#it is the only drawing I’ve been able to produce in a LONG time

[beetl-burgur]

I did a screenshot Redraw of Angstrom and Canasta (a friend and my lamb ocs) and I’m still surprised with how this came out

[arolesbianism]

Finallly got around to properly designing Demonstrator! She’s silly

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard

*COD medieval au - Simon Riley x reader

cw: arranged marriage, dark themes, attempted sa & non-graphic sa but pls *read at your own discretion*, gore/violence, sexual themes, etc.

word count: 1.1k

“Again.”

You can’t help but to flinch at the sound of swords being drawn; it rings in your ears, echos in the recesses of your brain. The piercing, metallic clangs resound throughout the room-

How long had you been here, anyway? Judging from the sunlight that peers through the high transom windows, its golden rays giving the great hall an ethereal sort of glow, it must be nearing time for dinner-

“I’ve seen enough, thank you.”

With a dismissive wave, you rise from the bronze throne and turn on your heel, eyes focused straight ahead, fixated on the intricate carvings in the doors, your escape just within reach-

“Your Grace..”

General Leon’s voice is laced with exasperation and warning, and your long history with him is the only reason you halt, your handmaid nearly bumping into you as you turn again- the young woman struggling to rearrange the ridiculous train on your gown as the man speaks,

“You cannot continue on without a Queen’s Guard- His Grace demands the position be filled.”

Oh, of course. How thoughtful of your kind husband. The husband who only sees you when the physicians deem you fertile enough to produce an heir. The husband who you’re not even sure could pick your face in a crowd because he only ever fucks you from behind, your face pushed down into the animal furs beneath you.

The husband who killed your last guard, gods rest his soul.

Yes, I’m sure he’s very concerned for my safety..

You give a heavy sigh, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you feel the placating smile tug at your lips; the one you’re so, so good at. The practiced smile that puts everyone in the room at ease, the one you’ve perfected in your relatively short existence of being groomed for this very life.

The life everyone dreams of, a life of royalty, of the highest privilege and power- how little they truly know.

“Of course, please, let us meet the next one then.”

Taking your place upon the throne once again, you sit properly, prim and demure, just like you were taught. The very picture of perfection in your emerald colored silks, not a single hair out of place-

Yet, inside, you were wasting away, your thoughts boiling and raging, your anger smoldering just under the surface, like a vein of coal in the earth that’s been lit aflame- the embers never dying, but never able to turn into the inferno they so wishe to be.

You don’t bother to spare your gaze when the doors open with a low groan, the quiet footfalls that enter the space only really given away by the shifting of chainmail and armor.

They’re confident strides, you notice- long and steady, and without even seeing him yet, you can feel the energy shift around you, his presence seeming to fill every available void,

“Ser Simon Riley, Your Grace.”

With one look, you’re utterly struck by the imposing man walking towards you- shoulders and hips swaying with each deliberate step, left hand resting lazily on the hilt of his long-sword.

His armor plates are dark, obsidian in hue, so different from the usual flashy silver you see everywhere you look. He is a looming shadow in front of you, somehow as wide as he is tall, if that were possible- and his eyes. The skin around them have been smudged with kohl, making the mottled amber of his irises look preternatural, his unmoving gaze entirely focused on you, even when he bows,

“Your Majesty.”

Your mind screams danger, much like it would if a fully grown wolf had just sauntered through the doors, looking for its next meal- and yet, for as much fear as he inspires, there’s something that draws you in- like a siren singing to sailors lost at sea.

Returning his gesture, you gently nod, holding his eyes until the General calls him back to assume a fighting stance; and even then, you swear you see his head tilt just so, just enough to flash you an arrogant look as the guard takes his place across from him. Ser Simon must easily stand a head and a half taller than the other man, you think, his figure even more impressive than it was before.

The men exchange nods before drawing swords, their dance beginning the same as all the others, assessing and calculating each other until the guard makes the first move-

The heavy whoosh of his blade is dodged with little effort, the giant wraith of a man moving far faster than any of you expected. He gracefully ducks under the other’s still outstretched arm, placing himself in the perfect position to swing his own sword towards his opponent's exposed neck- a maneuver surely meant to behead if this were anything other than a mock duel.

“Reset-”

“No.” You stand abruptly, stepping down from the throne much to your own surprise, “Ser Simon, what experience do you have as a Royal Guard?”

“Your Grace, this is-”

With a raised hand, you quiet the General, watching the mysterious knight sheath his sword once more, bowing again as he faces you,

“None, Your Majesty.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“What experience do you have then?”

His head tilts to the side, and you watch the other guards tense when he takes a single step closer, those damned eyes gleaming down at you with a hunger you’ve never quite seen before,

“Battle, Your Grace. I’ve seen far more than most.”

This time, it’s you moving towards him, and when you step closer, the Kingsguard follows suit, though it seems nothing goes unnoticed by the towering specter.

“Well, Ser, I do not go into battle.. You might be better suited for my husband’s army, no?”

You watch the very corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, his gaze narrowing in amusement, and you’re positive you would see a devilish smile on his lips if he removed the helmet,

“I might.” He says flippantly, broad shoulders shrugging as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “But, I came here to serve you, My Queen.”

A deep and burning chill blooms in your core at his words and the resolute way he says them; it lights every nerve on fire, every cell and molecule, every atom in your being vibrating at a frequency you’ve never felt as the title rolls off his gilded tongue.

No, you’ve never met a man quite like this, and part of you questions if he truly is just a man at all- because no man has ever felt like this, no man has ever been able to pick you apart so quickly, make you feel bare with just his gaze alone.

He terrifies you as much as he excites you, and oh, how you’ve longed to feel something other than loathing, and boredom.

There is nothing practiced or placating about the smirk on your lips now as you nod toward your General, your handmaid once again adjusting the cumbersome fabric of your gown as you move forward-

“Well, you’ve gotten your wish, Ser Simon.” You coo as you breeze past him without a parting glance, “General Leon, make sure my guard is taken to his new quarters, will you?”

They fall into a sweeping bow as you exit, a quiet acknowledgement being the last thing you hear before the deep pulsing of your own heartbeat fills your ears.

What in the seven hells have I done..

[chapter 2 >>>]

[scummy-writes]

Perverse Pleasures

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2814

Pairing: Chevalier/Melinda(Oc)

Content Tags: A/B/O Dynamics (light), masturbation, pov switch (first person , chev, to second person for both) , caught in the act, nesting, Chev is in heat, fingering, cum tasting, first times, PIV, cumming inside

Summary: It's unusual for Chevalier to let his bodily needs overcome him in such a way. He relents, using Melinda's clothes as a masturbatory aid due to her scent making his body heat flare. Meanwhile, he neglects to realize his door isn't locked...

(A fanfic for @dododrawsstuff!! Thank you!!)

It was somewhat of a rarity to look down upon myself, and yet tonight I was in such a position once again with a huff of disbelief. Not only had I managed to lose control over my body in such a perverse way, but it further instilled unsavory habits I had no wishes to keep.

My eyes ran over the scattered articles of clothing I had filched like a common thief - no, pervert - and felt another long sigh escape me. Years of the same routine, and yet the arrival of a mere woman managed to skew my world in ways I had never accounted for. While she was interesting by her own right, the growing disarray of my senses caused a build up of frustrations I was annoyed to admit.

I knew better than this, yet that incessant urge inside of me that medicine could no longer subside kept gaining control over my actions. At first, it was the shawl she had left behind at her second social gathering - the first time I had understood what her scent was doing to me. Another was one of her otherworldly jackets, with patterns that had yet to be seen through my own time. After amassing a small collection of shirts and similar, I had even been so daft as to betray my senses completely, and disgracefully filch an intimate item.

In a bed of my own making, I had gathered them all. ‘Nesting’; a foolish urge I had assumed I’d never go through. They were piled upon my sheets, surrounding myself with her damning and intoxicating scent. Just this was enough to stir base impulses - an aching cock that had plagued me through the day, now finally able to be satiated.

I’ve never been patient in these matters. Often, it was an urge I quickly satisfied to get it over with, finding little relief in the action past fulfilling a bodily need that presented itself at inopportune times.

The moment I fisted an article of clothing from the pile I had accrued, however, I found it difficult to ignore the desire to draw this out. It felt as though it were a need - a remnant of the beast inside me, perhaps needing to revel in its claim.

Palming my erection through my clothes sent shivers through my body, my breathing coming out a pace faster the further her scent clouded my senses. Within moments, I found myself nestled in her clothing, taking deep breaths as I toyed with the head of my cock. Compared to previous attempts, there was a shameful abundance of precum leaking from my tip. Beads of the liquid ran down my cock in heavy droplets, slipping between my fingers, slickening my grip. I would normally hate the sensation on my hands, but this drove me to smear it along my sensitive glands, teasing my frenulum by ghosting the pads of my fingers against the skin, producing a shudder through me.

It was… Intoxicating. Far greater than my expectations had imagined due to how dull masturbating had been previously. Pleasured sighs escaped my lips for the first time, a weight slipping from my shoulders as I relaxed into the mattress, cock twitching as I muttered her name. Ridiculous, but it fanned my desires; my hand stroking faster without a thought.

Perhaps that was how I managed to further make a fool of myself. In the midst of drawing the act out, partly due to the lust overtaking me, a small squeak of surprise stole my attention, causing a wash of various emotions to take over me.

Melinda had opened my door with a letter in hand - likely delivering it on the request of my foolish brother - making me aware that in my clouded haste that I had neglected to lock the damned thing, and now she stood shocked, becoming redder by the second.

Her apologies are endless. Each one stumbles over themselves just as often as her own feet did during her first dance. Even in such a state, I can’t help but find it endearing. To avoid making more of a mess, I roughly yank the sheet overtop of my lower half, frowning that it does little to cover the obvious, but it would do for now.

“Shut the door.”

“Right, of course-” she stepped back through the frame in an attempt to retreat, nearly dropping the letter in her haste.

“Inside.”

Melinda froze once more, but tentatively obeyed. Her eyes rolled over my form once more, lingering out of impulse more than succumbing to lechery. When she tore them away I found there was an urge to call her attention again, to have her focus on me. My body. The want of her showing clearly.

A ridiculous want, but overpowering nonetheless, for the next time I opened my mouth those were the first words to leave it.

“Look at me.”

Perhaps it was borne from frustration as well. Her meek nature wasn’t offputting, but when wanting her to look at me for more than the titles I bore, it brought forth a different form of ire. One satiated as she obeyed, and I could briefly see the lust we shared. She would have left if this wasn’t mutual, no?

However, I knew her too well. Even if she knew she was the cause of this state I found myself in, she would be quick to dismiss it as reality.

“You’re aware of what this is.”

A statement, one to get a clarifying answer on. Thankfully she nods, her voice stolen by surprise rather than a lack of reason. I shift, begrudgingly repositioning the sheet - my excitement had gathered upon it, making the sensation uncomfortable.

Melinda… Stares, before meeting my gaze. She isn’t quick to berate me, despite seeing how her clothes are nestled around me. Instead she takes in a shaking breath.

“You’re in heat.”

I continue to wait for her, finding it pointless to respond further.

“Chev, are you sure you want me in here? I-I know when an omeg- when someone is like this, that it’s easy to be taken advantage of, so-”

“I’m right of mind.” Her worry is pointless; as if I would be so out of mind as to invite random persons to taste my skin. Yet… I continue to let her clarify. Over and over, that my want for her is true.

