringe

[cartoonistcoop]

ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Seosamh Dáire

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024! 

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.  

Today’s spotlight is Seosamh Dáire ( @saint_vagrant ) and their new comic for ShortBox, THE SOLAR SYSTEM.

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

Seosamh Dáire: Hey thanks for having me! I’m Seosamh Dáire, aka Joe (him/sé.) i have a BFA in Illustration, but more importantly I made a 200-page comic when I was 13 about fantasy angels, and after all that work, dropped it unceremoniously when I realised it wasn’t gay enough. So i’ve been filling the void ever since. Ironically, part of filling the void necessitates making comics about holes, like mine and my partner Anka’s ongoing sci-fi story SUPERPOSE. Recently I was part of the Ignatz-nominated HOME anthology, a collection of autobiographical comics about being of or in Ireland. My work is largely targeted toward mature readers, and last year I made the short 18+ comics TERESIAN for the Noah’s Ark anthology and OSHA VIOLATION (just for fun) and contributed illustrations to the BOOK OF SHADOWS anthologies.

I’ve been making little comics for most of my life, but now i make bigger comics. SUPERPOSE launched in 2016 so even if the clock started at that moment, I’ve been at it for a minute.

Tell us more about your new comic?

SD: Told in a little over 100 black and white pages, THE SOLAR SYSTEM is a trans/anti-military/sci-fi comic set in four timelines. There is Jack, equal parts soldier and experiment, and his mother and father, at odds with what they have made. He meets Nour, a displaced prodigy sniper, an intended footnote in the list of consequences of his parents’ work. With Jack as a vassal and Nour a resistance soldier, they find each other on opposite sides every time in a fight over the control of a superweapon, whose detonation puts the timelines into motion.

Tell us about your creative process; how did you develop this comic and what are the steps you took to bring it to the final stage?

SD: As with most of my work, I got smacked over the head with the frying pan of an idea and immediately went for it. There were some loose concepts floating around prior, but my acceptance to the fair gave me an excuse to solidify it. I wrote (plotted out, scripted) three different versions—I like each one tremendously. THE SOLAR SYSTEM is the third pass, and actually incorporates aspects of that process in the story itself by way of distinct but interconnected parts. the format also took a lot of concentration, as it’s all interwoven, and while not linear, i wanted each next thing to unfold naturally from the last.

The development of the story held all my focus, whereas art was less of a concern since I didn’t expect to draw in a different style, but rather make myself comfortable with a different level of finish, and confined myself to only a couple select tools to accomplish this. It’s the first comic I’ve made using Clip Studio, drawn straight into it without using anything other than a few modified brushes. Then I finished (text/dialogue, any extra painting or effects) in Photoshop.

I value the time I spend fleshing out each character regardless of how much they feature—how they move and how talk, their idiosyncrasies, are all so vivid to me and finding a way to make that as real to a reader as it is to me is part of the fun. I love challenging myself with “what if?” or “if x then y” and making connections that way, heightening the significance between elements, editing and cutting them together to build to each “aha, there it is” moment; I know it when I see it! Ultimately, even if the themes and ideas of the work aren’t identifiable at first, I care most about conveying emotion and that telling a story. Seeing a stranger cry and not knowing why can still stir you all the same. I do think the comic reveals more upon each return, though…

My comic did require a fair amount of research, which is something for which I enjoy any excuse to do. Starting off broadly helps me narrow with more intentionality, although it can get a bit overwhelming—there really is always more to know, and it takes me some time to find a solid place to settle. For reading, I revisited old and new writing/listening from Irish socialists as well as that in the Caucasus, and destabilisation by American interests, also referred to some surreal papers on combat tactics by American colonels which is unsettling stuff, but endlessly interesting.

I owe much inspiration to the IRA, PFLP, YPG/PKK, and Soviet partisans, among many others. 

Do you have any creative rituals or routines to prepare yourself to make comics?

SD: As much as I seek out new resources, I return to the things I’ve always loved. It reminds me what drives me—I’m very emotionally, creatively satisfied even just by select moments within a larger work, such that I get something new out of the experience every time even if it doesn’t directly apply to the project. I rewatched Into The West, The Manchurian Candidate (2004 version), the Escaflowne film, Spriggan, Solaris, I watched Heat… and then rewatched the ending of Heat. Obsession is my ritual, really.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

[casual-praxis]

Okay, so I know I said I wasn't going to do much with this AU since I was focused on a different one at the time (and I still am), but I've been thinking about the post-canon for this AU a bunch and I couldn't get it out of my head.

The designs are fairly simple (most changes occur post-canon), but there's still a few details in there that I'd like to talk about! Peep below the cut for more yappin' if you'd like.

(I just figured out how to add line breaks yeehaw)

I started with Green since I had the clearest picture of her in mind. I like to think they all got a mishmash of traits from the original Link here, so Green has the og Link's ponytail, but its length was divided between her and Red. All in all, she resembles Link the closest but isn't an exact match. I also made the executive decision that she simps for Zelda. She's just really worried about her future girlfriend, okay?

Blue didn't quite turn out how I'd hoped, but if I ever do something more with this stage of the AU, I can always make adjustments. Her hair is supposed to be the fluffiest, matching the og Link's texture. She's a little insecure about it making her look "too girly" or cute since that's not at all the image she wants to have, but she learns over time that being cute and badass can still go hand in hand.

Red is the one I was looking forward to drawing most, but she's still fairly simple as well. She wears her hair in a side ponytail to "not step on Green's toes", but also because she thinks it's cute (she and Blue don't see eye to eye on this early on, as you can imagine). She has a bomb-shaped hairbow that she made herself (tying into her post-canon shenanigans), but I haven't yet figured out when she acquires it.

Vio was supposed to be holding her bow here but I couldn't quite figure out how to draw it at that specific angle, so it's in hammerspace for now. Outside that, Vio's design has the most variety. She's meant to learn emotions over time within this au, and this progression is marked by the flowers in her hair. She starts out with none, but as they journey, Red starts to teach her the basics, and with it weaves Zelda's favorite flower into her braid. Once she joins up with Shadow, she's gifted a violet (because Shadow thinks it's punny, and for subtext reasons) that she starts using to pin her bangs out of her face. The flowers begin to wilt as time goes on, first the wildflowers, then the violet, until none remain and the final act is approaching. Shadow gives her one last violet before dying, though Vio doesn't actually start wearing it until the Four Sword is put back and they remain behind. Lots of lore for this one.

Finally is Shadow, who I'm actually surprised turned out so well. I went back and forth on whether I wanted her to wear the hat or not, but I ended up deciding against it since none of the others wear their hats either. Her hair pretty much acts like Shadow's hat in canon, it moves independently of her and the tips of it are smokey and wisp around. Along with Red, I have decided she is short. It just felt right. She does have claws and fangs, but she keeps them a little more on the down low until a suitably dramatic moment occurs to reveal them.

And that's all that comes to mind for now. I've had this idea floating around in my brain since I got back into the fandom, but never had the motivation to poke it too much and see what it do.

The post-canon is what I've mainly been focused on, so maybe I'll try and doodle a few things for it sometime. I took inspiration from one of the bonus comics in the manga where they all stay split after the sword goes back, so that's the canon ending for this au.

It goes fairly far into the future, with all of them settling into their own lives somewhat independent of each other (they all see each other multiple times a week with the exception of Vio, who travels a lot with Shadow ((who may or may not have been brought back through dubious dark magic rituals))).

The brainrot is real, but hopefully entertaining for anyone who made it this far.

[ultravioletrayz]

Hi! I saw you write for Lyla smut too and was wondering if I could request one with Lyla is edging reader with a remote control vibrator? Thank you!!

OMG OMG OMG A LYLA REQUEST!!

Pairing: lyla x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, use of sex toys, edging, slight praise kink, squirting

Summary: lyla wants to have fun with her fav, stressed out spider-person!!

A/N: this probs isn’t gonna get as much attention as my miguel stuff because lyla is criminally underrated

Word Count: 901

It had been a rough day. You got your ass kicked on a mission, left your wallet at home so you had no money for the cafeteria at HQ, and Miguel was barking orders left and right about reports that urgently needed to be filled out. You just felt so exhausted, so pathetic, that you ran off to your quarters to collect yourself. You would’ve just fucked things up worse if you continued working in such a frantic state. Noticing your absence, Miguel had sent Lyla in to check on you.

The little AI woman immediately noticed your tense shoulders, the way your hands kept gripping onto things to keep your focus on anything other than your mistakes today, and the way you glared up at Lyla’s hologram. You were always Lyla’s favourite person to be around, a breath of fresh air from having to assist a grump like Miguel all day every day, so she could tell just how stressed and embarrassed you were feeling.

“There’s no need to be sad, sweetie. You did nothing wrong.” Lyla says, her honeyed tone and the soft orange glow of her avatar filling the small room. 

You remain silent as you wallow in your own shame, Lyla’s comforting words falling on deaf ears as you stare at her with disinterest, scoffing and rolling your eyes at her feeble attempts to alleviate your stress. “You’re only here because O’Hara told you to come in and tell me off. I don’t need your pity, I’ll be fine in a couple minutes.”

Lyla pouts and floats above your tear-stained face, her eyes studying yours behind her heart-shaped sunglasses. She doesn’t want you to feel fine, she wants you to feel spectacular. It’s then that she gets an absolutely absurd idea, a cheeky grin on her holographic face as she quickly leaves the room and comes back, her program controlling a little robot that carries a sleek black box into the room. You raise an eyebrow at the comical display of Lyla waving goodbye to the robot and hovering above the box, so far unimpressed by whatever she’s doing to cheer you up.

“If that’s food, I don’t want it. I already got over the whole wallet thing, Pav shared some of his lunch with me.” You sigh dismissively, standing up from your bed to entertain Lyla’s little plan and walking towards the box that was dumped on the little dresser in the corner of the room. Lyla bites her bottom lip as she watches you open it, giggling at the wide-eyed, shocked expression on your pretty face when you see the little, baby blue vibrator sitting inside of its packaging.

“Lyla-” You start, but Lyla shushes you with a wide smile, instructing you to take the vibrator and lay back down on your bed. “You’ve been so stressed lately, let me make you feel better, honey.”

“Mmm… fuck! Lyla, please! Please, no more-!” You sob, thrashing and writhing around on the bed as Lyla flickers and hovers above you, giggling as she watches your movements and reactions intently. It had been half an hour since you first opened that stupid box, and you’ve been begging to cum ever since, with no mercy from the snarky little AI as she revels in watching you let go and fall apart because of her. She plays with the speeds of the vibrator using the remote equipped by her avatar, making you mewl when she maxes it out and the coil in your tummy starts to tighten again and leaving you crying and whining when she lowers it or turns it off completely right before you cum.

Lyla changed the outfit her avatar is wearing, too, opting for a delicate pair of pastel yellow lingerie as she models for you, making you moan as your half-lidded, glazed-over eyes drink up every tiny detail of her holographic figure, making you instinctively press the little vibrator harder against your throbbing, swollen clit and babble about how pretty she looks and how nice she is. It makes Lyla laugh, to see her lovely, stressed little coworker arching her back and aching to cum for her. She knows she’s done her job as an assistant, and she once again amps up the speed of the vibrator, making your thighs tremble and your brows knit together, eyes closed in agonising pleasure.

“You look so cute when you’re like this,” Lyla coos, hovering closer to your naked body so that she can ogle the way your soft breasts move as you pant and the way your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the vibrator. 

When you open your eyes to see Lyla right above you, with that curious, infatuated look on her little face, you come undone. With a loud squeal, you squirt all over the baby blue toy, your juices coating the plain bedsheets and travelling straight through Lyla’s holographic form. You shudder and gasp for air, letting the vibrator fall from your grip as your once tense body melts against the mattress, the stress and embarrassment from earlier trumped by the pure bliss of the moment.

“Feel better?” Lyla asks teasingly, her hologram flickering as she enables her everyday outfit again. 

All you can muster is a tired, relaxed smile and a lazy nod as you laugh softly. Now all you had to worry about was explaining the noise to Miguel…

Lyla fuels my love of pretty AI women… and women in general LMAO

[safe-from-sharp-teeth]

Ayo! I haven't answered asks in FOREVER, so it's time for some spring cleaning :) Also answering other stuff, like what I've been up to.

If you sent an ask and it's not here, sorry! I may have deleted it because the prompt required too much work of me and I wasn't feeling it, or I was uncomfortable.

Let's gooooo !

Firstly - where have I been? Work REALLY picked up in a way I wasn't expecting over the last...4 months? I was working double and often triple the hours I was used to. With work, vacations, random illnesses, and many video games I got a bit too obsessed with, this blog took a backseat. Plus, sometimes I get disinterested in vore when obsessed with something else. Sometimes, that lasts months, and it did this time.

But now I can confirm that work will FINALLY chill for a long period of time. I'm free! And more motivated than ever! Wahoo! Thanks for your support ALWAYS.

Next big question - when am I going to do more of my story? The one with Asyr? AHHHHHGHHGHH this story has consumed my life. I think about it daily. I dream about it. And yet I'm not as comfortable writing as I am drawing, so writing is a slow process that my perfectionist ass struggles with. I can assure you that there is a story in the works - and I am working on it at a snail's pace.

Okay, ask time...

@ponyluvesonic09 AYO maybe I'll make a full ghost pred pros/con list for you, because that sounds awesome! Kir//by is one of the silliest canon preds out there. Honestly getting eaten by him would be like getting vored by a vacuum, LOL. Galaxy tummy!! Imagine a prey floating around in one of those item bubbles all grumpy. Thank u for the ask, this is good stuff.

no. ( /・・)ノ

UWAGHHHHH I LIKE HER!!! Never played O/verwat/ch but what a gem!! I have a random fondness for centaur-like preds nowadays. She looks so cozy. THANK U I LOVE HER!!!

@tiger9o0 I have not played r//ain w//orld or know what it's about, LOL. Looks like a platformer? Man, I'm terrrriiiiibblleee at those. But whoever this is on the cover, I LIKE EM. A+. (That might not answer ur question shdjbghkjg SORRY)

@heimkoheimkofan LOVE THAT I GOT THE ROBOT ENJOYERS AFTER THAT ONE POST....YES yall are so right and I'm so wrong for just hard metal robot tums. I will rectify my mistake soon I PROMISE. Also oh! You were the one asking about stomachs other than elemental ones! IVE HAD THAT IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER IM SORRY AHHHH. I REALLY love your imagination with tums and you've inspired me to think of some awesome environments! THANKS

@fastfur07 BWAH?? Ugh I'm all over the place when it comes to art. Some pieces take 30 min (like the zangooc I drew at the top of this post), most take 2 days. Some really hard drawings like my wolf bat creechur from a few months ago and my shrimp from last year took a month. THANK U??

We're going back so far that I think this is about my naga oc (which I'm in the midst of redesigning cough cough). For him, he would never tolerate being prey, extremely unwilling bahaha. In general, I haven't thought much about naga or snake prey! I get the appeal of slurping up a noodle, but I just prefer human prey :)

@fastfur07 you fiend, you always give me the best drawing ideas. UNFORTUNATELY, I didn't have time to draw something for this one. BUTTTT....

(i've had this next one in my drafts for forever)

then i had a silly comic. I'll post the wip here because I won't finish it, so enjoy bahaha.

@blizzaria123-blog THANK U im rapidly melting into a puddle from ur words

@mrpotatomanversionsix relevant. i will continue drawing them 4 u

?!??!!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!? how dare u enter my ask box with this blasphemy

@sfwsillynoms WAH!!! you!!! I'm currently redesigning my naga oc but when I finish I'll tag you, if you're still around! And he can 100% be drawn with ur preysona :)

@mystorl i am SO late to this, but SMART. I like it. I shall give my lil guy this friend. I just want to let u know that I see this and it's wonderful and I will do something abt it.

I remember this ask made me laugh a ton when I first got it. thank u. idk why I find this so funny

@sillylilprey IM CRYING RIGHT BACK AHHHH this is an ancient ask, but thank u! hope you're still enjoying!

@terrytheinsane finally, the last ask in my askbox. I love it. You have been wronged with how long it took me to answer you. I have gained knowledge from your ask. THANKS

AND THAT'S IT!! Thanks guys, I hope to make you proud! Feel free to send more asks, and hopefully I will answer in a TIMELY manner.

Goodnight! And remember: Nice Vore ᕕ༼⌐■-■༽ᕗ

[meanbossart]

A long over-due ask compilation (Art & Music)

It's vaguely based on a short story from the book "The Consumer" by Michael Gira, specifically "The Boss". I think it came up in conversation with a friend or something when I was picking a new username, so that's how we arrived at it - this was almost a decade ago so, my memory on it is a little hazy!

{MORE UNDER THE CUT]

HAHA thank you so much!!! Glad you enjoy what I do 😎🍻

I BELIEVE this little guide I put together over here might be helpful to you, also! I touched on pretty much everything you brought up.

As for reference material when it comes to facial expressions, I have a mirror next to my desk which I glance at often and make weird faces at LOL and for consistency, it's really a matter of learning to dissect and remember facial structure. It's just something you end up developing an eye for when you've done it for long enough! Naturally, if we're talking about drawing existing characters, it's always helpful to just look at some pictures of their mugs and take a minute to define what features about them make their faces recognizable - I touch on this at the link above as well!

I do plan on making a "drowstarion" (love that, by the way LOL) playlist eventually, life's just been kicking my ass and I hardly have the time 😭and when I do, I just wanna draw.

Otherwise I don't have any other playlists floating around at the moment, BUT the one my boyfriend made for his Vellioth comic can be found here, and it might scratch a similar itch!

Thank you! I believe this was in reference to this post. Something like that takes me about... An hour??? If we're talking just the colors, at least. Though that's a really rough estimate because I take a lot of breaks, so my sense of time when I work ends up pretty skewed. Even if the application of the colors themselves took less than 20 minutes I probably spent 2 hours just staring at it LOL.

My friend, I have no idea. I'm in a constant battle between "I want to draw more realistically" and "I want to simplify my art so I can draw more/faster". What you see is the result of that ongoing brain-tug-of-war.

Also, just the way I assume everyone else develops theirs - they see stuff they like and emulate it until their art is Frankensteinish enough to be it's own unique thing!

I'm far from a Type O Negative buff, BUT I'm happy to share some of my favorites with you! They're quite scattered across a couple of their albums so I'm not sure I have a favorite, but I would say October Rust is a good starting point.