She words it in various ways, so that guilt does not plague her. And at last her voice loses itself as the gears in her mind turn, overtaken by another shock- one I do not understand her possessing.

“You want… me?”

“You have ears, do you not?”

Why would I waste time spouting nonsense rather than the truth? She knows better, yet her own issues seem to take control as she grapples with them.

“But I’ve never done this before.”

“That is of no importance to me. I place more importance on your willingness.”

She looks at me, biting upon her bottom lip, and there is an urge that threatens to overtake me then and there. To have that same lip between my teeth, to distract her from whatever is holding her back from admitting her desires. I was no fool - even if I had never experienced ‘love’, it was easy to tell she harbored such affections for me.

Despite the neediness humming beneath my skin, I only extended my hand, reaching out to await hers. Once her hand carefully placed itself in my grasp, I felt a smirk tug the corners of my mouth for the first time tonight as I pulled her closer.

Never in her nights spent here had she expected to find herself in such a situation. Seeing Chevalier laid out in front of her, sprawled out in his bed and surrounded by clothes of hers that had gone missing… Initially, she had believed they were cruelly taken away by his fan club in jealousy. Instead, they were coveted by the icy prince who had managed to consistently warm her heart.

A fantasy of hers in private, yet when faced with it in reality, it took everything she had within her to accept his proposition. To take ahold of his hand, and allow herself to be lured in by her beast.

His movement was as firm as his grasp, and it caused her to stumble ungracefully onto the mattress, using her spare hand to steady herself on her knees. The motion causes creaking of the bed frame, but her eyes were impulsively drawn to the thin sheet haphazardly pulled over his crotch. There, she can see the blatant evidence that this isn’t a falsehood - Chevalier wanted her. So much so that he was tugging the cloth away, giving her full witness to his desires. If she still couldn’t believe his words, this left little to doubt.

Truly… She knew he wouldn’t lie over such a thing, but insecurities ran deeply with irrationality. A beast that had known her longer than Chevalier.

It’s difficult, but Mel settles her eyes on his; she’s greeted with a heat there she’s never bore witness to, and it causes her inner muscles to clench, her own cheeks burning a shade darker. That fire quells such anxious thoughts as he cups her cheek, drawing their lips together impatiently.

He isn’t as gentle as the knights in the books they shared. His movements are unaccustomed to such a thing - clumsy at moments, but ever so persistent in need. It’s enough for her to overlook due to being so enamored by the pleasured sigh of relief that leaves him. An unspoken finally.

Though he is the one naked, inexperienced just as she, he loses none of his confidence. Between kisses that grow more fervent, he guides her to lay against the mattress as her clothes are deftly discarded to lay with the rest, spreading her legs. His lips are nearly enough to steal her reason, but not just yet. She can feel his palms run up her inner thighs, hear his soft sighs when their lips part momentarily - her head spins with the new sensations, barely able to keep track of her anxieties following his heated touches. Impulsively, her hands try to interrupt his path. Just as smoothly, he grips her wrists, gathering both in one hand and pinning them above her head.

“I will remind you once more that I want to explore your body within my ability. That this ache within me is the product of my desire for you - no one else.” The words are growled in her ear, lust driving Chevalier to let his needs show past bodily reactions. As if to break the tension, or to aid in ridding some of his sexual frustration, he nips at the shell of her ear, “do not mistake my passion for instinct.”

Despite the warning in his words, he still waits. Meeting her gaze as she processes what was said. Even though her mind is attempting to balance her worries along with the flurry of her heart soaring, Melinda lets out the breath she held, spreading her legs wider to grant him unrestricted access to her core.

His eyes widen, just briefly, at the movement before he lets her wrists go, rewarding her with the taste of his lips once more. Tangling their tongues together as his fingers stroke along her vulva, the shudder it brings echoing between them. 

It may be her bais showing through her feelings for the man, but each touch feels electrifying. His thumb traces her clit teasingly; she can feel a smirk upon his lips when he manages to pull a needy whine from her, electing to kiss along her jawline as he graces her with more pressure against the bundle of nerves, drinking in the whimpers and gasps.

The sounds are no better. As he pushes a digit into her, then two, and begins to pump them inside, his labored breathing in her ear seems to just add to the swirls of pleasure riding through her. A soft groan leaving him at the sound of her own, the way his breath hitches as his hips jut against her thigh, rubbing himself against her like a dog in heat.

All of that combined with the fact that her first time is with Chevalier, the man who captured her heart faster than anyone else, the peak of it all hits far faster than she expected. Displaying itself through a desperate cry of his name, her grip on his shoulders tight and unforgiving as she grinds against his palm through her orgasm, shaking when he continues to thrust his fingers well past the initial high.

As she recovers, panting as her body slowly relaxes back against the sheets, Chevalier pulls his fingers out and regards her excitement splayed between them. For a moment, he seems entranced by the arousal decorating his hand. Lips parted slightly as he observes, then tentatively takes a lap at the fluid.

At the taste, he closes his eyes with a sigh, savoring the flavor and smell, before his gaze is drawn back to her watery one.

“I can no longer hold myself back.”

“That’s fi- oh!”

In no time, Chevalier has barely given her time to recover before he slips between her legs, positioning her securely before he guides his cock to press against her swollen lower lips. He slides the tip along her vulva, mixing their arousal together for ample lubrication, before he eases the head inside of her. 

It’s difficult for her to breathe through it. Not due to an abundance of pain, but rather over being fulfilled so intimately. He isn’t careless or crass - even with his brows furrowed in impatience in wanting to overindulge, he grips her hips tightly as he inches inside of her, biting back a groan when he sinks in to the hilt.

His nails dig into her skin as he slowly exhales, face pressed against her neck, soaking in how her inner muscles clench around his length, enticing him to lose his reason completely. The promise of the pleasure he seeks is enough to keep his composure, nibbling her heated skin as strained words leave him, “ready?”

Melinda nods, breath held in preparation of the first thrust, then second- and soon she’s able to breathe with ease as he sets a steady and firm pace. He drives into her with withheld determination finally showing, each push inside of her increasing in intensity until he’s no longer able to hide his exertion, panting as he mutters to her. Growls of how it's her alone that has reduced him to such a state- that his mind is unable to think of anything past her. Her taste, her musk, the pleas of his name that he wishes to pry from her bashful lips. It’s nearly incomprehensible to imagine Chevalier impacted in such a way, but Melinda bears witness to it as he drives into her, again and again, until her second climax washes over her with a cry for him.

Even when losing control of himself in ways he is unused to, Chevalier still manages to hold onto his beauty. His gasps melt into her skin as he thrusts within her as deep as he can and stills, a strangled cry trying to escape him that he holds back, resulting in a mangled moan caught in his throat as he spills deep within her. 

They both linger like this; catching their breath, enjoying the comfort of their warmth despite the sweat and quivers between them. Of course, it’s Chev who breaks apart first- but hesitantly, looking as if he wishes to simply lay entwined with her throughout the night. But he knows the discomfort that would bring, and she watches as he shifts to his knees, carefully pulling out.

In the midst of her mind trying to come down from such a high, she feels a damp cloth pressed against her sex, her cheeks blushing for different reasons as he tends to her as a lover would - with care and grace she is unused to.

Yet, there is a question that still burns within her.

“So…”

She’s unsure of how to ask, especially with her heart still recovering from it all. All she can think of is how weak her legs feel, the feeling of his cum beginning to dribble out of her. But she needs to know, especially from the one who has helped her so much in this world.

Chevalier regards her with a blank look, then an amused huff.

“I don’t plan to toss you aside.”

“So then…?”

With a gentleness she’s still unused to, he takes her chin in his grasp, giving her that selfsure smile before pressing his lips against hers. Remnants of the heat from before still linger, but he breaks it off before they can be tempted once more. 

“I’ve made you mine, have I not?”

Dodo asked for omega chev, and I tried to deliver a little! abo is out of my zone since I don't fully understand the universe, so this was limited due to that.

I like to imagine that Clavis intentionally had Mel deliver the letter to meddle in their love life some more, but likely didn't realize Chev had been and would be doing That.

This is the first time in...I feel like at least ten years since I wrote first person? I have to say, I'm actually a bit proud of how it sounds in this. I rarely write chev but I enjoyed doing it like this a lot.

Thank you for trusting me to write your babygirl, Dodo!!! I wuv mel.

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Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

[anime-grimmy-art]

It’s this time of the year again, folks. Time to wrap up the art Ive made in the last 12 months in another Year in Review! I’ve noticed that this is my fifth Year in Review in a row, so I’ll be making an extra post looking back on the progress in those last 5 years!

I've got a lot to say about this year, but purely art wise, I've gone all when it comes to comics, damn! I've kinda found a format that is messy, and therefore more time efficient, yet still looks good. I even made 2 animatics and lotsa shorts/reels! All that on top of opening coms twice, and, oh yeah, MAKING A WHOLE ASS 4MIN ANIMATION ON MY OWN.

How is my hand still alive.

2023 has been….interesting, to say the least. The first half year I was working on my thesis project, aka making an animated short all on my own (in the art department), which makes it honestly surprising how much I managed to churn out between animating. Trigun rly did have me in a choke hold.

Summer was a bit more spotty, esp. with me not being able to draw anything during August as I was writing my thesis (and doing commissions). And towards the end of the year, Kingdom Hearts tried to save me, but alas, Genshin Impact has finally sunk its teeth into me and dragged me to the bottom of the rabbit hole. It all started with me watching a story summary and lore videos while I was sick after my thesis and I was too intrigued to not dig deeper and well, first I fell in love with Kaeya and then the ships started dropping in left and right.

I’m not gonna lie, the last few months have been weird. I finished my masters in October, and have been on job hunt since, sadly without success so far. I’m existing in this weird limbo of still not grasping I’m not a student anymore after 18 years in education, not really being able to accept I’m an adult, yet desperately trying to find something so I can make a routine, cos rn Im too scared to build a rhythm as I know I’ll have a so much harder time readjusting again. It’s left me in a weird emotional state, where most of the time I feel fine, but when it counts, there’s just, nothing. No joy at getting my diploma, no anticipation to finally go to a convention again, neither any sadness hearing my grandfather died. It frustrates me that it extends to my art as well, there’s excitement over ideas and concepts, but no motivation to pick up the pencil, which makes me either not finish art at all or making so many shortcuts and just ending up with sth not satisfactory to me since it’s not the idea I sought after.

Tho, not everything is doom and gloom. I DID finish a whole ass short animation and got my masters degree, that IS sth to be proud of. Also, while Im struggling at drawing, I’ve also kinda started integrating my shortcuts into my style and some stuff I’ve thrown together actually turns out real good nowadays. Also, and this might be a bit of a weird one, I’m so fucking happy to know I can still enjoy gay ships. I’ve been a bit uncertain over the last few years because when I was around 16-18, I had a real big yaoi phase, which mostly came from the fact so much stuff came out that tickled my brain in the right way (Free, Haikyuu, etc.). But over the years, my enthusiasm died down, and I even started to resent some ships because it’s all some fandoms produced. I often found myself liking a hetero ship more than the popular gay ship, which really made me not wanna stick around because I did not care for most fanart and you can only go through a tag with art you don’t care about so long before you lose interest. I think in retrospect that it rly had nothing to do with the ships being gay ships but rather cos the fans just shoved it in your face when you didn’t care (and shipping culture nowadays also can get real scary). But I’m so happy to see I can still get obsessed with a ship and it’s all thanks to Haikaveh/Kavetham. It really just needed the right flavour for me to dig in again. And oh my god, I FINALLY like a ship with a SHIT TON of art and fanfictions, no more scrounging the crumbs from the bottom of the barrel. 