In no particular order, these are my most listened tracks of theirs: -Love You to Death -Black N.01 -Haunted -She Burned Me Down -Can't Lose You -I Don't Wanna Be Me -Be My Druidess -September Sun -Tripping A Blind Man

Alas, I was one of those people who was already drawing in kindergarten 😅 though I would say I only started taking it seriously when I was around 15-16 years old. As someone who has tried their hand at several other hobbies since reaching adulthood, I get what you're saying that it can kinda feel like... You missed the wagon? I've felt that way about all kind of things lol

That said, I've seen adults managing to develop their art skills extremely fast and effectively before. Understanding where and how you need to improve, and how to follow lessons/guides best is something that is vastly improved by maturity and knowing how to best hone your time, attention, and resources - and those are skills we completely lack as children. So, I sincerely believe that as long as you commit yourself, you can definitely get to a point that you're happy with in a couple of years if not less.

JUST DO IT BUDDY we are all just people looking through a screen and you won't ever see, talk, or meet 99% of the folks who ever clap eyes on what you post. Whenever you start getting nervous about sharing something, take a minute to ask yourself why you're nervous, and if none of the reasons have any genuine substance besides being afraid of what people "might think", just go ahead and post it. You're no mind-reader after all, and if you are, I doubt you can hear what a guy from Argentina or wherever is thinking about the art you made.

Point is, nobody online can touch you 🤷and if someone doesn't like what you do, they can simply choose to not interact with it, and if they do you can block and move on. There are zero reasons for you to feel "bad" about putting up a doodle when our experiences on the web are so easily curated nowadays.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Ball & Chain of My Own Making

Written as part of the Sonic the Hedgehog Big Bang 2024, hosted by @sthbigbang!

Summary: Set in the Sonic the Comic (Fleetway Publications) universe. Now that Robotnik's grasp on the planet has finally been removed, the world is beginning to recover. During this process, Sonic goes to meet up with his old friend, Porker Lewis, on the Floating Island. Unfortunately, they're long overdue for a conversation…and it's going to happen whether he wants it to or not.

Wonderful art (may contain spoilers!) by:

@eosomit (GORGEOUS ART BY EOSOMIT HERE) @pikafleetsyolo (FANTASTIC ART BY PIKAFLEETS HERE)

AO3 Link

Wooden scaffolding arched towards the bright blue sky, free of smog for the first time in years. The foundations of future homes spread out across the land of the Emerald Hill Zone, built atop the rubble and ashes of the original village, proving that soon, the people who once lived here would be back and better than ever before.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the scaffolds, making them shake but not crumble under its force—because after all, this was no ordinary wind. This was the controlled tailwind created by the high-octane racing of one Sonic the Hedgehog, Hero of Mobius, reaching speeds even faster than his namesake.

He skidded to a stop in the midst of the construction, admiring the view around him. It was good to finally see the world rebuilding now that Robotnik had fallen…this had been just a dream for far too long, so to have it become tangible reality, something he could reach out and touch, was downright awesome.

After a few moments, he spotted one of his closest friends, Miles “Tails” Prower—to him just Tails—helping to push a high-up beam into a slightly better position with the assistance of his namesake tails, which spun like the blades of a helicopter.

“Hey, pal, you got anything ya need taking care of ‘round here?” Sonic yelled up to him. “Because you know if you do, it’ll be done before you’re finished saying so!” he finished, winking up at the fox.

Tails flew down from his place atop the framework, landing neatly in front of Sonic. “I’m afraid that was actually the last piece of work I had on my list for now! I think I’m going to go help out Johnny with his staff—he says it’s been on the blink lately, and I thought it surely couldn’t be much harder than that time I helped you repair your plane!” He beckoned happily for Sonic to walk alongside him as the two headed back to their current base of operations, and the hedgehog did so without protest.

“Hmh.” Sonic replied eloquently, folding his arms and frowning slightly. “Amy and Tekno are still out too, yeah?”

“They are…” Tails looked up at his friend for a moment, before his eyes widened with an idea. “Hey, there has to be a couple of malfunctioning badniks left to take out somewhere, right?”

Sonic sighed. “Not for a hundred miles—and believe me, I’ve looked.”

The fox’s twin tails flicked nervously. “I mean, the only work we have going on right now is this whole relocation project…the thing is, I don’t think any other baddies are quite ready to crawl out of the shadows so soon after Robotnik vanished.” he explained.

Sonic abruptly snapped his fingers. “Hey, there’s an idea! I’m gonna take the Tornado up to the Floating Island, see how that end of the relocation’s shaking out up there! Seeya, gotta scram!”

And with that, he was gone, Tails’s call of “bye!” (accompanied by an understanding smile he didn’t see) just barely reaching him.

Within moments, Sonic was already in the cockpit of his trusty biplane, flipping switches with the muscle memory of someone who had piloted it a hundred times before. His eyes roamed over the controls, then shifted to the shining red paint that adorned it—

…oh no…what have I done?

The Hero of Mobius abruptly froze, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly as he remembered an earlier version of this very plane, crumbling and burning before his eyes—the fire had burned all around him, smoke choking the air, but this time not from one of Robotnik’s factories, instead it—

Sonic shook his head, gritting his teeth and forcing his quills to relax. “Everything worked out just fine,” he muttered. “He’s gone now. Amy and Tekno said so.”

With a few sharp movements, the plane’s engine was running smoothly, and Sonic taxied it down the runway and took off with ease. He only needed a moment to remember the controls, and then his memory of flying between islands on his adventures took over at last. 

As he climbed in altitude, he banked the plane around so it was pointing straight towards the Floating Island. While Tails had added a map to the Tornado, making it easier than ever to navigate, Sonic didn’t need any of that. He might not have…one particular effect from the Chaos Emeralds any longer, but that didn’t mean their energy would ever stop being intertwined with his being in a way he neither could nor cared to explain. 

He glanced briefly over the side of the biplane, enjoying the sight of Emerald Hill’s in-progress town below, now resembling a child’s plaything more than the towering structures he’d seen Tails working on earlier. 

As Sonic flew further, he passed over rivers that were running cleaner than before (though their banks still bore remnants of sludge) and the half-destroyed ruins of several of Robotnik’s factories. He smirked with a grim sort of satisfaction as he spotted a particularly torn-up building, stamped with that grinning logo all mangled and broken, unable to churn out even one more ounce of material to support the now-toppled Empire.

Thankfully for his notoriously short patience, it didn’t take Sonic long at all to reach the Floating Island. Avoiding the populated Mushroom Hill Zone for the time being, he instead circled the plane around over a large grassy clearing just outside the Hidden Palace, coming in for an (in his opinion) impressively smooth landing.

Sonic hopped out of the biplane after cutting its motor, grinning broadly. Any second now…

“SONIC!” a voice bellowed from within, accompanied by the sound of heavy footfalls. “What on Mobius are you doing here?”

Knuckles the Echidna stepped out of the shadows of the Hidden Palace, his arms folded over his chest and his ever-present glower meeting Sonic’s expectations perfectly. “You’d better not have shown up just to cause trouble. The Emerald Hill folk are in the middle of packing up their entire lives, and I am already at my limit with all the chaos around here.”

Sonic swiped under his nose, his smirk growing wider. “You’ve gotta be having some real trouble guarding all those Chaos Emeralds then, huh? I can always take care of them if you’re not up to it!”

Knuckles’s jaw tightened. “Sonic, I swear—“

“Relax, knucklehead!” he interrupted, cutting Knuckles off before he could get truly enraged. (Unfortunately, the continued presence of his smug smile may not have particularly helped, but he was more than fine with that.) “You should know I’m not here to mess anything up! Just popped up here to check out how things are going on your end. I don’t expect them to be moving quite as fast as my folks, obviously, but I figured if anyone could help speed the process up a little, it’d be yours truly.”

The echidna appeared momentarily torn between the promise of getting complete peace and quiet on his island sooner, or getting marginally more peace and quiet right now by hurling Sonic bodily off the island. Eventually, he just fixed the hero with his most stern glare, before pointing wordlessly to the door of the Hidden Palace.

Sonic snickered, strolling casually into the building and enjoying the irate grumbling behind him. Knuckles was just too easy to rile up, and his reactions were always fantastic.

“Oh, Knuckles, did you find out who it wa—Sonic!”

The hedgehog in question nearly jumped in surprise, but managed to conceal it beneath a smooth pivot to face the speaker…only to smile broadly once he registered just who it was. 

Sitting at one of the consoles around the massive room was none other than Porker Lewis, his old friend and former fellow Freedom Fighter. Porker practically leapt out of his chair, dashing over to greet Sonic more properly. “It’s just wonderful to see you! How’s everything going?”

Sonic flashed his trademark grin, not-so-subtly preening in response to Porker’s unfiltered enthusiasm. “You know me, always chillin’. Howzabout yourself, Lewis? Enjoying that island life?” he added, winking.

Porker smiled wryly, shaking his head. “I’m liking it a lot more now that Robotnik’s gone. Getting to help repair the technology Knuckles’s ancestors left behind is important work, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not nearly as intense as trying to topple a dictatorship.”

The hero’s face didn’t move a millimeter, but somehow, his smile felt so much more strained. “Yeah. It’s…good that’cha can just work on that now instead of having to put up with badniks all day, every day.”

Porker’s own expression faltered briefly, before he brightened up again, albeit more mellow than before. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t just come here to stand around and talk! I’m supposed to be repairing some of the zoom tubes in the Hydrocity Zone today, but I can leave that for later if you want to have a look around Mushroom Hill together.”

“Psh, no way! It’s been ages since I got to give Hydrocity the old run-around, I’ve gotta see if I can beat my fastest time down there! You wouldn’t deprive your old buddy Sonic a chance to do that, wouldja?” The blue hedgehog bounced into a more dynamic stance, one fist held in front of himself and his other hand thrown back as though he were about to spindash right this very second.

“If you tear up this chamber, I will throw you into the ocean.” Knuckles huffed, making Sonic scoff and straighten back up to face the serious guardian. At that very moment, Sonic’s eyes caught on exactly what Knuckles was leaning against—specifically, one of the switchboards in front of the Emeralds’ storage column. 

“Forget it, Porker…you’ve already done more than your share.”

“Don’t mention her, buddy. Lately she’s been driving me up the wall!”

“Whaaaa—!”

(The rock Sonic had been leaning against crumbled beneath him without warning, and he was sent pitching backwards into the column of pure Chaos energy. It surged through him, bright and powerful…and…violent…)

“Whoa, hey, Sonic? Sonic? You with me?”

“Agh!” He jumped backwards, immediately dropping into a fighting stance…before seeing that it was just Knuckles in front of him, one gloved hand raised as though he’d just been waving it in Sonic’s field of view. “Geez, Knucklehead, warn a guy next time you decide to stick your hand in his face, huh?”

“…you didn’t even react after I said I was gonna…chuck you off the island and all that. I didn’t actually mean it, you know. You might be annoying, but I’m not just going to let you drown.” the echidna muttered, still watching Sonic warily, as though he were about to space out again at any minute.

And Sonic wasn’t having any of that.

“Tch, I was just daydreaming about new ways to spindash that smug look ‘a yours right off your face.” he retorted, folding his arms defiantly. “I don’t hafta dignify every smart-aleck thing you say with a comeback, do I?”

Knuckles rubbed his brow, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Whatever. Porker, can you please take him anywhere that isn’t here? Mushroom Hill, Hydrocity, either way, just…ugh.”

Porker laughed sympathetically, walking up to stand next to Sonic, now with some papers in his arms and some tools on a belt. “I certainly can. So, Hydrocity, is it, then?” he asked the blue hero lightly.

“You know it!” Sonic gave him a thumbs up, before following his old friend to one of the doorways leading out of the Emerald Chamber. 

The two friends traveled down a short hallway, which led to a shaft so deep Sonic couldn’t even begin to see the bottom. Stairs spiraled around its outside, while a pole speared down the center, attached to the ceiling at one end and presumably the floor at the other.

Porker looked over at Sonic. “How about a race? You on the stairs, and me on the pole?” he asked. 

Sonic’s expression split into what had to be the biggest grin he’d worn yet. “You do realize you’re gonna lose embarrassingly, right?”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I can’t at least try, does it?” Porker insisted, his hands in his pockets and the set of his shoulders easy. Internally, Sonic appreciated the sight of his friend relaxed and happy. It had been far too long since he’d last seen Porker like this, after all.

The Hero of Mobius dashed over to the top of the stairs, settling into a sprinter’s starting position. “You sure you’re ready for this, Sonic?” the engineer sked, smiling cheekily as he grabbed onto the pole with both gloved hands.

“Ha! I’ve been ready, Lewis, you oughta know that by now!”

“Alright then!” Porker announced, to the otherwise empty room. “Three! Two! One! Go!”

Immediately, the former Freedom Fighter pushed off the platform and began to slide down the pole—but that could never compare to the power of pure Sonic speed. The instant the sound “go” hit his ears, Sonic tore off down the stairs so fast that anyone watching wouldn’t have been able to make out his features, only seeing the blue blur that had earned him yet another of his many monikers.

Sonic couldn’t help but beam as the wind whistled through his quills and his sneakers pounded on the staircase, loving the thrill of adrenaline that came from riding the line between landing each step as quickly as possible and tumbling into an uncontrolled fall. His agility had to be perfect to pull this off…and of course, it was. He was Sonic the Hedgehog, after all.

Once he hit the bottom, he looked up, waiting for Porker to appear. Thankfully, he’d only just started tapping his foot by the time the engineer came into view.

“Took you long enough!” Sonic smirked up at him, his arms folded and one eyebrow raised.

Porker smiled back. “Well, pardon me for not wanting to free-fall out of control! Not all of us are invincible Heroes of Mobius—that’s your job, after all!”

Sonic hesitated briefly, something about the title resonating oddly in his chest. “Say, speaking of which…it was…a little heroic, kinda, to be the one to clap Robotnik in cuffs like that. How’d you manage it?”

“Oh! Well, it wasn’t much, really. I was just trying to help some of the Emerald Hill folk evacuate out of the Mushroom Hill Zone, when I saw Robotnik trying to escape that massive fight you and Knuckles had with Dr. Zachary! I managed to rally a few of the braver people, and together we got the drop on him and cuffed him before he knew what happened,” Porker explained, beginning to walk into the zone as he spoke. “We were only able to get him because he was so thrown off guard by actually losing his grip on power for once—it was an opportunity we wouldn’t have gotten again! I may have left the Freedom Fighters, but I wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night if I’d let him get away, you know?”

Sonic could feel his confusion showing on his face, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to stop it. “You…I guess, but…”

“Is everything alright?” Porker was frowning in concern, and that was enough to convince Sonic that this conversation wasn’t worth pursuing any longer. 

He laced his hands behind his head casually. “Yeah, sure! You know me, since when am I not?”

“…” When Sonic snuck a peek at his friend out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Porker still looked uneasy. 

Luckily for him, a Bugernaut suddenly swooped down at Porker, forcing him to duck out of the way. Within seconds, Sonic had curled into a ball, smashing the badnik and landing with ease. He quickly scanned the area for any more, spotting a few patrolling in a line farther ahead. While Robotnik was gone, his influence clearly still lingered, even up here on the Floating Island.

Briefly, he glanced back at his friend, who shot him a quick smile and a thumbs-up—which was all he needed to tear off in pursuit. It was a matter of a single jump to reach the nearest platform, and then only one more leap to bounce from badnik to badnik in a line, freeing the various little critters inside.

Sonic landed on an even higher platform, crouching by the edge to scan the ground below for Porker. He could jump down easily…but that would mean more awkward conversation. And when his alternative was scouting ahead and taking out any leftover badniks so Porker wouldn’t have to deal with them? It was hardly a choice at all.

He waved to get Porker’s attention, before jerking a thumb over his shoulder and holding up his fists like he was about to get into a cartoonish fight. The former Freedom Fighter gave him a friendly salute back, before turning back to his path towards the busted zoom tube. Sonic let out a breath that, had anyone else heard, he would have denied having been a sigh. Then, in a blink, he wasn’t there at all, only a blue streak of light marking the path he’d taken. 

Thankfully, he did turn out to have a genuine excuse to rush on ahead, as he found several more clusters of badniks after that initial line of Bugernauts. While Porker followed the lower paths, Sonic took every shortcut he could find in an effort to cover as much ground as possible. However, being thorough did mean he had to make some…unfortunate choices, as well. Hanging from a slow rope pulley above water wasn’t exactly his idea of fun, and neither was the promise of dropping into the water to clear out some aquatic badniks, but let nobody ever say that the Hero of Mobius and leader of the Freedom Fighters wasn’t committed to what he did.

With a gulp of air, Sonic opened his hands and let himself drop, curling into a ball and crashing directly into the water. Thankfully, this particular area seemed to have a fast current to it, meaning that he merely had to keep himself curled up and let the water turn him into a badnik-busting buzzsaw. 

Not really loving the lack of air down here, Sonic thought to himself impatiently, finally uncurling in search of an air bubble once he was reasonably sure the room was clear. Now where would…

There!

A small imperfection in the floor of the area had allowed a tiny crack to form in the material. At that exact point, the liquid could freely drip out—but more importantly, air could flow in. Happily, it didn’t take long at all for an air bubble to appear that was big enough for Sonic to use, and he inhaled the oxygen inside eagerly.

His energy restored, the hedgehog made his way over to a slightly narrower section of pipe, letting the current sweep him along once more. Annoyingly, the water turbines were still active, but it was a small price to pay for his otherwise quick progress, and he could easily avoid them with the help of the support struts used to help the pipe hold its shape. Besides, before long, he was spindashing up a ramp and out of the water, soaring high into the air before landing with perfect ease. 

After a bit of casual platform-hopping, Sonic spied Porker a little ways away, kneeling by a strange mechanism and seemingly inspecting it. This must’ve been the fix-it job he had to do, Sonic mused, before leaping down to join his friend alongside the ancient travel system. 

“So, how’s it going?” he asked, making poor Porker yelp and drop his screwdriver with a clatter, startled.

“Sonic!” he scolded, but his smile severely diminished any attempt at properly convincing the hedgehog to regret his actions. “You startled me!”

“I have eyes, I noticed,” Sonic quipped, shifting to lean casually against the wall. “You didn’t answer my question though, you really gonna leave a guy hanging like that? And here I thought we were friends.” he complained, wearing a faux-devastated expression.

Porker stared at him blankly for a moment, before recognition lit up his eyes. “Oh, yes, of course! It really is on you for making me forget, though.” Sonic scoffed lightly, but otherwise didn’t speak, leaving room for Porker to continue.

“It’s frankly quite a simple fix,” the engineer began. “While the tubes themselves are largely made of stone, the mechanical parts that create the vacuum necessary to enable this kind of rapid travel are much more delicate and therefore prone to failure. That’s why the tubes here aren’t working anymore—there must have been a malfunction in this area. Now all I need to do is open it up—” and just as he said this, he heaved a panel off the side of the structure in front of him, revealing an incomprehensible mess of pistons, cogs, and other unidentifiable bits and bobs. “—and figure out what's going on in here.”