Anyways, enough lamenting. Here’s to hoping I can bite my tongue and get shit started properly in 2024, and that my brainrots may make me obsessed enough to churn out an obscene amount of fanart again.

[rashomonss]

“I would sell my soul for a bit more time with you…” with Barbatos, please!

I mean, it fits kind of perfectly with him, amiright?

omg it so does fit, and tbh if it’s one thing i love more than smut with barbs is angst with him (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

So sorry for the late reply to this I’ve been going through it lately but I’m finally good now! (I think) anyway enjoy! ♡

just a few more moments of your time…

Humans were fascinating.

Barbatos knew that much. However he never expected himself to get attached to a human; let alone the exchange student his lord brought to the Devildom.

So just what was it that was drawing him to them? It could possibly have been the persistence they had, to develop a better relationship with him, or maybe just sheer curiosity on his part, as to why everyone adored them so much.

No matter the case, Barbatos soon found himself swept off his feet by their presence as well.

He can’t recall the exact moment he started developing a fondness for them, but he can recall how his heart felt.

Whenever they’re near he can’t help but feel slightly nervous. Slightly more conscious of how he presented himself. It’s been so long since he ever felt such a way, so in a sense he enjoyed these giddy emotions you brought on.

At this specific moment in time he was in fact, truly happy, which of course shocked him at first. He had always prioritized Diavolo’s life and emotions above his own, so in turn he never felt the need to prolong his happiness. But of course, that all changed when you had come into his life.

He had truly enjoyed every moment he could spend with you. Ranging from you helping him in the kitchen to tea dates in the human realm, and especially intimate moments privately in his room. Barbatos wanted more of your time, he wanted more of your touch, and he wanted more of you.

He was content on spending more time with you, and he was overjoyed when you felt the same. So because of this a conversation arose and it was only then did he realize how truly different humans were from demons.

It was a subject he never thought would bring up a topic he wasn’t fond of but here you both were.

“Those tea leaves are truly divine. They’re absolutely perfect, down to the aroma and even flavor. I’d love to make some for you if I had the chance” Barbatos explained, as he ranted on to you with a small smile across his face.

You had laid your head peacefully on his lap as ran his gloved fingers through your hair and talked to you about tea and whatnot. There were times when Barbatos was talkative, and now happened to be one of those moments. Once you got him started with tea he ended up having a hard time trying to stop himself, it’s not that you minded though. Since you found his voice to be very soothing in general.

“I’d love to try them, but honestly any tea you make will always taste lovely” you smiled, letting your face fall into his thighs.

Barbatos smiled at your response and brushed a piece of hair from your face. “I promise to make you a cup when the next petals are harvested.”

“I can’t wait, when will that be?” You replied looking up towards him.

“In about a hundred years or so, the leaves are of high quality so they take time to be produced. However, the longer and more patient the tea leaves take to be made, the more exquisite the taste.”

This time you hadn’t replied to his statement. Instead your eyes fell on his beaming smile and you sighed in response. “Yeah I’d love to try them…”

The second the response left your mouth you wished to take it back, to tell him that you wouldn’t be able to, and he probably knew that as well. Barbatos was so caught up in the moment and the true excitement he felt to introduce you to something he loved that he hadn’t realized you wouldn’t even live to see it.

The conversation between the two of you continued however Barbatos soon realized you had become disengaged with the conversation long after the tea leaves had been brought up. He wanted to question you but couldn’t find the words to ask about your indifferent expression or the way your smile strained when he tried to cheer you up.

A few more moments of silence passed and Barbatos sighed moving a stand of hair out of your face again. “What’s wrong my dear? You seem to be upset in some way? Was it perhaps something I said?”

Your eyes went wide and you sat up slightly looking him in the eye. “No, no it’s not you, I assure you. It’s just…” you replied, then stopped yourself. Would he think you to be dramatic if you were still caught up on the whole tea leaves ordeal? You doubted it. This was Barbatos after all, he always understood, but a part of you really wanted to spend all the time you possibly could with him.

You had opted by beating around the bush about how to bring up the topic again, however before you could finish Barbatos picked up on what you were meant.

The thought stunned him for a minute but how could he possibly forget such an important factor? Humans have limited life span, that was just how they were created. He wanted to curse the shortened timeframe they had but nonetheless understood. That was the way of life, many different species have different concepts of time.

Yes he knew this, after all he deals with time itself.

Even with him knowing this factor why did it still create a hole in his chest when he pondered the thought of you leaving this world. What worried him the most was the thought of you leaving him.

Humans and demons grow older at different rates, with that in mind he couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving him alone. After it took him so long so find someone such as you.

If only you could stay with him. If only he could prolong your life slightly, even if it was just for another century. He didn’t want to think about saying goodbye just yet, not to someone he gave his whole heart to.

“I would sell my soul for a bit more time with you.”

Barbatos spoke, grabbing you softly by the waist. While moment was endearing you didn’t want him to give up a part of himself just so you could stay alive longer.

“I can’t accept that Barbatos. I don’t want you giving up a part of yourself for me” you replied, sighing softly.

“But MC if possible I’d like to prolong our time as much as possible”

You shook your head then looked back up to him. “As would I but I’m not going to let you do that for me. If we’re not able to spend any more time together then using the time we spend now I want to focus on the memories we make currently, rather then the ones we could possibly make in the future.”

“Even if we don’t have that long of a future left together I want to spend it like we have all the time in the world” you spoke, flashing him a smile.

The butler hugged you tightly without a word. If you wanted to spend the rest of your time with him then he couldn’t be more happy to spend whatever time he could with you.

Like you had mentioned even if you didn’t have all the time in the world it would be better to focus on what is in front of you rather then the future you both have together. He was going to make sure you felt as if you had all the time in the world, even if deep down he was terrified at the thought of saying goodbye.

[reimenaashelyee]

Clean version here

Not a bingo but a jenga. My responses below the cut

Somehow I have half of this image filled out. I wish I could cash it in for points to redeem.

Jenga:

First comic is a magnum opus: There had been a string of graphic novel adaptations of books I wanted do when I as a young teenager, but The World in Deeper Inspection was my first, substantial, original behemoth of an idea. It was the only one with the power and the potential to stay and push me to become a comics creator. Everything I am and have as an artist and writer is because of TWIDI.

Fan art more popular than OCs: This was going to be inevitable because I hardly ever post about them online. But I suppose if you count my one-off character design illustrations that go viral or my published graphic novels, this box wouldn’t be true… (The God of Arepo is my most popular fan work)

I binged your life’s work in 2 hours: I am glad you like my work enough to be this engrossed in it – but honestly please please reread it again and SLOWLY so you can appreciate the visual storytelling – not just the words and the main action!! You’ll have a fuller experience if you take the time to luxuriate!!

This isn’t even my day job: It both is and isn’t. I do enough from comics that I can survive out of it near full time (thanks to my usual speed; very grateful), but I get financial stability from the monthly paycheck from the actual day job. Relying on my speed to produce near-constant output for money is something I am losing interest in as my ideas become more ambitious and niche.

Subscribe to my Patreon: Somehow I am able to hawk my free-to-read platforms with a certain amount of success but never can get a big dent on my Ko-fi.

Received unsolicited critique on a free comic: Unavoidable reality. Though I hadn’t had something egregious in a long time (and it better stay that way).

Had to explain what a webcomic even is to someone IRL: Nearly all the people I surround myself with are ‘normies’ (people who aren’t so online and/or don’t read online media), so this comes up often – and it will become more frequent as I pursue institutional pathways like residencies and grants. Even if they knew what webcomics were, it would be under the name of webtoons.

I can’t wait to draw this scene in 4 years: lol @ Alexander Comic and TWIDI

Multi-year hiatus: TWIDI’s eternal curse, until I figure out how to build enough stability in my career/life to return to it – full-time and for real.

Financially supported by someone else: My dayjob, mainly, but previously my parents.

Is somehow mutuals with favourite artist: That’s what it’s like as your career progresses and matures! It’s always nice to become peers with those you admire – especially the ones you grow to love only after knowing them.

Characters get gayer over time: Growing up and being able to witness the various ways of living can and will change how one approaches their characters.

Successfully fulfilled a Kickstarter: Not on my own, but I had a few for my books that published smoothly.

Empty space:

ADHD diagnosis: I have ADHD-esque behaviours that I have managed to overcome with ADHD-specific hacks, but whether I actually have the thing itself is a question mark. I lean towards not really having it since I am able to execute and complete tasks regularly.

Works in animation or went to school for it: I used to want to study and work in animation before I discovered the potential of comics as a storytelling medium. I don’t have a desire to break into that industry, even without all the employment and late-capitalism instability that it’s going through right now. I am not averse to trying if asked, however.

Had an art teacher who hated anime: Never went to art school.

Yes I’ve had burnout but what about second burnout: Currently going through a fallow period, but I really don’t think it’s Burnout Burnout. Touch wood, I continue to maintain my love, interest and desire to make comics and stay in my artistic career.

Forgot how to draw main character’s face: Characters are so seared into my brain, it’s not easy to forget. Helps that they each have particular quirks that belong to their design.

This comic gave me my hand/wrist injury: Still out here WITHOUT any of those. I hope I can keep it that way until whenever I retire.

Emergency commissions: Hopefully I will never have to resort to do this. (Very grateful, yes)

Sleep… “schedule”? my 7-8 hours of sleep is essential and non-negotiable.

If it’s not 3 hours long is it even worth adding to the work playlist: This is is referring to video essays I guess? I rarely ever encounter essays of over 3 hours that I am interested enough to watch. (Also I can’t really watch something while drawing; I lose speed/concentration)

Embarrassed to look at early pages: Not embarrassed – I was younger and less-skilled then, that’s just how it is. There were a lot of things younger me did that I could still learn from.

Regrets costume choices: I pride myself in being able to style myself and my characters, and so far I have never regretted the clothes I give my characters – the TWIDI characters all have base outfits from when I was 15!

[amandacanwrite]

Summoning Serotonin by Amanda Cessor

Content Warnings|| Heavy themes around depression, loneliness, failure. Mentions of suicide. Please let me know if there are any I missed. Summary|| A desperate human summons a demon in the hopes that they can trade their soul away for a neurotypical brain and a break from their depression. A/n|| I very intentionally wrote this story without anything that identifies the narrator's gender. Please imagine who you see fit there, whether that be you or someone else.

Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal

So, I’ve decided to sell my soul to a demon.

I know what you’re thinking, that seems a little extreme, but, hear me out.

I have spent so much time, money and energy trying to fix myself. I’ve tried and tried and tried to rid myself of my myriad of mental illnesses, only to watch my life fall apart around me again and again and again.

At this point, I’m either going to sell my soul or off myself. Either way, I wind up burning in Hell. I might as well make the most of the years I have left on this dumpy planet before I spend eternity swimming in a lake of fire.

So, here I sit — on a Friday — that way I have the weekend to enjoy my newfound neurotypical brain. Who knows, maybe I’ll even take a shower.

Big plans, you know?

Honestly, I’m really surprised by how little is required to summon a lord of night? A little sulfur, some graveyard dirt, a few black candles, and a couple drops of my blood. Considering the state of things, it isn’t hard to part with.