“Huh. Why’d the echidnas decide to stick this thing all the way down here instead of up with everything else in the Emerald chamber? Somehow I don’t get the sense they were particularly in it for the sightseeing opportunity.” Sonic remarked, moving to lean against a different piece of the machine’s casing.

Porker’s laugh rang out from the metal walls of the structure, having already slid mostly inside to take a closer look. “Beats me! Knuckles and I are still having quite a time working on translating the ancient language used on most of the schematics for this place. We just got the blueprints for this all sorted out yesterday—it only became a major priority when the tubes stopped functioning. I haven’t even had a chance to dig through more of what we think are records, since most of our focus has been on the way the Floating Island works anyhow.”

Sonic smirked at the sound of Porker’s evident good mood. “Ol’ Knucklehead better have those blueprints all translated correctly, or else he’s gonna wind up going backwards instead of forwards next time he hops in one a’ these!”

“Oh goodness, I certainly hope it doesn’t come to that!” Porker still sounded amused, but also a little concerned. Not ideal. “At least they’d be working again, I suppose!”

“Well, pal, tell ya what. ‘Cause I’m such a kind and generous soul, I’ll give the tubes a spin once you’ve got them all set up! Just make sure to double-check your screws first—I’m not about to have Knuckles laughing at me if I get closely acquainted with the nearest rock, alright?”

“I’ll certainly do my best!” the engineer replied brightly. “Wait—oh, Sonic, I think I’ve found the problem!” he added, shifting around some more inside the machine.

“Forreal? Huh, I guess all that studying must’ve been worth it if you can find the problem that fast!” Sonic remarked, pushing off from the metal plating and strolling around to where Porker was.

“It’s a relatively simple issue too, thank goodness,” his friend continued, “there’s a hole in the main conduit for the pressurized air. In the long term, this pipe should really be replaced, but for now, I think a simple patch job will suffice.”

“What, and you just happen to have ‘pipe patcher’ on ya at all times?” Sonic asked, snickering slightly. “You go to dinner at someone’s house and think ‘oh no, better not leave my pipe patches at home’?”

Porker’s sigh echoed in the machine’s chamber. “It’s really not all that special, all I’m using is duct tape. So long as it makes a proper seal—which I’m being careful to do now—it should hold well enough for us to go back and get a proper replacement. And duct tape is an essential part of any engineer’s toolkit, especially when they’re going to do some engineering work. Which is exactly what we came down here to do.”

“We?” the hedgehog asked. “S’far as I can see, you’re the one doing all the fix-it jobs around here, I’m just tagging along to clear out badniks and have a good time. Wouldn’t wanna be inside that thingamajig anyway, you can barely even move in there!”

Porker made a movement that seemed to suggest a shrug. “It’s really not that bad,” he said, beginning to extricate himself from the mess of machinery. “I honestly find it quite comfortable—though I must admit there have been a couple of times when the sentries didn’t think to warn me politely before tapping me…I earned myself quite a few bruises before they learned not to do that.” Now fully outside, he shook his head with a slightly tired smile. “At least they apologized afterwards, I suppose.”

“Aw, man, I wish I’d been there! I would’ve paid good money to see that!” Sonic clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, grinning good-naturedly. “So, we gotta head back and grab that piece, yeah?”

Porker nodded in agreement. “Yes, we do, but first—”

But by the time the word “yes” had left his mouth, Sonic was already in the tube.

“Aw yeah!” he whooped to himself, rocketing upwards at a breathtaking speed. “This is the good stuff!”

Suddenly, however, he noticed that his speed was…beginning to slow down. He frowned. The zoom tubes normally didn’t do that at all, instead letting him blast out at full speed. This wasn’t a new problem Porker would have to fix, was it?

Sonic felt his quills begin to raise as he continued to decelerate, scraping uselessly against the near-frictionless surfaces of the inside of the tubes. The air grew weaker and weaker, struggling to push him up a vertical passage, and the Hero of Mobius felt a cold chill settle in his stomach. 

He curled up just a little tighter, trying to use the movement to regain even a fraction of forward momentum, and that was enough to get him through the bend onto a horizontal plane, but then—

—he stopped moving.

Entirely.

Sonic the Hedgehog, the fastest thing on Mobius, could no longer move.

~~~

Porker Lewis, on the other hand, was running as quickly as he possibly could.

He’d wanted to warn Sonic that he needed to check the air pressure first, make sure everything was at least moderately in working order before he let his friend give the zoom tubes a test run, but while Sonic’s thoughts moved much faster than his own, that didn’t necessarily mean he had a greater amount of caution. Now, Porker had no idea where Sonic was, nor whether he’d even made it out of the tubes at all.

Still, the engineer pushed himself to follow the path upwards, in spite of the increasing difficulty he met with as he climbed. More precarious platforms, more obstacles, and wider gaps had to be dealt with, slowing Porker down as he struggled to navigate, but he refused to let the tube out of his sight. He had to be coming to a bend or junction soon at this rate…

And then, he saw it. The tube made a right angle, running along the ceiling of the Hydrocity Zone, and within it, just visible through the glass paneling, was a ball of blue.

Quickly, Porker scanned the area. The panel was held in place by a frame, which could be easily removed with his screwdriver, but getting to the tube in the first place would be rather more difficult. Further examination revealed that there were small crevices and ledges on the wall adjacent to it that he could use to climb up, but staying in position without falling and injuring himself would be complicated, especially since he would essentially need to turn around while on the wall to properly remove the paneling. 

Still, it was the best he could do, given the situation. Removing the screwdriver from his tool belt and holding it in his mouth, Porker began to clamber up the side of the rock wall, moving as quickly as he could without putting himself in danger. He would be no use at all to Sonic with a broken leg, of course.

Speaking of him—“Sonic! I’m going to unscrew the paneling! You’ll be out shortly!” Porker shouted, forcing his voice as loud as it could possibly go.

If his friend replied, the engineer couldn't hear it. Nerves gripped his heart as he forced himself to climb faster, reaching the top soon after. Now came the difficult part; he braced himself with a hand against the pipe, before carefully shuffling his feet in a manner that would allow him to turn around and press his back against the rock wall.

The only thing keeping him from falling now was the strength of his arm as he pushed against the tube.

Carefully, Porker began to unscrew the frame bit by bit, wiggling the screws out of their housing one by one and letting them drop to the floor. After the third screw, his supporting arm began to tremble, but he refused to let it falter. Not when Sonic was counting on him.

The fourth screw dropped. At first, the frame refused to move, but a good whack with the screwdriver fixed that—followed by a sudden flinch from Porker as the glass panel dropped and shattered on the ground below.

“Good heavens, that’ll be quite the repair job…” he muttered to himself, before recalling exactly what the situation was at the moment.

“Sonic? Sonic, can you hear me?” he called, craning his neck in an effort to get a better look at the insides of the tube. He could see the ball of blue spines pretty well, actually, but something wasn’t quite right.

“…oh.” Porker murmured quietly.

Sonic was shaking.

He would have to get the hedgehog out all by himself, but how? He certainly couldn’t reach into the tube, not from this angle, and Sonic was clearly unable to move. The only thing he did seem capable of, as a matter of fact, was bristling his spines.

Wait. If Sonic had his spines raised, then that meant they could catch on something, yes? Porker began to hurriedly shrug off his jacket, only pausing to swap hands on the pipe once his screwdriver was back in his belt. Frowning in an effort to better gauge the distance, he swung the jacket back and forth once, twice, and then up into the tube—and thank goodness, at least one thing had gone right in this whole mess, when the cloth caught securely on Sonic’s spines.

Porker pulled as hard as he could, and for once the near-frictionless surface of the zoom tubes proved useful when his friend moved along with little resistance. Uncomfortably slowly, given the awkward angle, Sonic’s curled-up form slid further and further forward until finally, he slipped out of the opening.

What Porker had forgotten, however, was that Sonic had weight, and weight affected both balance and gravity.

What this meant, in practice, was that Porker very nearly wrenched his arm out of its socket fighting to keep them both from falling.

Even then, he didn’t succeed for very long, pitching forward and off the face of the wall soon afterwards. At the very least, his fall was more controlled, so that when he landed, he merely sprained his ankle instead of breaking it. (Happily, he was also able to avoid the shattered glass on the ground. Things would have gotten much more complicated if he hadn’t, and he was already about at his limit for complications.)

He ought to be thankful for small mercies, he supposed, because that at least meant the pain wasn’t so excruciating that he couldn’t check on his friend. 

“Sonic? Sonic, are you al—are you hurt?” he asked quickly, pulling himself along the ground towards the hero, who had uncurled and was now on his hands and knees, with his head hanging between his arms.

For a moment, Sonic didn’t respond at all, and Porker felt a pang shoot through him. Just a second later, though, the hedgehog sat up, raising an eyebrow at him cockily. “Am I hurt? You’re the one who can’t curl up into a ball here, I’m not the one you should be checking on.” 

“I wasn’t just talking about the fall. I meant before that, too.” Porker insisted, unwilling to let it go quite so easily.

“Tch, what, me getting stuck in the tube? Just don’t tell Knucklehead, he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Porker felt his stomach turn uncomfortably. He really, really didn’t want to push this, but the thought of Sonic pretending that nothing had happened sat even worse with him. Shakily, he inhaled once, then sighed, and felt his shoulders tense up as he prepared to speak again.

“Sonic.” Porker insisted. “I saw you shaking with my own two eyes. I can’t just let that go.”

“What, me? Shaking?” Sonic scoffed. “You of all people should know that the Hero of Mobius doesn’t shake, pal.”

The engineer frowned…and then abruptly his expression softened, as something that Sonic had just said caught his attention. “No, I get it. The Hero of Mobius doesn’t shake, you’re right. But, well, my old friend Sonic, from way back in Green Hill…he’s allowed to get scared in front of me, I think. Whether or not he thinks he should.”

“Uh, you sure you didn’t hit your head in that fall, Lewis?” Sonic asked, now the one to squint over at his friend in confusion. “In case you forgot, this speedy blue hedgehog—y’know, the one called Sonic—is the Hero of Mobius.” He jabbed a thumb at his chest for emphasis.

Porker took another deep breath subtly, trying his best to keep from getting exasperated. “That’s true. But being the Hero of Mobius is a job, and being Sonic just…is. You’re Sonic all the time, but you’re only the Hero of Mobius when you want to be. And you don’t have to be in front of me.”

“You sure about that one? ‘Cause last I checked, only one of us was up to being a hero.” Sonic shot back.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he froze, his eyes widening slightly and his teeth snapping together so hard they clicked in the suddenly heavy silence.

“Porker—we can—just forget that happened, ‘kay? Apparently my mouth moves as fast as the rest of me sometimes, heh.” 

Porker gave Sonic a surprisingly flat look, making the hedgehog’s poor attempt at humor fizzle out into nothingness. His grin twisted into a grimace, and his hands balled into fists on the floor as he avoided Porker’s eyes.

Well, at least now he’s hiding his emotions less, the former Freedom Fighter thought to himself, internally sighing.

“Sonic.” he said softly, and while his friend didn’t flinch, his fingers did tighten noticeably.

“I’m not upset. Or—well—I am, but not at you. I just don’t like that you feel you have to be a hero around me all the time. I know we were fighting Robotnik for so long, it’s kind of hard to be anything else…but before that, we were just friends, stumbling our way through life together.”

Porker sighed, allowing himself a bittersweet smile. “I’d like to go back to being that way, at least to some extent, now that the war is over.” He hesitated briefly, before continuing, “If you don’t want to though, for whatever reason, I’ll understand.”

Sonic laughed, but his eyes were too wide for it to seem genuine. “Hey, what? Of course we’re friends, there’s no way I’d wanna change that! Why on Mobius would you ever think I would?”

“It’s…difficult to explain.” Porker began, picking up a chunk of debris and worrying circles into it with his thumb. “Sometimes it feels like when you look at me, you’re seeing just another civilian to protect, instead of, well, me.”

“Well, that’s not it at all!” Sonic straightened up boldly. “It’s totally different—I’m just making sure you don’t have to deal with the difficult stuff anymore after we—after you, y’know, got stuck on, uh, Little Planet.”

“Sonic, just because I was too stressed out to continue fighting in a war doesn’t mean I’m too distraught to live my life, or to help my friends when they could use a hand!” the engineer explained. “Besides, living here on the Floating Island has done wonders for me, I’d say.”

Sonic had sported a strangely skeptical expression for the first part, but when he finally spoke up, it wasn’t in response to that at all. “Was it really good enough for you that you were able to handle Robotnik?” he asked, frowning genuinely.

Porker stared blankly at his friend for a few moments as several things suddenly slotted into place. “Is that what you meant when you asked me how I was able to cuff him earlier?”

Sonic’s sudden eagerness to look away and shift positions, combined with a short “Eh, it’s whatever. Never mind.” told him all he needed to know.

He bit back his first instinct, which was to get upset that Sonic essentially seemed to view him as an invalid, no longer capable of functioning in the face of difficult situations. Getting upset wouldn’t help here—he’d known Sonic long enough to be certain that if he got angry, Sonic’s temper would flare up to match. Instead, he struggled to work out how best to explain his current situation to his friend. 

Porker knew that Sonic had gone through a difficult process when he’d decided to leave the Freedom Fighters, and had taken some time to come around to the fact that not everybody had his level of fortitude and resilience when it came to coping with difficult situations. However, it seemed like Sonic had understood Porker’s choice to leave as a permanent “off” switch on his abilities, instead of the truth, which was that the scales of “desire for freedom” and “fear of lasting damage” had simply tipped in the other direction, without any weight being removed from the former.

Suddenly, he was jolted from his musings by the voice of the hedgehog in question. “Listen, how about we head back to Hidden Palace and grab whatever parts you need? That way you can show me around some more, yeah?”

Slowly but surely, Porker got to his feet, sighing tiredly and trying not to wince at a twinge from his ankle. “Hang on, I just wanted to explain one thing first. You mind if I talk your ear off for just a moment?” He shot Sonic a half-smile, and that seemed to do the trick.

“Sure thing, pal. Hit me.” he replied carefully, moving to lean against the wall.

“I may have assumed this was more obvious than it actually was, but…I was always scared. Even when you first asked me to join the Freedom Fighters, I was frightened as anything.” Porker began, cringing internally as Sonic tensed up once again. “But the thing was,” he hurried to add, “I believed in the better future you talked about more than I felt afraid. So I pushed myself to join because I wanted to help make a world where people like me didn’t have to be so scared all the time, and that was enough to keep me going.

“But then…when I was held on Little Planet for so long…” Porker trailed off, memories of wire biting into his arms and endless examinations flashing before his eyes briefly. He blinked rapidly and squeezed the rock in his hand tighter in an effort to dispel the images—only to look up into an expression on Sonic that was emptier than any he’d ever seen before.

The engineer sighed and shook his head, smiling ruefully. “After that, I was so worried about it happening again that I couldn’t contribute to the team like I wanted, and, well, you know the rest.” He paused for a moment, composing his next sentence in his head. “I think there was one thing I should’ve said to you back then, but didn’t, because I thought it was obvious.”

“Yeah?” Sonic’s voice was perfectly measured, perfectly even.