I start by drawing a pentagram in chalk on a clearing I’ve made in the clutter and mess on my coffee table, using my sleeve to buff out a coffee ring on the cheap furniture. I place a black candle on one corner for fire, graveyard dirt on another to symbolize earth, sulfur on another for the element of air, a glass of red wine on yet another corner for water. Finally, at the very top, I prick my finger and smear a fat glob of blood to link the spell to me and to represent the fifth element of the soul.

“Hear me, O, knights of Hell,” I say, my voice warbling with my own embarrassment. “Rise from your fiery pit and heed my call!”

This is all the ritual said to say, but once done, I only catch the faint whiff of the sulfur and watch as black wax trickles down onto my already-ruined coffee table. I run a hand through my oily hair and sigh. I’m stupid to think this would work. I’m stupid for even trying it.

I’m about to head back to bed and sleep the day away when the doorbell rings. I jump at the sound — I have visitors so infrequently that I have long forgotten what it even sounded like.

I stand up and go to the door, peeking through the grimy, smudged peephole. Outside of my door, I see a vaguely person-shaped blob. I figure it’s a neighbor that’s come to complain about the smell of rotten eggs. I unlock the door and open it, finding a smartly dressed man with black hair.

And … horns?

Oh.

“You called a demon?” he asks.

“Uhh …”

“May I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” I scramble as I step out of the way.

He lets himself in and strides to my sofa where he sits and wrinkles his nose at the lingering odor of the sulfur I had used to call him. Then again, I haven’t been able to clean the apartment in the last two months. So, maybe he’s reacting to that.

I shift between my feet awkwardly, and he pats the seat next to him, beckoning me over.

I come sit with him, and he snaps his fingers, producing a manila folder with my name on it. He opens it. A pen materializes and drops into his hand, and he jots something down.

I can’t see what he’s writing.

“Alright, so why did you summon me today?” he asks.

“Uhm — I was hoping to make a trade.”

“Mhm — and what are your proposed terms?”

“My soul? For uh —” I sputter, “a properly functioning brain and ample neurotransmitters?”

He lifts his head and looks at me, his eyes scanning from my greasy hair to my stained T-shirt to the sweatpants I never bother to wash.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Hell is rather overpopulated right now,” he says as he sets my file off to the side. “We aren’t really trading for souls unless the soul in question is rather remarkable.”

I stare at him for a solid fifteen seconds.

“Are you telling me,” I say, “that I’m such a mess that I can’t even trade my soul away for some peace?”

“I’m telling you,” he responds, “that between all the politicians, the billionaires, and the mega-corporate CEOs, we don’t have much space for anyone else. And, to be quite honest with you, your soul is worth more than a trade for mental health.”

I let out a laugh. It sounds unhinged.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you when I work up the gumption to end it,” I retort.

“Unlikely, we don’t take suicides anymore either.”

He scans my apartment again and then looks at me.

“You’re not in treatment.”

It’s not a question.

“What’s the point if it can’t fix my broken brain chemistry?”

“It isn’t about fixing you, there’s nothing to fix.”

“I can’t get out of bed before one in the afternoon. I haven’t showered in five days. I have no friends, and I can’t keep a tidy home. How can you say there’s nothing to fix?”

“Those are just symptoms of an illness.”

“Yes — the illness I’d liked to cure,” I say. “I just want to be normal.”

“What is normal? Who’s to say that I grant you the cure for your depression, your anxiety, and your ADHD and you don’t later wind up with some other problem down the line that you can’t control? Illnesses just require a little management.”

“I don’t want to manage it. I want to cure it. I can’t be happy until I fix it.”

My tone is getting more and more angry. Tears burn my eyes. The demon sighs and looks around my apartment again. He stands and begins to gather garbage in his hands. Empty instant noodle cups, candy wrappers, soda cans.

“Do you know anyone with diabetes?” he asks.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask.

He goes into my kitchen and grabs a trash bag and starts filling it with garbage. Anything he can find.

“You don’t see diabetics giving up on life because their bodies can no longer process sugar the way everyone else’s can. They take medicine, they find alternative sweeteners, they learn how to work around their malfunctioning pancreas.”

I watch as he continues to clean my apartment, waving his hand like he’s Mary Poppins and levitating a stack of my books onto my bookshelf. I wince as he opens my blinds and my windows. A breeze flows into the room and I realize just how stuffy it’s been lately.

“Why should your mental health be treated any differently?” he continues.

“Diabetes doesn’t ruin friendships?” I say, almost annoyed with the comparison.

“Says who? Alcohol metabolizes as sugar. What if your friends only like to drink and party? What do you do when you can’t drink anymore?” he points out.

“Those don’t sound like very healthy friends," I say.

As soon as the words tumble out of my mouth, he sets me with a deadpan look. One perfect brow arched as if to say you’re proving my point, you idiot.

“Losing friends because of your mental health is more of a reflection of those friends, not you," he tells me, just incase I can't put it together myself..

“But, I get so clingy and needy. I lose my mind with people.”

“Because you’re not in treatment. Those things get better when you go to therapy and start taking medication for your poorly functioning synapses. You learn tools to regulate your emotions, and you find people who understand you when you can’t regulate.”

He tosses a dishrag at me and starts doing my mountain of dishes. I stand up and join him at the sink and a quiet falls between us as we work away at the stinking pile. I put them away as I dry them. When the pile is nearly done, I finally ask him.

“Why are you doing this?”

He looks at me before looking back to the dish he’s rinsing.

“You’re in a bad way. You just need a little stepping stone. A clean flat is a good start. Then, maybe after a long shower, we’ll call some doctors and schedule you an appointment so you can get the treatment you need,” he says. “If you don’t feel better after getting the help you need, I’ll take your soul. But you better think of something more fun to trade for than curing your depression. Give me a challenge, for God’s sake.”

I laugh first.

And then I cry.

The kind of crying that seems endless — streams and streams of tears that seem to come from some bottomless reservoir. He pats my back, and I feel catharsis for the first time in months. Maybe even years.

Is this what it’s like when someone understands you? When someone can see your pain and can speak directly to it?

“I can’t believe I had to summon a demon to get something so small as help cleaning my apartment and scheduling a doctor’s appointment,” I say.

“I bet there are people around you that would have been happy to help you — I bet you struggle with asking.”

“It’s hard,” I say through hitching tears. “I’m so ashamed.”

He nods and offers me a black handkerchief; I take it and wipe the wetness from my face.

“It gets easier once you get the help you need. Medication, therapy — those are stepping stones too. And once you’re well enough to do these basic care tasks, then you can tackle finding friends that care about you, curating goals and dreams you want to accomplish,” he says. “Living is a lot easier when you have something to live for.”

I have no idea how he reads me to filth, but I appreciate it.

“Now into the shower with you — I’ll get the flat cleaned in the meanwhile," he says with doting fussiness.

When the demon is ready to leave about four hours later, my apartment is spotless. It smells like peaches (he gave me some scented candles), and I have both a therapy and psychiatrist appointment booked for the following week. It has been a long time since I felt hopeful. For once, I see light at the end of the tunnel.

When he stands to leave, I don’t want him to go. He seems to sense this because he sighs and looks at me.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay, but you know where to find me. I’m your caseworker now, so if you have need something — and I do mean desperately need —” He holds out his hand, and I watch curiously as a wisp of black smoke spins there, faster and faster, thicker and thicker, until it solidifies into a band of black stone, “use this. Spin it on your left index finger three times counterclockwise, and I’ll come to your aid.”

He holds it between his elegant fingers and drops it into my hand. I slide it onto my index finger, and it fits perfectly. Made just for me.

“How do I repay you for everything?” I ask.

“The sulfur and blood will do. I’ll check in after a few months and see how you’re faring,” he says.

I nod and smile at him. “Thank you, again, for everything.”

His lips curve slightly in an enigmatic smile.

And, then, he is gone.

____________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed this little short story. It's one that is very near and dear to my heart and represents conversations I've had with heartbroken friends and also, myself. Sometimes things are hard and we need a helping hand. If you are thinking of harming yourself, please call or text 988 (if in the US) or find your local crisis hotline here.

Tagging a few people who stated interest in reading this: @carrotsinnovember @whateverwarrior @lightningsrikes @a-crystallen-author @jessicagailwrites @artbyeloquent @csdarkfantasy @dyrewrites @dru-reads-writeblr

(PS I'm blown away that of you were excited for this little story, I really hope you liked it and that it didn't disappoint.)

[yowyowyaoi]

Zetsu’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Nagato

You can’t keep eating them without checking to see if we’re using them first.

300 miles? Is that really the closest?!

I can put you with Tobi or Hidan. Take your pick.

Put the letters where they can find them, then stay somewhere hidden to see their reactions.

Keep an eye on them please. No explosions, no sacrifices. Nothing to draw attention.

I’ve been practicing every day. Legs feel stronger.

I’d only risk it if you also want to risk being placed in a gengetsu.

I’m sure I’ll be gone before her. All I ask is she be well taken care of. It’s all that matters.

No. Under no circumstances. I need them all ALIVE and able to work, please.

You can ask but she’ll probably hit you hard enough to REALLY split you in half.

From Kakuzu

Yes well your appetite is proving quite costly.

Find where he’s hiding and I’ll give you a third of his bounty.

I’m not so sure that “intelligence” is a quality I’d associate with any of them.

Actually if you could naturally produce that we could sell bottles and make some money 🤔

Much, much too expensive.

I don’t care if you eat him but wait until I get his heart out first.

I’d rather you ate me; my body won’t be on display for him to entertain Deidara with.

It’s complicated. And by complicated I mean I let a one time physical urge turn into a years-long relationship. 

It’s the 1st. Rent and utilities are due. 

If I didn’t we wouldn’t have *anything*. Be grateful.

I’m not sure if my threads would hold for plant-skin.

Stop losing them for God’s sake each one costs $50 in materials to make!!

I’ll take your word for it. That voice creeps me out.

From Konan

Please don’t ever do that again. Nagato almost had a heart attack. 😡

It’s funny in a shouldn’t be funny way.

Wait you’ve seen him without the mask 👀

No I don’t care if they’re annoying we don’t have the time to replace them now!!

Ask Sasori to take a look. He enjoys a challenge.

I don’t care how easy it was to get, I’m NOT cooking with that kind of “meat” 🤢

No offense but do you even have nails 🤔

I’d rather we didn’t need to pick up and move again unless absolutely necessary.

Since we were children 🥰

I’d kill anyone who tried. With my bare hands.

Kisame may be able to but the rest will need it cooked.

You’re THAT old?! 😵‍💫

Stick to guys. I will remain the only woman in this group.

Can’t you eat them? Aren’t you part Venus fly trap??

From Hidan

Freak.

Then stop watching, weirdo!

Because if you take the body before my praying is finished then the entire ritual is void!!

Not to be gay but yeah I see what he sees. 

Then steal him some damn glasses next time!

But do plants even have dicks? Like is it green? Does it smell like grass? 🤔

He’s such a liar he wanted me since the day we met 😂

I saw you eyeing that cat and so did Itachi.

How do you say “Fuck you” in plant-speak?

They’re not “pink” they’re “rose”, heathen.

Ribs without sauce is like fucking without lube. Like what’s even the point?

If I could convert even one of those fucks I’d become a High Priest for Jashin.

Can’t. Kakuzu’s “withholding my paycheck” until I pay off that bounty of his that I killed. 🙄

So come with us. Everyone’s weird you’ll fit right in.

From Sasori

Elderberry, nightshade, and primrose. For now.

A mouse learns to fear other mice before it even thinks about predators.

Please stop that you gave him nightmares last time and I couldn’t work on my puppets for a whole week 😒

I don’t care as long as it has a big enough space for a lab.

Damn blue eyes trapped me for eternity.

An interesting experiment, certainly.

I have vague memories but that’s all.

You appear to be “friends” so talk to him and tell him to back off. 

Who do you think I am? That freak Orochimaru?!

I don’t buy that stupid act for a second.

If I suggested aloe vera would you find that insulting?

You and I are the least bothersome in terms of eating. I don’t, and you hunt.

I’ll contribute when the expense is relative to me.

From Kisame

So far only Itachi knows about it but the water there is clear and beautiful.

Your way of thinking is truly fascinating.

Of course you’re welcome to join us but you’ve voiced objections before to both tea and sweets.

No, I’ll BURY him myself before I let you eat him.

Crab and shrimp. Especially crab.

I’m aware. His smell is getting weaker and his chakra is shaky.

I admire your patience for it but I don’t do so well in the sun for so long.

Again? Why?? Who attracted attention this time? 😒

I don’t but Samehada seems to.

The battlefield is empty. Care to join me at the buffet? 😋

Between the prayer rituals and the constant bombing I just can’t handle either of them.

Salt is for the weak. Pure fear flavors the meat better than any seasoning. 

From Deidara

You can’t prove that was me, that could have been anyone!

If I’m successful there won’t BE anything left of me to eat so 🤷🏼

Idk you just look gray. Maybe stand in the sun for a while?

Ok we may eat more BUT his food costs more!

Wait is it real hair or like plant stuff 🤔

I didn’t this time he was dancing and he tripped on his cloak like an idiot.

Honestly not until I met Sasori lol 

Omg where?! Riverbanks are always a goldmine of natural clay! 🤩

I get that but I’m just not interested, eternity is so boring.

Low key he goes into this voice sometimes that scares the piss out of me.

Bc it’s weird man it’d be like watching my mother shower or something 😖

Like usual he couldn’t shut up and almost got us killed on the spot 😡

Not unless you want to pick the lice out of my hair afterwards.

From Itachi

Not sure of the exact dynamics but I think it’s second or third cousins.

Maybe it’s best we all just live with our own partners. Too many in one area and eventually someone figures it out.

No he’s as gentle as possible. I just have sensitive skin.

Yes but cabbage is so versatile.

You saw him? Did he look well? 👀

The glasses help some but most everything is still a massive blur.

I tried. Nagato tried. He refuses to give up on the idea.

There is no “before” and there’s no “after0. There’s just NOW.

No I know he ate it because he had the jam smeared all over his collar.

22 doesn’t really interest me.

From Obito

The right arm still twitches if I try to lift too much.

Come on weren’t YOU happy when he died?!

He can’t turn me down forever. Just picture him with the Uchiha fan on his back 😍

Yeah well he’s still my little cousin and I still worry.

I think it scares him a little, he almost walked into a tree that first time I did it on accident.

It’s not excessive; the sugar is literally the only thing pushing me forward right now.

I would bet money that he’s the worst Sensei ever to those kids. No wonder Sasuke was so weak.

The constant money woes are so tedious.

Blind or not his reflexes are unmatched and he could still take me out in one move.

We should have put more emphasis on intelligent and less on “skills”.

You’ve gotta admit the explosions DO liven things up 🤷🏻

What if you ate him and he could still talk from inside of your stomach though? Is that a chance you want to take?

Bonus: From Madara

He stopped responding two years ago he acts like I’m dead.

What? That little shit. 😡

If the blonde is giving him too much of a distraction, dispose of him.

You don’t need to pre-chew my food I’m not a baby bird.

Have you seen my good blanket?

What happened to my slippers?

🍆 I want this. I’m craving this so bad. Please bring it to me.

Tell that boy to come back I need a good bath and a haircut.

Perhaps if you hadn’t recruited so many *brats* you wouldn’t be having such an issue.

Whatever you do, do NOT let them breed.

Did you remember where I stashed my last painting of Hashirama?

If I was younger I could have eliminated the entire group within seconds. They’d never even know what hit them.

Please procure a backscratcher and industrial grade toenail clippers.

Wait until he sleeps and move several large rocks into his room. I guarantee he’ll cry.

First that young lass, then the Hatake boy, now the blonde. He never learns his lesson does he?

What do you mean he cut it?? An Uchiha’s hair is his crown! Tell him to get back here NOW.

I should have chosen Fugaku’s son instead. Likely a lot less crying.

[erimeows]

Bloodborne

So, this is the third installment of my Akatsuki x Reader series. If you'd like context for this oneshot, read the first part here on AO3! Hope you guys enjoy- more chapters centered around the other Akatsuki members will be posted soon (:

Every Friday night since you’ve joined the Akatsuki, you find yourself in Sasori’s bedroom at the Akatsuki’s main hideout. You sit on a stool with your body tense as he sits directly across from you and focuses on his work. You can’t bear to look, so you close your eyes and hold your breath when you see the man start to unpack and prep the needle he’s going to use.

You wince from the sensation of having your blood drawn- the needle being pushed into your vein, the tourniquet wrapped around your arm, the headache that comes with squeezing your eyes shut. 

In return for saving your life once, you promised Sasori that he would be able to use samples of your blood whenever he needed them. You have a rare kekkei genkai that allows you to produce poison from your skin, and apparently, there’s enough of that poison in your bloodstream for Sasori to use in his puppets. 

You tend to keep your word, so as he requested earlier on in your ‘friendship’ (or, you like to think it’s a friendship), you come to his room once a week and let him draw your blood. The two of you chat about what’s going on in the Akatsuki, and honestly, you thought the two of you were getting somewhere. Underneath his Hiruko puppet, Sasori is quite attractive- he’s intelligent, creative, beautiful, strong, and easy to be around. You crushed on him from the start and assumed that with so many weeks of spending time together, he would at least see you as a friend, but…

“You seem on edge… More so than usual,” Sasori points out as he smoothly slides the needle out of your arm, stores the blood in vials, and wraps your bleeding arm. Then, he unwraps the tourniquet and leans in- perhaps a little too close. He smells like fresh cut wood and cedar, and his fluffy scarlet locks are ruffled from a long day of working on his puppets. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” You lie through your teeth, standing up and clutching your arm.

Sasori rolls his eyes and turns to label your vials of blood before putting them in his miniature freezer. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” He points out with his back turned to you.

You frown.

“How can you tell?”

“I’ve been alive a long time… Been around,” Sasori turns in his chair again, this time to face you. The expression on his face is calm and leveled as always. You can’t help but find it frustrating. You know full well that, a few times, you’ve lost your composure in front of him; shown up injured and in need of help, cried when you were in pain, let little hints of your feelings towards him slip. Sasori, on the other hand, is always composed. He seems slightly fond of you and that’s it. You’ve seen no signs of love or adoration or even of just a little crush, and he’s certainly never shown weakness in front of you. He merely shrugs as he continues to talk, not meeting your eyes. “You learn things, especially when you’ve been lied to your whole life.”

“That’s awfully cryptic,” You respond, sitting back down and staring up at the ceiling.

Now, you can feel him looking at you again, but you refuse to meet his prying gaze. If he can already tell when you’re lying, letting him look straight into your eyes will only make your situation worse. 

“As I tend to be… But what’s bothering you?”

“I was talking with Deidara,” You finally admit.

Earlier in the day, Deidara heavily scolded you for spending so much time with Sasori, insisting that the puppet-user held no fondness for you and was strictly using you for your blood. While that was what you intended your relationship with Sasori to be at the beginning, you’d hate to think that after all the nights spent in his room talking to him while doing this, that he isn’t even remotely interested in you. But, he is a cold man, and Deidara knows him better than anyone else in the Akatsuki… So you can’t brush Deidara’s words off as easily as you’d like.

“Oh, please,” Sasori scoffs, rolling his eyes again. “What did that idiot say that’s put you in a mood like this?”

You wince at Sasori’s tone. Though he’s clearly not upset with you, it sounds like he’s already agitated with Deidara- a regular occurrence, from how you’ve seen the two of them interact. 

“Don’t be mad.”

“Have you ever seen me angry?” Sasori asks as if the answer should be ‘no’.

“Only when someone keeps you waiting,” You shrug, then think back to the many times you’ve seen him lash out at Deidara for either showing up late to a planned meeting or arguing with him about their perspectives on art. “Or when it’s Deidara…”

“Let me rephrase that… Have you ever seen me angry with you?”

“Well, no.”

“Then spit it out.”

At that, you twiddle your thumbs and do everything that you can to avoid Sasori’s icy gaze.

“He said that… Well…”

“What?”

“I consider you a friend, but he said that you were just using me for my blood, which I guess is fine- that was the agreement since you saved me,” You explain. You’re so anxious that your stomach churns with anxiety as you continue. “But he said that one day you’d get sick of dealing with me and that you’d kill me and turn me into a puppet.”

Sasori simply shakes his head, as if your words are completely ridiculous. 

“I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’d eventually run out of poison, since it comes from your veins. If I were to take those out to make you into a puppet, you’d be useless,” Upon hearing Sasori’s words, you can feel your expression drop. It’s like he’s only keeping you alive because it’s practical- not because he enjoys having you around. “It’s not just that, I…”

“You what?” You question.

“I don’t mind your company. I have a million spies and a million assistants, (y/n),” Sasori reaches forward and, much to your surprise, places a single hand on top of your knee. You nearly jump out of your skin at the touch- on a normal night, he wouldn’t dare put his hands on you unless it was to draw blood, and even then, he’s usually gloved. “If I didn’t want to be around you, I would have them do this and bring me the samples back- or I would have them find another member of your clan to use instead.”

You furrow your brow and stand up to leave the room once more.

“So all I am to you is bearable.”

“That’s not it at all. This is grunt work, (y/n),” Sasori stands as well and follows after you. Before you can reach the door, Sasori catches your wrist in one hand. “I’m doing it to be in your presence… At least more than the others are.”

“I’m glad you enjoy my company, then.”

“I more than enjoy it,” Sasori pauses. You look back at him, confused. Though his expression tends to appear flat, he actually seems conflicted. His wooden fingers still wrapped around your wrist make your heart beat hard and fast in your chest. Then, looking you straight in the eye, he confesses. “I assumed I’d lost the ability to feel love a long time ago, but you’ve made me realize… That I’ve merely been around the wrong people all this time.”

You don’t believe it at first. If Deidara was right, this can’t be true. Maybe Sasori sees you as a friend and is trying to spare your feelings? Or maybe he’s just trying to keep you around so he can keep using your blood? With that thought, you try to reassure him that he doesn’t have to sweet talk you for you to keep to your arrangement.

“Sasori, you don’t have to-”

“No, let me finish,” Sasori interjects, shaking his head and moving to stand closer to you. “I don’t want you to feel as if I don’t value you for you.”

“What… What do you mean by that?”

“Of course, when we first met, our arrangement was merely for convenience, but… I’ve developed these feelings for you that I believed were impossible…”

Finally, Sasori leans in and presses his lips against yours. They’re incredibly soft and delicate- one of the few human parts from his old body that he kept when he transferred his soul into the puppet version of himself. Regardless of how taken aback you are, when Sasori releases your wrist, you manage to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. 