“I don’t blame you for what happened. I don’t even see how I could—I knew the risks, I knew Mobius had to be kept safe, and I made my choice. I mean, in the end, it all worked out too. If that was really what had to happen to start the chain of events that led to the Empire of Metallix being defeated, then I can’t even say I regret it.”

“Porker.” Sonic marched over, staring at him with narrowed eyes. “Now I know for a fact you hit your head in that fall. Either that or I need to get my ears checked, because I know I didn’t just hear you say you’re okay with the fact that we all left you there.”

“What else am I supposed to say?” he asked, genuinely. “We were in a difficult situation, not to mention a dangerous profession. Awkward choices and bad experiences were bound to happen eventually. All things considered, I escaped without any serious physical damage and got the space I needed to work on healing mentally. Things could have gone a whole lot worse—”

“But they also could’ve gone better!” Sonic barked. “We left you there! We all could’ve gone back with you, fought off the Metallix together!”

“And left the planet defenseless against Robotnik? That would’ve been terribly dangerous.” Porker forced himself to keep his posture open, hoping that having something else to focus on would help him feel less stunned that his friend was on the verge of yelling at him. “Besides, it’s equally possible that the Metallix would have overpowered us all, seeing as we’d be stuck there for a month, and then who would have saved us from them?”

“What, so are you telling me you’re fine with the way things turned out?” the hedgehog snapped.

“Yes and no,” Porker replied, hating how stiff his voice had become, but unable to search for any better words, “I certainly would have preferred to not be trapped on Little Planet for a month, but since I was, and we were able to destroy the empire that I was stuck with, I don’t really have anything left to be angry about. I may be upset that it happened to me, but I’ve decided that I don’t resent anyone for the way it happened.”

“Yeah? Well, good for you, but not all of us feel that way, y’know.” Sonic spat.

Porker hesitated for a moment. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what his friend meant, but he wanted to check something first.

“Are you upset with me for going back?”

“Wh—f—why would I be mad at you?” Sonic looked like he was about to explode, face twisted into a snarl. “It’s the Metallix’s fault, for being scummy enough to treat you like they did! It’s Robotnik’s fault, for making those machines in the first place, and for making a Mobius where there needed to be Freedom Fighters at all! And—and it’s on me for asking you to join the Freedom Fighters, because then this’d never have happened!”

The walls of Hydrocity Zone rang with the echo of Sonic’s outburst.

“…we’re done here.” the hedgehog muttered, turning away.

“N-n-no, we’re not.” Porker insisted, still gripping the rock, now so tightly that his hands shook. Sonic whipped around, his eyes hard, but Porker pushed onwards as quickly as he could. “S-Sonic, you couldn’t have possibly known this would happen. You may be a hero, but you’re not the Omni-Viewer—you can’t kn-know or do everything. And that’s fine!” he added, quickly, seeing Sonic’s quills begin to rise. “I don’t, I don’t expect you to, and anyone who does is being absurd, frankly. All you knew when you asked me to join was that Robotnik needed to be s-stopped, and that I was smart enough to help. And all you could—could do when I went back to Little Planet was make an impossible choice, and if you’re sorry that I got hurt, then I’m sorry I put you in a position to choose between me and everyone else.

“I don’t know if you really do r-regret asking me to join the Freedom Fighters—and if you do, I can try to understand why, but I have to inform you that I disagree whole-heartedly. You would n-not have survived fighting Robotnik on your own, you needed others by your side, and you were a big enough person to a-admit that in spite of the fact that I’m sure you would have preferred otherwise. If you regret asking me, then do you regret asking Johnny, or Tails? Do you regret bringing all of us into this? Because let me tell you, if I have to choose between a future where I am traumatized but alive, or a future where I never met the Metallix and you are gone, I would choose the former every time!”

Porker’s legs wobbled beneath him, and he lowered himself to the ground quickly, breathing hard and fast. “S-sorry, sorry for my harsh tone at the end there.” he apologized. “I didn’t m-mean to get so worked up.”

“…Porker.” Sonic said, no longer facing him, his voice strangely quiet in a way the engineer had never heard before. “You’re—right. About all of it. I’m glad you said yes when I asked you to join. Without you, we’d never have saved Kintobor, or gotten all the gadgets we needed to fight. It just, you know. Like you said. We were friends, but I was also the leader. That made your safety my responsibility. And you know me, I don’t like to, well. Lose. Heh.” He laughed humorlessly, even as his hands twitched and shifted with surprising intensity. “When you’re the Hero of Mobius, and you don’t save someone. Anyone. But especially a friend. It makes a guy wonder if he still gets to call himself a hero. If he still…has that friend. After he couldn’t keep him from getting permanently hurt. You know.”

“I think I do know.” Porker replied, almost instantly, needing to make sure Sonic knew that this opening up, no matter how stilted, was the right thing to do. “And I know that his friend has been with him for a while. His friend has seen him save people so many times, over and over again, even without a reward. So, quite frankly, if there was ever a time when he didn’t save someone, that friend would not doubt for a second that he didn’t wish things had gone differently. But,” he added, “this friend would also care about him a lot. And his friend would feel terrible if it seemed, for even a second, that a choice that the friend made was something he was using to make himself feel worse, whether he thought he deserved it or not. Because his friend is, well, his friend, right? So of course that friend wouldn’t want him to torture himself using the thought of what happened. 

“After all, he may be a hero—an incredible hero, even—but he can’t do everything, and like I said earlier, that's okay. That’s why the rest of us were there, to help him be able to do everything with our help. And sometimes that meant we were in danger, just like him. But that was okay, because there was no place we’d rather be than by his side, helping to make the world a better place.”

A single drop of water wet the stone by Sonic’s feet.

“There’s—” he croaked, before cutting himself off and abruptly clearing his throat. “There’s nobody I would rather have had with me.”

“I’m glad.” Porker smiled gently, and hoped it carried through in his voice.

“Ugh, first Super, now this—what is it with me and coming to visit you that makes bad things happen?” Sonic groaned, finally turning around once again (and the engineer elected not to notice how he was still working to compose himself).

“Well, in the very, very long run, that was a good thing too, considering that Super’s EMP blast was what enabled us to defeat Robotnik.” Porker said.

“Oh, so you’re not upset about that either?” Sonic asked, voice caught halfway between sarcastic and hesitant.

“Sonic!” the engineer huffed. “Super’s transformation process is completely involuntary! It may be frightening in the moment, but I would never, ever blame you for his actions!”

“…good to know.” Sonic said simply. “Speakin’ of which, I saw you two put up some better walls around the Emerald chamber, good to see we won’t have any more falling accidents.” He finally turned around, his arms folded and smirk back in place. “Don’t wanna find out what Super Porker is like or anything.”

“I hope seeing the Emerald chamber again wasn’t what bothered you earlier.” Porker’s brow furrowed in concern. “I didn’t even consider how it might be an unpleasant place to be…”

Sonic’s smirk lessened just a fraction. 

“You know, you’re always free to talk about it if you’d like.” Porker said, but when Sonic scoffed, he already knew it was a lost cause.

“Listen, I’ve had more than enough ‘talking about it’ for one visit.” Sonic rolled his eyes and did exaggerated air quotes, but…

…‘for one visit’ wasn’t ’for a lifetime’. Maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause after all.

Porker decided to take pity on his friend at last. “Would you like to head back to Hidden Palace now? You can bother Knuckles some more while I find the part I need to repair the zoom tubes.” 

“Finally!” Sonic exclaimed. “As much as I appreciate a good cave adventure every now and then, I’d rather be somewhere I can actually see the sun. Come on, let’s get moving.” He began to walk back towards the entrance, making Porker hesitate and frown over at him.

“…you’re not going to scout on ahead again?”

Sonic looked over at him, surprise registering for the briefest of seconds before he relaxed, his usual smirk returning—albeit somewhat crookedly. “Nah. If any badniks haven’t learned their lesson by now, we can handle ‘em.”

Porker could feel himself smiling wider than he had all day, enough so that Sonic seemed to notice. “Shut your trap, pixel-brain.” he grumbled, folding his arms. “Haven’t we had enough sappy nonsense already?”

“Fair enough,” Porker admitted. “So, how’s the rebuilding process going back in Emerald Hill?”

“The new town’s looking better every day!” Sonic’s grin returned in full force. “It’s gonna be much more defensible, but it’s also just way better quality and more sturdy than before.”

“That’s fantastic.” Porker said, suddenly feeling as though a weight he hadn’t even noticed had been lifted off his chest. “As much as the hillfolk have appreciated Knuckles’s hospitality, they seem eager to get home.”

“It’ll be good to have them back.” Sonic sighed. “Seeing the world start to live a post-Robotnik life sure is something, huh?”

“It really is. Sometimes I wondered if we’d be fighting for the rest of our lives,” Porker smiled ruefully. “But I’m so happy that isn’t the case.”

They walked together in silence for about half a minute, giving them both time to admire the water flowing through the caverns and the massive pillars helping to keep it all stable. The fact that the colors on the pillars hadn’t faded after all this time was fascinating to Porker, and he was beginning to think back on the papers Knuckles had gotten from that pirate fellow—

Sonic abruptly dragged his hands down his face and groaned. “Now you’ve gone and done it! Why’d you have to bring up Super in the first place, now I can’t stop thinking about him!”

“Technically, you brought him up.” Porker corrected him, before smiling sheepishly when Sonic shot him a glower (without any heat behind it, of course).

“Listen, it’s just—something about falling into the Emerald chamber made him way worse than usual. I don’t know all of it, but lemme tell ya…” He trailed off, staring into the middle distance.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Porker said softly, wishing he could give his friend a hand on his shoulder or a hug, but that wouldn’t help someone like Sonic. Instead, he jammed his hands in his pockets, kept walking, and waited.

“Ugh…waking up in the wreckage of our plane with the others nowhere in sight…fire everywhere…feeling myself laughing without knowing why…it’s good he’s gone, ‘cause I’m never about to see something like that again.” Sonic spat, forcing the tremor from his voice.

Porker felt his stomach turn. “Nobody told me about that! I can’t imagine how that must have felt, being amongst all that devastation without knowing what had happened!”

“They didn’t even tell me they were alive for days.” Sonic muttered, his shoulders hunched. “Super was still an issue, I know why they didn’t, but they left me thinkin’ I’d—! For days!” Suddenly, he kicked a rock with such speed and violence it shattered on impact.

Sonic clenched his fists, stopping in his tracks in an attempt to catch his breath. Porker shifted a little closer to him, worrying the fabric of his gloves with his fingers. “I’m sorry that happened. I’m guessing you haven’t mentioned this to any of them?”

“Why would I?” Sonic scoffed. “It worked, didn’t it? They fixed the problem.”

Porker opened his mouth—then hesitated—then sighed gently. “Well. I can see why they might have done that, but I don’t necessarily think it was the perfect solution. And if you ever want to talk about it more…I’m here. As your friend.”

“…you meant what you said earlier, right?”

“Hmm?” Porker blinked. “I said a lot of things earlier, I’m afraid you’ll have to remind me.”

“About…not blamin’ me for the stuff he does.” Sonic muttered, clearly embarrassed.

“Of course I did!” he insisted. “And I’ll say it as many times as you need! I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you. I don’t—” 

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Sonic snickered, shoving Porker lightly. “Save your breath for all these stairs, we gotta climb them to get back up to that knucklehead.”

“Oh, good heavens.” Porker sighed, eyeing up the spiral staircase warily.