“Sasori,” You whisper, pulling away and staring straight at him. Before, you wouldn’t have been so bold, but it seems as if he likes the attention as he smiles down at you. He allows his eyes to flutter shut with his long lashes resting against his high wooden cheekbones. “Does that mean… That you…?”

“I love you,” He clarifies, putting an end to your misery. You let out a sigh of relief at the same time that butterflies start to flutter around your stomach. Briefly, you start to think that joining the Akatsuki might’ve been one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. “So tell that fool Deidara to shove it next time he tells you that I’m using you for your blood… Part of why I’ve been doing this is to get closer to you.”

“Ha, okay. I’ll be sure to tell him.”

“Come again next Friday, my dear, and I promise I’ll show you just how much I love you. I’ll plan something wonderful to repay you for all you’ve done for me. How does that sound?”

You grin, then lean in to kiss the redhead again.

“I’d love that.”

[doshmanziari]

Hey, everyone.

In 2022, I wrote and illustrated a short comic book which I published and sold copies of at that year’s MICE. Entitled Adyton, it was a brief exploration of what I'd very loosely call the close encounter phenomenon, with an emphasis on the abduction aspect. Since then, I’ve wanted to expand on the book; but, as is usual for me, I have to ruminate on something for a long while until embarking on the project feels right. This recently happened, and I’ve decided to entitle what I intend to be my first complete and long-form graphic novel Can You See Behind the Moon? I’m not going to say where the title comes from, and will leave it to those who are more familiar with some of the paranormal literature to recognize its origin.

Over the years, I’ve made sputtering attempts at other graphic novels, but the lack of a clear narrative direction for one doomed it to oblivion (Underbrickers), while the creative momentum of the other seemed bound to a very particular timeframe (Grim Synergy). Differently, I see this project as encompassing ideas which, to varying degrees, are present within my mind every day, or every other day, and I do think it can be sustained by that persistence. If I were forced to speak in very general and perhaps reductive terms about Can You See Behind the Moon?, it is my attempt to explore possibilities implied by close encounters in a way which emphasizes a deep and occulted relationship humanity appears to have with itself, the cosmos, and what one might term the evolutionary impulse.

The first four pages you see here (not counting the cover) are recreations of Adyton’s first six pages. As should be apparent, the narrative is not linear. Like Adyton, the plot sometimes progresses according to visual resonances which can also be interpreted as conceptual resonances. For instance, the as-yet-unnamed young man’s finger-gun gesture becomes the transitional point for a reference to the so-called Kelly-Hopkinsville encounter, wherein guns figured prominently, and unusually.

To be clear, this work has been done very quickly, in the interest of submitting it to relevant publishers as proof-of-concept material, and so that I’m able to maintain a pace of a couple of pages every two or three days (while also producing “fine art” for gallery shows, to say nothing of various other side projects). But I also like the roughness of the drawings, and the color of the newsprint paper… so, the making of these has also carried with it pleasure and occasional surprise at the results. Since I’ve decided to work within a limited palette, I’m relying heavily upon the linework.

For Christmas last year, my partner — somewhat regretfully — got me a comic book about UFOs published the same year by Dark Horse. I write “somewhat regretfully” because she didn’t really like the look of it; and when I received it I had to agree: the art is so simplistic, mundane, and ugly that I don’t think I’ll ever do more than skim some of the pages (the author also seems to have only done the bare minimum of research regarding Betty and Barney Hill’s case). But I’ve used the book as a point of motivation: surely, if something that bland could get green-lit by a fairly well-known comics publisher, then my work stands a chance.

Another one of my particularities is that I tend to get through projects more quickly when I don’t assign their completion an arbitrary date, and also when I don’t make myself beholden to publicizing all of the progress. I don’t intend on making a Kickstarter or anything for this — unless it becomes necessary — so I’m not sure when I’ll be prepared to share more. But, the time will come.

Anyway — even if there’s not much here yet, thanks for looking!

[phantomram-b00]

I know I’ve been on a good omens brainrot. But I want to stop and talking about something, some movie as it been exactly this day (edit: yesterday, I meant to post this yesterday but it got hectic and I couldn’t finished until 12. So my bad, I tried. That and the wifi is shit, so forgive me) (at least released on Netflix). But it just not some movie, you might know it, you might not that’s okay because I would like to talk about…..*drum rolls*

Now for those who don’t know and without spoiling too much as I recommend this movie, it follows Kat Elliot a black teenage girl who’ve gone through a traumatic event of her parent’s death and have two demons, Wendell and Wild, who have their own agenda of opening a theme park for the souls. Can’t stress this enough that this movie is worth the watch. Please go watch before going to see this post as I will be discussing the movie, spoiler warning ahead 🤭 unless if you wanna get spoil then, that’s on you, who am I to tell you what to do am I right? With that being said let get into this

(Disclaimer: Now, I am planning a drawing for it so stay tone for that. But I couldn’t finish in time due to being on vacation but it will be done! ^v^ now onto the post.)

Honestly, this is my second stop motion picture movie since coraline, who funfact Henry Selick directed. He also directed Wendell and Wild and was produced by Jordan Peele who also stars as Wild himself with his friend Keegan-Michael Key who plays Wendell; honestly to see these two play the demon bring be back to Key and Peele show they did, always happy to see them together and be chaotic duos. But I do wanna give honor to Jordan Peele as imo, his movies have been phenomenal between Get out, Nope, Us, and now Wendell and Wild (granted produced but he did have control), I can’t wait to see what else he got in plan. I think what make me appreciate his directing/producing is how he can say and I quote in this news article,

“I feel fortunate to be in this position where I can say to Universal, ‘I want to make a 20$ million horror movie with a black family’ and they say yes” - Jordan Peele (2019)

And frankly, I’m happy representation is happening, (I’m not black, I’m only Puerto Rican, but to have poc representation make me happy! but also that, imma say this, representation do matter. You (and I’m talking to the non-poc/white) might not think it not a big deal, but trust me, it is matter and it is important. And it should. And I’m happy Jordan Peele for example here is able to diverse the cast, and like he said, “not that I don’t like white dudes but I’ve seen that movie.” I’ll dive deep soon so remember this.) and I hope they keep going with representation.

Henry Selick, he’s responsible for Coraline, Nightmare before Christmas and more! And to see another Henry Selick movie, I had a feeling with a help of Jordan Peele that I was going to love it. And I did! I’m excited to see whatever he come up with next, though if it another stop motion, which I love stop motion animation as much as a next person, however, do you know how long these shit takes? Like I gotta give them prop for the dedication! But I don’t know how you get patience for stop motion- but back to Henry, he responsible for my love for Coraline and nightmare before Christmas, and I gotta give him and Jordan Peele props and credit, and also to thank them for making this movie!

Now the casting, honestly the casting imo was fantastic, Lyric Ross was excellent as Kat Elliot, both when Kat is a no nonsense headstrong character to when she is actively grieving of the death of her parents as she grows from her trauma. Very much Phenomenal work and her chemistry with Wendell and Wild is what make it much cool as well as her chemistry with Raul (Sam Zelaya), Siobhan (Tamara Smart) and even Sister Helley (Angels Bassett herself!). I feel the casting was phenomenal and was well-casted I don’t think I had a moment where I think “oh this person could’ve been better” or “wow they bad”, nope I don’t think I have a complaint. Oh and Father level bests (James Hong) was just the right amount of a comedic antagonist next to Siobhan’s parent, his delivery was comedic and also a right amount of asshole. They all ate, and it was worth it for the cast!

The story! While I do think the pacing could’ve been better to flow better and also other qualms, but I won’t say that what toke me away, as I really like the story, I like how while yes the title and that it is about two demons, but I do like how we get to see Kat’s story and how she grows. As Jordan Peele mentions in again this article, the demon represent her personal demons with both her guilt and anger, and how she can overcome and wear your fears in a sense as well as dealing with her being a hell maiden. This was done well, and I like how it was done, sure was it a messy landing but it landed and it did well. Learning to overcome your demons is a challenge, hell I’m still trying to overcome them as I go and I’m twenty one, but as Kat shown, we can overcome our demons, and learn to carry on. And now as we saw at the end, she while she still grieve her parents, she learns that she not or never will be alone as she now surrounded by people who care and who won’t hurt her like the people in her past. Even accepting her two person demons, and being a hell maiden (which I will say, I think the demons can also represent how you handle them, like helley bottling up her demon can be a commentary on bottling up your problems rather than facing them. And seeing the amount that was there she had the bottle it up alot, which I can relate and I feel it was done well as well.) if they ever do a sequel, I would be here for it, i doubt their might because 1) stop motion takes such a long time. 2) the advertisement for this movie was done dirty. But if they did, I will be here for it and can’t wait to see what they do.

And finally the representation, honestly the presentation and the diversity of this movie was amazing. My eyes widen seeing just how diverse it, something I wish I had growing up as stated by Peele, I’ve already seen movies where predominantly of the cast was white, and (and this isn’t me saying “I hate white people” let me put this out there) I’m tired of seeing an all or almost all white or cast, I think it been done so many time and also it feel tiring and disheartening not to be represented in a way or even if there was it done stereotypical. So seeing representation was wonderful between black/Asian/Latine/Latinx/indigenous representation to there being Trans and disability representation. I hope more representation keep happening and there is, very much so! And as I said and I will say again, representation matters! And this movie’s rep was done very well! Im sure I’m missing some (forgive me it been a while and I don’t have access to Netflix as of now. Please forgive me, if I miss any please let me know!)

Before I close this blog, I gotta say, the advertisement for this movie was done very dirty! Like i don’t know what it is, but I felt we hardly saw any promotional work for this movie, it the same thing that happen with Disney’s Strange world. If there was, I probably missed a lot because I felt there wasn’t much ads for this movie, and because of it, I felt it didn’t get the recognition it deserved. So if you made it this far whether you seen this movie or you haven’t to please go watch Wendell and Wild, I promise you will have a good time and a wonderful experience watching this movie. I can’t wait to show the drawing. And I just needed to talk about this, as it one of my favorite stop motion films, I can’t wait to see where Wendell and wild go, and hope we get more of it. Even if we do get a sequel, I hope we see more of hell maidens and of Kat’s journey with her demons and her friends. hope you enjoyed. Phantom. Out.

[miniscule-meow]

Isabell and the Lads (5)

Word Count: ~1.8k

Masterpost

First Part | Last Part | Next Part

“Hey.” The word rumbles around her, dragging her from her sleep. His fingertip nudges lightly against her shoulder. She lets out a small yelp as her eyes shoot open. It is darker in the room than it was before. A small light illuminates from the living room, silhouetting the gargantuan being before her. His hand is far too close, one fingertip still resting against her shoulder. He’s leaned in to look at her, she can see his smile glint in the darkness. Maybe it would have been reassuring if he was properly lit, or if they were the same size. But as it stands, his shadow is stretched over her, covering her completely. It feels quite menacing. She painfully pushes herself to a sitting position and shoves herself back, trying to create some more space between herself and the human looming over her. What a wakeup call. She groans, immediately wincing at the movement. She feels absolutely wretched. Her body is sore and aching, she feels stale from crying and her head rings with a dull pulse left over from the alcohol.

“Hey, you’re okay.” He says softly, “I’ve got you, it’s okay.” His hand slides forward again, finding it’s way behind her. His warm fingers press into her back, offering- no, insisting their support. She cringes away from them. Marcus is obviously ignorant to the fact that he is exactly her problem. “You were asleep for a couple hours. Zeke went to bed, and I’m here to watch over you. I figured you could use something more comfortable than a paper towel to sleep on, so…” he draws out the word as he produces a shoe box, setting it on the counter next to her. “I put this together for you. I think you’re gonna like it.”

The hand that rests against her back shifts. His thumb snakes around to her front, gently pinching her in his grasp. His other fingers curl in around her, offering their support. Her heart hammers in her chest, she can’t breathe. His fingers aren’t squeezing the air out of her, it’s her own anxiety doing that. Though, his fingers do press into the myriad of bruises decorating her ribs. She cries out in a mixture of alarm, discomfort, and panic. “Relax, I’ve got you.” Against her will, her body lifts from the counter, and she is placed inside the box. “There.” He withdraws his hand. “Nice right? It’s like your own little bedroom.” He grins at his cleverness, wanting her to be pleased. Her head whips around seeing no doors, only walls.

“L-let me out.” She turns up to face him, wide eyed.

“Listen, Zeke is already asleep, and I have to go to bed soon too. I don’t want you running off and hurting yourself in the middle of the night when neither of us are awake to help you. Okay?”

“Let. Me. Out!” She shouts up at him, more insistently this time. Her voice is tight with panic.

“In the morning.” He says again, she gets the feeling that he's not going to budge on this. “Get some rest, okay?” With that, he disappears from her sky, leaving her to helplessly look around her cardboard prison.

There’s a bottle cap of water, and a folded up paper towel with some fruit on it that captures her interest. In the other corner of the box there’s a plush rectangle with some squares of fabric draped over it. A bed. Or at least, an attempt at a bed.

Isabell makes a b-line for the food first. Part of her thinks that it might be a bad idea to trust food given to her by a human, but it’s just a passing thought. She is so hungry, and it all looks so perfect. If somehow this food is going to kill her, at least she will die happy.

She hasn’t been able to get her hands on fresh fruit in a very long time. And when she was able to get it, it was typically just a small crushed berry. But now she has apple slices, and banana slices, strawberries, and blue berries.

She feels better once she’s eaten her fill. She carefully wraps a small chunk of apple up in some of the paper towel it was sitting on and stows it away in her pack. For later, because she is getting out of here and she might not ever get to have apples again. Hopefully she can make it home before it gets too mushy. Though, things aren’t looking good for her considering they put her in a box.

She moves awkwardly with the bandage on her leg, limping over to the wall. If she had any of her climbing equipment on her she might have been able to scale it. But without it, she is trapped. She goes over and flops into the bed. It’s soft, she’ll give it that. Though she feels just as tired, it takes longer for her to fall asleep this time. Her mind just keeps spinning, trying to form a plan. But she’s too tired, and everything seems too helpless. She drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

She wakes up several times. Eventually, the light in the room has shifted enough that she figures it’s almost morning. When she moves, she feels like death warmed over. She wants to just drift back to sleep until the humans get up and decide what to do with her. But that feels too much like giving up. She’s not about to ride the slippery slope from shoe box to proper cage. She forces herself to get up, and look around again for anything she can use for an escape.

The base of the bed was a sponge, wrapped in cloth. With great effort she shoves the blankets off and stands the sponge-mattress up against the wall. It isn’t quite tall enough. She tosses the water out of the bottle cap, after greedily drinking from it one last time. Then she uses the cap as a final step on top of her makeshift staircase. Stepping back, she admires her handywork.

It is... precarious to say the least. If she wasn’t injured, she might be less weary. But she’s been left with little choice. Her legs shake as she pulls herself over the side of the box. She takes extra care in making sure that she lands only on her good leg when she drops down to the counter below.

Now she just has to get down. She frowns, looking over the edge of the counter and seeing the long drop to the floor. She looks across the counter for anything that might be helpful, and she sees her rope! One of the humans took it down from the cabinet, but left it on the counter in a heap. She’s saved!

She begins the long and arduous process of scaling down to the floor. It’s a familiar journey, it just takes more than twice as long to complete. She can’t afford to burst a stitch here. She picks her way to the floor, being as slow and methodical as possible.

Once she gets to the bottom, she pulls the release on her knot, and it falls down to her. She coils it and attaches it back to its rightful spot on her pack. She just has to get across the apartment, under the entertainment stand and through the baseboard to get home. Her heart soars, but she doesn’t let herself celebrate for too long, that’s still a lot she needs to accomplish. She walks through the kitchen, hugging the wall just to be safe.

The kitchen opens up into the living room. The door to the apartment is to her right, there’s a hallway to her left. She’ll have to cut across the gap in the hall, but then she can hug the wall the rest of the way to freedom. Marcus is out in the living room, asleep on the couch with a controller in his hand. Whatever game he was playing is paused on the screen. This is just too easy.

Until it isn’t. She swears she hears fate itself laughing at her as a door down the hallway opens, then shuts, the other human stepping out into the hall. Zeke is awake.

She slams herself against the baseboard, hoping that the overhang of the cabinet is enough to obscure her from his view. Maybe he won’t even look down here. She feels like she jinxed herself as soon as she thinks that. The human pauses next to her, his socked feet falling still, close enough she could lean out and touch him. Thankfully, he doesn’t catch her, he looks over to his sleeping roommate.

“Marcus.” He pauses, no response. Zeke sighs and walks over to the couch, nudging him awake. “Marcus.” He repeats.

“Ah- What?” He mumbles groggily, screwing up his face, blinking at the dim light of sunrise hitting his eyes.

“Where’s Isabell. You said you’d keep an eye on her.”

“I am, I am.” He insists groggily.

“You were obviously sleeping," Zeke retorts, unamused.

“No, I know. She’s in the box on the counter.” He slurs through his words, falling back asleep as he speaks them.

“You put her in a box?! Damnit Marcus.” Zeke huffs, sounding incredibly frustrated. Marcus jolts at his tone, rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself up.

“What? I wanted to keep her safe while we were both sleeping. You would have done the same thing.” He says, defensively.

“No. I really wouldn’t have.” Zeke’s footsteps thunder past her as he quickly steps across the room. Alarms go off in her mind.

Things are much more complicated now. Marcus gets up and goes to mess with the game systems in the entertainment stand. He’s crouching right over where she needs to go for her escape. But more alarmingly, Zeke is checking the box that she has notably, escaped from.

“Shit.” He says quietly. “Marcus, your stupid plan didn’t even work.” He grumbles, looking back to his friend.

“What?”

“She’s gone.” He says simply.

“What?!” Marcus repeats obviously flustered, leaping to his feet.

“Stop! Marcus don’t move.” Zeke raises his voice, freezing Marcus in his tracks. She gets the impression that that isn’t something he does a lot. “Listen to me. Be. Very. Careful. Watch where you walk, okay?”

“What do you think I would-” Marcus begins, but Zeke must have flashed him a pretty severe look, because he stops. “Never mind. Uh. I’ll just… I’ll just stay here.” He carefully settles back down onto the floor. Placing himself unmoving right in front of where she needs to go. Damn it. “She probably didn’t get far, right? She might be on the counter still. I don’t know how she could have gotten down. Check behind stuff, maybe?” Marcus rambles, trying to be helpful.

“Thank you. Marcus.” Zeke says in a short clip. Obviously annoyed by Marcus’s chatter. Marcus takes the hint and shuts up. Zeke carefully beings picking through the countertop.

“Isabell.” He calls her name gently, sending eerie chills down her spine. “Please don’t hide. It’s a lot safer if we can see you.”

This is as good of a window she’s going to get. He’ll turn his attention to the floor when he’s done with his search of the counter. She has to get moving. Small bump in the plan, not a big deal, she tells herself. She’ll just have to take a detour.

[annieshubblecreations]

Story time:

I’m an artist! Whoo! I recently finished this painting, no reference, just exploration, and… I hate compliments on it.

Why? Like, asking the universe, asking myself, why do I hate compliments on it?

And I received a comment on it on Instagram: “I would buy a painting from you!”

And I said thank you and I wanted to throw up.

This painting will sit and it will probably be put up in an art show I have in 2025. Why do I hate positivity towards it?

It’s because it’s not what I want to create.

I’ve been an artist ever sense I found out as a kid that Pokémon were drawn. And I would say that: “I want to be an artist!” So I was thrown into art classes — but it wasn’t what I wanted to learn. (Useful! But still.) And I went to college for art and was seen as a Creative and told “here’s art with a specific job!” And I went into scenic design. In graduate school for scenic design, I had to take a costuming class. I took too long designing the characters and I spent too much free time writing my book (which, fuck you, I published it) and I was told to stop doing anything but scenic design. I needed to stop drawing people.

I dropped out. I later got a MA in Illustration.

But now I’m disabled and our economy sucks and I have a full time desk job and a part time art teaching job that I had to cause because of my health.

This painting was the last thing I created in the classes. It represents the only art I know that people will actually give me money for because… I can do it in my sleep, from the intense training I had when I was able to absorb and had passion and energy and didn’t have fifteen diagnoses.

I want to draw characters and be a character designer and comic artist and I hate I can’t. I hate I can’t produce quickly, I still need to Really Pay Attention to anatomy, that consistency is so hard. And I have a full comic planned. A full five arcs. And I hate so much of my art because I can’t do what I’ve wanted to do since I found out what manga WAS.

I hate this painting because it was goodbye to the one art income I had because the number of hours caused me to have a pseudo stroke and my brain isn’t connecting right to my body all the time and

What if I lose myself before I can even share what I want?

(Also, the other part of myself screams that all art is worth money, not just my fucking paintings)

((It’s okay to compliment the painting, I just need to express my frustration and that might end up being the burning of this))

(((But hey, link to my Etsy in my profile)))

[leefi]

The Flower that Bloomed Nowhere Read-through | Part 7: 90-100

Part 1: 1-14 | Part 2: 14-22 | Part 3: 22-34 | Part 4: 34-64 | Part 5: 64-80 | Part 6: 81-90 | Part 7: 90-100 | Part 8: 100-127 (caught up here)

Bal is soooo funny for choosing to simply sit out and wait the loop. If that were me I’d be acting out. I’d be skipping around the sanctuary acting mischevious and committing hooliganry. Hey does Fang have loop memories

SU NAME REVEAL!!! KUROKA!

raises hand. I have another question. did samium also fuck that old man

Shiko is so sweet oh my goddddd 😭 I wonder if Kuroka fell in love with her...

I hadn't even realized how much of a fan I was. That another me had been growing on those lonely nights, only waiting for someone to draw it out.

Even though it was such a small thing, for the first time, I felt like I was able to be someone other than myself. Someone who shined brightly.

Just like her. AWWWUWYYYYYYUUUUWUWUUUUUUUU!!!!! AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

"Fang, Su, have you still got enough eris for barriers?"

Fang looked at their scepter, making a thoughtful hum. "Yeah, for a few minutes."

I thought Fang didn’t have their scepter?

Another thing I'd failed to understand at the time was that this was largely by design. Replicating high-quality food was impossibly cheap, and a low-hanging fruit in terms of helping people's quality of life. It was the politics of spite, or 'tough love' if you wanted to be charitable; choosing not to help others for no reason other than them having not earned it, or at least treating it as not worth the infinitesimally minor inconvenience to their betters.

oh i dont like this worldbuilding that much anymore

“Nowadays you can get your nutrition managed with pills anyway. It's not like when we were kids, when it actually mattered what you ate."