Sonic rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk softening just a fraction. “Forget it, Porker, just grab on tight.”

Seconds later, they were back in the main room of the Hidden Palace.

The engineer pulled his wrist from Sonic’s grip, stumbling over to the nearest control panel and slumping into a seat. “I will never be used to that,” he wheezed, chuckling lightly.

“Sonic, you’d better not have broken my best engineer!” Knuckles barked, stomping over to the two of them.

“Isn’t he also your only engineer?” Sonic shot back.

“All the more reason not to drag him along when you decide to have a run around!” the echidna insisted.

“Knuckles?” Porker called, interrupting the two’s bickering. He had removed one of his shoes—but not his sock, obviously—and was bandaging up his sore ankle. Both of the others seemed concerned, but when he smiled reassuringly, they both trusted him enough to back off. “Oh yeah, just turned my ankle, nothing major. Anyhow, do you know where the replacement air conduits are? We found the break, but my temporary fix wasn’t much of a fix at all.”

“Drawer 14B.” he replied, already heading off in that direction. “I’ll get it for you if you keep this prickly tank of hot air out of my face some more. Take him to Mushroom Hill or something, have him play with the toddlers a bit to burn off that energy.”

Sonic huffed, tapping his foot rapidly. “Hot air?! You come back here and say that to my face! C’mon, Porker, let’s leave the guardian to his sulking.”

The engineer laughed under his breath as he joined his friend once again. “You two could have a whole comedy show with that kind of banter.” he said warmly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Sonic rolled his eyes. “Now who needs help packing up?”

Porker did indeed proceed to show Sonic all around the Mushroom Hill Zone, and the two helped out where their skills were needed as the citizens of Emerald Hill prepared to return to their long-evacuated home. (As a matter of fact, Sonic sped up the process by at least half a day, which went greatly appreciated amongst everyone present.)

Once they had finished with that, Sonic admitted that he should probably head back soon, to make sure that the rebuilding process was still going well and that his other friends didn’t need him for anything urgent. Porker walked him back to the plane, the two chatting about memories new and old along the way. And just before Sonic hopped into the cockpit, he placed a hand on Porker’s shoulder—the only differences from last time being that Sonic was the one to leave via plane instead…and that Porker put his hand over Sonic’s for just the briefest of moments.

As the Hero of Mobius took off, he looked back for a second to see his old friend waving him off with a smile on his face, and he couldn’t help but feel pleased to know that he was welcome back whenever he felt like it. To his surprise, however, there was one other thing he noticed—or rather, the absence of something.

This time, when he had settled into his plane and prepared for takeoff, the memories of Super hadn’t been there. Even now that he noticed it, even though he could still remember the fire, now, there was also…

“I don’t blame you.”

And wasn’t that just something else?

[ggitty]

(Same anon) As someone who's been in multiple fandoms for years, art-styles that are semi-similar or are extremely different from the source material pretty much comes with the package. It can be very fun at times. (Franchises with very simplistic designs seem more prone to it)

That's something I've noticed with fandom when it comes *CG series, unless there's 2D content or some concept art floating around somewhere, fans seem to have a harder time translating the characters into drawings. (With Jimmy, it's mainly just him you can find this stuff on. The rest of the cast you kinda have to wing it. For such a big show, character refs is surprisingly scarce. And some promo stuff being lost to time.)

*nods* Yeah, crossovers can be cool. Nick and CN had plenty of official bumpers that was just characters mingling with each other outside of shows. (But when it comes down to the shows individually, Jimmy unfortunately has been holding the short{hehe} end of the stick for quite a while now if we're talking just the OG Unite gang. Both official and fan stuff. Planet Sheen left a big sour taste.)

(*Probably why I'm adamant that if the show ever came back, I rather it stayed CG. Not because I think 2D would be bad or an ironic twist that the 3D show comes back in 2D while its sister 2D show{FOP} had came back in 3D, but the sheer fact that it was Jimmy's identity. The fact that people were blown away by the animation from that one car commercial that came out a year after the show ended, imagine what they can do now without the technological limitations.)

Ah yes, classic fandom meme “Original artstyle: 0.0 Fanart: *damn Rembrandt ass painting*" Not gonna lie, I'm a huge fan of this, give me two and don't forget the cheese sauce!

But yes, this show has some incredible amount of content that can be considered almost lost media of a kind. The huge amount of official fanfiction promotional materials, comics, illustrated books and other things released on the prime of the series is almost impossible to find completely on the Internet. I still occasionally dive into the Internet archive or through old forums to see if I can find a new one piece lol

Yeah, I can kind of see it. If I recall the 3D show fandoms I've encountered, they all really either have official 2D concepts that influenced general "fandom art style", or a huge fan base that chews it up for you *cough* Miraculous *cough* and you don't have to think about it much because you get it ready on a plate from more skilled people in this regard lol

It's not a stick anymore, it's almost a broken twig “No.. No Not You Seamus” (this franchise is like a middle child who was abandoned in the mall as soon as he turned 18 and their parents have already replaced the locks in the 3 hours they were walking home)

Oh Planet Sheen... 🚬... I haven't heard this name for a while...

The only good thing I got out of it was the headcanon that it was a Sheen's self-insert fanfic, because if you say that Sheen didn't make a poorly written self-insert fanfics you're lying to yourself lol (I like to joke that the failure of Planet Sheen scared Nick's tops so much that they hid everything related to the show in a separate room in the office and it haunts the CEO like a cryptid lol)

Although the story behind its creation is kind of sad, because it was never meant to be like this, not even being part of JN, and was just forced into one mass of a show. (didn't even allow them to add Carl, so they had to use an artificial substitute, for me, is telling something)

I damn sure agree with you!! And this is coming from a person who loves 2D animation much more than 3D lol (although I also love stylized 3D, it's such a blend of different dimensions that I just drown in it) I don't know if anyone would like to go a little more in the stylized 3D direction, mostly because I have no idea what it would look like in my 2D brain lol, but I'd be interested to see it

BUT I will always be more worried not so much about the style of animation as about who will be responsible for this animation. Because we can get both Trollhunters and Miraculous post S1, it's a gamble of budget and effort lol

[hiveworks]

OBELISK - Interview with Ashley McCammon

September 2023

The year is 1908. Evelyn Reuter is dealing with the affairs of her deceased father in her hometown of Manhattan. While she takes solace in the homes of her queer friends, grief presses in around her until one day... the mysterious Margot appears in her life.

Obelisk is a 16+ gothic horror/romance comic about vampires and lesbianism. In celebration of Obelisk's return from hiatus, we asked author Ashley McCammon @draculings for an interview.

What was the spark behind making Obelisk? Why a webcomic versus another style of publishing (print, self pub, etc.)?

My original inspiration for Obelisk was in my frustration with lesbian vampire movies - there are so many of them, and none made for a lesbian audience, let alone involving butch women! I wanted to tell that story, and celebrate that point of view. It’s similar to why I chose to set the comic in 1908 - the early 1900s are something of a transitional period, something not explored often when we aren’t talking WWI or the Titanic. I wanted to tell a story about the radical change happening in just a few, unusual people’s lives, in this transitory period. As for it being a webcomic - as a young artist, I always wanted to make one! It’s such an accessible, experimental way to tell a story, where even the website can be part of the atmosphere. Making a deeply atmospheric, spooky comic, that feels the most fitting.

For new readers, how would you describe your two lead women?

Evelyn is muscling through her day to day when we meet her - she’s putting on a brave face, or one that she hopes exudes confidence - but really feels like she has no idea what she’s doing. (The impostor syndrome is incredibly strong - something I think a lot of people can understand!) She’s been left with this enormous responsibility on top of the grief of losing her dad, and having that job and security is pressed on her as something she should be grateful for. She’s absorbed that idea and really hasn’t taken a moment to breathe - or to consider what she really wants for herself. Margot is quite the opposite - she’s a vampire who lives only for her own desires, a hedonist who’s been floating through existence that way for as long as she can remember. For all of her self indulgence though, she’s never connected much with anyone. She holds herself far above people, only ever showing them this facade of a regular person. It’s very arrogant - but it must also be very lonely! (Not that she has anyone to admit that to… yet ;)   )

What can you tell us about what's lurking for Evelyn in the upcoming chapter?

Evelyn makes a very bold choice at the end of chapter two, one that scares her - putting her own desires first, impulsively, in a way that will change everything and surprise even Margot herself. (Patrons read way ahead and will get to see this very soon, and the time she spends with Margot throughout chapter 3 as a result!)

Obelisk is a traditionally inked piece, with some digital final touches. What guided your decision to make this a traditional comic versus a digital one?

It really wasn’t a choice, to be honest - traditional media is where all my passion for making art lives! Obelisk is drawn and inked traditionally, and finished with Copic markers and the occasional paint pen or colored pencil for that killer red highlight ;)

What are some of the challenges in working this way? What do you find rewarding?

It can be tedious to scan, piece together and clean up my pages, but ultimately I have a fairly streamlined process for it and I don’t mind. I love having a physical final product to look at and hold when I’m done with it, it gives me a sense of accomplishment and connection to my work!

Do you have any tips for other comic artists on resuming a series after an extended hiatus?

Put your health first, and spend time reconnecting to your story before diving back in. It’s easy to feel obligated by the hamster wheel of social media and garnering attention, but your own connection to your work in the long-term is what matters most. Obelisk wouldn’t be the same story if I hadn’t had that downtime, and it’s off better for it!

What are some comics that inspire you? Do you have any reading recommendations for fans of Obelisk?

As far as webcomics go, I’m a big fan of Tiger Tiger, Hemlock, Barbarous, and Heirs of the Veil!

What is the best way for fans of Obelisk to support you?

The very best way is through my Patreon! Patrons have immediate access to the next six months of Obelisk pages (that’s my whole buffer!) as well as tons of behind the scenes work as I develop the next chapter and share work-in-progress shots right from my drawing table.

Obelisk updates Wednesdays and can be read for free at obeliskcomic.com 🩸Be sure to white list the site on your ad blocker and follow @draculings for more info and updates!

[seaquestions]

got any plans for your hockey guys? comic? writing? just drawing them sometimes? :0 love elias btw 10/10 kind of guy

welll ive been writing out blake’s rookie season and i got like 9.7k words so far, although im like, barely in chapter two of my outline so. that’s something! we’ll see where my inspiration takes me, though, mostly ill just be drawing whatever. i doubt i’ll ever make it into a comic or anything. im just not built for that lol.

i do have the idea floating around in my head of making it like… a real time fake season or something… like, make a tumblr and post abt games and write fake articles and interviews and screenshots of games as if they were real. (as if i was Actually their socmed manager lol) like a blaseball thing. wouldn’t that be fun? it’s a lot of work though haha so i dont think that’s happening like, forreal. would be fun to play in that space here and there w/o fully committing to a whole season.