"There's still no long-term research into the subject," [Shiko]’s mother replied, frowning. "And besides, it's not simply a matter of health. There are social consequences to having a limited palate."

“social consequences”? lets kill her

"I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt to be a little more conscientious," Shiko's mother insisted, holding up a hand. "And I know I've only been here for a couple of years now, but I really don't think it's that bad. Some parts in town seem a little deprived, but the theater is nice, and I've never had any trouble finding anything from the shops. It's hardly Altaia or Old Yru, but it's not as though we're eking out a living on the Lower Planes."

KUROKA BABY IM GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THERE. IM GONNA GET YOU OUT

Shiko’s granddad and Samium were conspiring to use her???? “Get the drop on her”???????? I mean this isn’t anything we didn’t already know but hearing them speak so plainly and shamelessly about it IN HER HOUSE is repulsive

I'd done a lot of stuff for a person my age, especially if you counted the stuff from-- Well, you know. I'd traveled by carriage, bus, tram, vacuum tram, boat and airship. I'd been to seven different countries and lived in four. I'd played in an amateur sport team (assuming chess counts as a sport).

it does not

Ophelia had been unspokenly left out as well; she apparently produced such an aura of eternal femininity that our minds had just silently registered it as the correct call after we'd only been able to find three shovels in the greenhouse.

also me if im being completely honest. *the gorillas get released* sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry

Hey while they’re digging I’ve been thinking. using the dying gods as their proxy has me wondering if this really is an integrated pneuma in some person enacting its long thought out (hehe) revenge. But that doesn’t explain multiple culprits especially considering they’ve been referring to death with different gendered pronouns

She looked between us. "Questions?"

Linos looked to the side. "Uh, do you see any problems with the plan, Zeno?"

There was a pause, then an approving thump from the luggage pile.

funniest character

a possible explanation for many of these contradictions was that there wasn't just one 'mastermind', but competing groups.

One calls it 'master'. The other calls it 'Her'...

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES. It's almost like...a battle of wills? A battle of competing ideologies?

"I think I-- I think I have a hernia," I said weakly.

"What you have is a case of the weeny-whinies.” THE WEENY WHINIES!!!!

KAMRANSU SWEEP!!! im doing yuri multiplication in my head rn

hum. "Indeed, you've stumbled upon the fundamental issue. After all, if what we inhabit is not the true reality, but merely the product of a physical process within another, it seems very improbable for our 'creators' to be playing with tools akin to our own. Our very conception of inter-dimensional spacetime - and the associated concepts of entropy, movement, and finite energy - could be nothing more than an amusing fabrication, with no bearing on actual physics."

Kind of like how a two-dimensional creature can only interpret a 3-dimensional world from a 2-dimensional perspective, and a 3-dimensional creature can only interpret a 5th-dimensional world from a 3rd and simplified 4th dimensional perspective…but what defines “actual?“ is any of your universe “actual”, for that matter? You have no confidence that your reality is real beyond the myths you’ve heard of the ironworkers. I don't mean to explicitly suggest this is a simulation by any means, but rather...I'm thinking back to Zeno's question. "Why turn back the self when you can turn back the world?". Well, if you're conflicted on what a "self" constitutes, it only follows to reason that the nature of the world around you too would also fall into question...

Well, that depends, Utsushikome. Do you believe a pawn is destined only to look across at its rival pieces for eternity, by its very nature?" She stabbed her fork into a tomato, spilling its red fluid. "Or, perchance, might it learn to crane its neck towards heaven?"

My eyes drifted from the tower towards the ceiling of the bioenclosure proper. The blackness.

Slowly, I clicked my tongue. OHHHHOHOHOHOGOGOGOGOGOOGOGOGOHOHHOHHOOHHOOHOGOGOGOGOYOYO RHHEEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHE

She nodded several times, like I'd said something profound. "Yes. That's it exactly." She exhaled. "It's cowardice. People are afraid of death, so they try to turn it into something it isn't. Something beautiful and cathartic, something symbiotic with humanity, just like Grandmaster Melanthos was talking about. So they don't have to face the truth that it was all for fucking nothing. That being mortal is an accident of material circumstance, just as much as hunger or, or-- I don't know, going *bald*.” 🦍

"When people think of truly eternal lives, of sticking not just a few more centuries on the pile but outlasting the lifespan of stars, the scope of the proposition is harrowing. What would we become, in trying to achieve true stability as creatures of chaos and change? Could we?" Her voice grew a little quieter; solemn, almost. "What would we do, without that option to simply fade away?" She looked towards me. "What do you think, Su?"

I went for a third round of blinking, just to emphasize the point.

Why does [Kam] always single me out in these conversations?

big ass crush on you

Ohhh Kam is a 60 year old minor! Cool!

Even though she'd dismissed questions on the subject with an affect of far-sightedness back in the transpositioning chamber, the fact of the matter was that people our age getting stressed out about their own mortality was freakishly rare; I'd literally never met another person quite like [Kam].

This trait she and I share. I was having existential breakdowns at the tender age of 5

Ohhh Su is in her early-mid thirties! Okay yeah that checks out with her mental illness

You're only 32, Su," she said, frowning. "It's a little early to making world-weary statements like that, don't you think?

*looks at su* *looks at orv*

*looks back at su*

Of all the years I could live, could thrive, until all those regrets are nothing more than a single drop in a vast lake. I'm sure the same is true for you, too."

This really was out of character for her. I felt a complicated feeling in my chest. "That's, uh... Kam..."

"Is this really the right time for this?" Ran asked flatly. "The philosophy was one thing, but this is getting weirdly romantic."

Kam scoffed, making a gesture of distaste. "Don't be peculiar, Ran."

KAMSU SWEEP WE HAVE LITEREALLY NEVER BEEN MORE BACK THAN WE ARE RIGHT NOW

"Perfect," Kam said, stepping towards it immediately.

"Feels a little weird to be looting the dead," I said, glancing around.

"This is no time for sentiment, Su," Kam replied. She walked up to the cabinet in question and, after unsuccessfully trying the lock, took the butt of her refractor rifle and shattered it, before casting it aside and sliding the larger weapon out.

this actually became a COD lobby im crying

saw Samium lying down in the bed, eyes half-open, staring at the ceiling. Other than the fact that there was a book by the side that seemed to be gone now - fiction, probably, the cover depicting a ship - that felt a little confusing. So he could read a novel, after all? Or maybe someone had left it here?

Ship of Theoseus chan?

Why did the playwright just look at me

"Okay, so. Here's the thing," they said. "The monster might be, uh, real."

SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPP

WE HAVE LITERALLY NEVER BEEN MORE BACK THAN THIS MOMENT FOLKS THIS IS IT. THIS IS REAL. IT'S HAPPENING

Okay for all my excitement about the beast is there any way to check if that’s actually the phantasm conjuring arcana they talked about earlier? Could explain the grim reaper but I don’t remember if it could produce sound or not…or how big it could get. Could also just be a really advanced golem since the power was active while this was happening? (And that was the negating factor when they were debating COBD (cause of Bardiyas death before))

I’m pretty sure the beak thing is actually real though, so many people have corroborated it. The beast only showed up while people were panicking

Man I wouldn’t be surprised if this conversation with Samium we’re seeing over the logic thing concluded with Su pushing him out the window. my rationale towards this is would that be fucking crazy or what

So, this sounds like it's coming from way off in the distance-- Like really far down the hall, or behind a wall, or something. Now, I'm getting a really bad vibe at this point,

Have i mentioned yet how much I love fang

Ann says we should just gun it." Anna's eyes narrowed slightly at her name being shortened, but didn't interject.

Have i mentioned yet how much i LOVE fang

I said something stupid about hiding up in the armory, maybe grabbing some of the grenades, so we went all the way up

they are addicted to those grenades

If Ptolema thinks the beast is fake then I believe that it's fake. She’s consistently proven to have the best observational skills of the entire group, picking things up that other people don’t see. As she says, she's got the mind of a surgeon. She knows how a body is meant to be built and interact with its environment. Believe women!!!! Ema sweep!!!!

Can I be honest. Creepy children’s stories scare me so much and I could barely get through that one barn quest in Cyberpunk 2077 and this children's slideshow with the piglet is reminding me of that. I literally couldn’t sleep for a few days after playing that. Anyway. Animal Farm? because there is a farm with animals

no i'm being deadass was that an animal farm redux. it felt like an animal farm redux

It would be so funny if Fang acted the way they do because something was wrong with them. But it would be even funnier if they're just like this

[tamberlanecomic]

The Tamberlane Patreon is the absolute best way to support the comic and its continued creation! But as a creator with chronic health issues and a desire to have my dedicated team of helpers focus more on the creation of the comic, I’ve made a few adjustments to my Patreon tiers and rewards.

You can read a full list of the changes and full transparency about why they were made here in this public Patreon entry, but here are some of the more major changes I felt were worth noting:

Monthly Tales From Treehollow Comics and Short Stories

Tales from Treehollow are one-off comics and illustrated short stories that expand upon the world and lore of Tamberlane. They were released exclusively to patrons, then after three months were listed in the Tamberlane Shop for public sale between $3-5. While we love Tales from Treehollow as a great way to share more stories from the universe, they are unfortunately VERY expensive to produce and garner little interest, even from Patrons. For my number nerds out there, check out this Patreon newsletter for a detailed breakdown of what all goes into creating just one of these publications.

Does that mean we won’t have the occasional one-off story? Heck no! It just means they will now be created on an occasional basis depending on workloads and budget instead of monthly.

The good news is you can purchase all available Tales from Treehollow short stories and comics here, starting at just $3.

Shop All Tales from Treehollow Downloads Here

Character Cameos in the Comic

For a long while, we were offering patrons the ability to have their personal characters appear in the comic and, in some cases, become recurring characters. While this worked great for a while, we’ve run into the issue of far too many cameos we still need to catch up on. We will be fulfilling all outstanding cameo requests to the best of our ability while still putting the integrity of the story first, but going forward cameo opportunities will no longer be a Patreon perk. Instead, when we have cameo needs they will be available for purchase.

Read more information about how character cameos will work going forward here in this public Patreon entry.

Commissions

Originally, $50+ reward commissions were quarterly full-body sketches. For the new system, these will be changed to sketched busts, drawn every two months. These are significantly easier for me to draw, and there are a lot of them. This will make it easier to keep up while drawing the comic, and will mean that $50+ members will get twice as many commissions as before!

In line with this, $100+ members will be able to have their busts drawn with flat color as opposed to sketched, also on the every-other-month schedule instead of quarterly!

These busts can also be turned into Telegram/chat stickers!

$250 commissions are now going to be 1-hour illustrations with a list of limitations. I kept going above and beyond on my commissions but it kept me from getting any other work done, so I’m being firm and limiting myself to 1 hour only.

Here are some examples of what 1-hour commissions look like:

Thank You!

All that said, thank you to everyone who supports me and my work! My health has been an up and down journey, and by making these changes, my hope is that not only will patron members have a bit more clarity about what they’re receiving, but that I will have an easier time managing things and delegating as much of the non-art related tasks to my team. We want the comic to come out consistently and at its best, and this will help continue to make that happen!

Subscribe to the Tamberlane Patreon today to get in on lots of goodies and help keep the comic going!

Become A Patron