#made with mischief

[maebird-melody]

Found this while going through my old Mischief files. That was such a good art program and I can’t believe it still works. Gonna be drawing on it more I think.

[pippatis]

Rediscovered a simple but effective drawing program called Mischief and decided to return to my roots and draw some dragons. Had a blast.

Last one is the dragon on the cover of the second Dracopedia book, both of which were my biggest inspiration growing up. If you like dragons, I highly recommend giving them a look.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael Afton rating his FNAF animatronics,,

[ultravioletbrit]

“numb” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 532 words

Part 5/5 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

“Speak.” Sirius is standing in front of Regulus with his arms crossed.

“I’m not a dog, Sirius.” Regulus says, rubbing his ear that’s gone numb after Sirius used it to drag him across the room.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, please regale us with your ever heroic tale.” Sirius says overdramatically.

“Not much to say.” Regulus shrugs. “I left home, transferred schools and I start here next week.” Sirius just stares at Regulus for a moment.

“That’s it? You left? Just like that?” Sirius asks after a minute.

“Well, I left a note.” Regulus says casually.

“And you thought the best way to tell me this was to accost my best mate?”   

“That part was an accident.” Regulus tells him.

“Happy, right? Happy accident?” James speaks up.

“James, twenty minutes ago you thought he was a crazy person.” Sirius points out.

“I still kind of do. But he’s gorgeous and what’s life without a little risk?” James winks at Regulus.

“You need to sort out your priorities.” Sirius shakes his head at James.

“Plus, he’s related to you, he can’t be that insane.” James continues.  

“That is very flawed reasoning.” Regulus tells James. “Besides, you chose to be friends with him, I should be the one judging your sanity.”

“Don’t worry James, I chose to be your friend too. You’re just as sane as I am.” Sirius pats James on the shoulder.

“That’s a scary thought.” James and Regulus say at the same time and turn to look at each other. James smiles at Regulus and Regulus bites to inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling back. This only makes James’ smile grow wider.  

“What’s going on here?” Sirius asks, looking back and forth between them. James and Regulus continue to stare at each other for several moments before James clears his throat.

“Sirius… could you… err…” James says and nods his head towards the other room.

“What?” Sirius asks.

“Just…” James nods more firmly.

“What?” Sirius puts his hands on his hips.

“Sirius, just for like two minutes, could you go. in. there.” James nods his head on each of the last words.

“Nice one, James.” Regulus says sarcastically. “Very smooth.”

Sirius glares at James but eventually relents and stomps into James’ bedroom.

“Fine! I’ll be in your bedroom, making no noise and pretending I’m not there.” Sirius slams James’ bedroom door and proceeds to make as much noise as possible.

James and Regulus look at each other and roll their eyes at Sirius’ dramatics.

“So…” James starts. “About giving me your number…” He smiles and takes out his phone.

“You never quit, do you?” Regulus asks.

“Oh, c’mon. I face death.” James nods once again towards Sirius. “In the hope that you will please give me your number.”

“He would never kill you. Only maim, or seriously injure.” Regulus smirks. Then he glares at James for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I have a feeling it’s not good.” Regulus finally lets himself smile at James.

“Oh, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” James smirks at Regulus.  

Regulus rolls his eyes, but nevertheless, he reaches over and takes James’ phone to add his number.  

[rockpaperscissuhs]

BAND OF BROTHERS: EPISODE ONE + my favorite closeup shots

[elvisqueso]

— "...What do you say to a tree??"

Pocahontas (1995)

Bonus:

[lennadanvers]

Hiii, what about Eddie dressing up as a jock for Halloween? Covering up all his tattoos, finding a short brown wig, wearing jeans without any rips and a varsity jacket?

And when people ask about it, he just tells them "monsters are everyday people" or some shit like that.

[nintenka]

DAYS OF MISCHIEF 2024

happy halloween! 🕯️🎃

i tried my best to squeeze in a halloween piece before it was too late LMAOO

[sapphic--kiwi]

fast food on a second (official) date at sunset 💙🤎

my finished piece for @tohmirageandmischief !! the full zine is out and completely free to download 💜 lots of talented artists and writers contributed and i recommend checking it out!

[threepandas]

Bad End: Stolen

I was furious.

Terrified. Completely enraged. Sick to my stomach. Overwhelmed and yet expected to function. To keep my shaking hands smooth and screaming thoughts orderly. All I wanted to do want scream. Cry. Destroy and destroy, weep and RAGE.

Then hide in a closet under blankets until the monsters went away.

But... but he wasn't going too, was he?

"Ah, my honored Sister, how good of you to join me." Greets the murderer before me, voice cool and smooth like the scales of a snake. There is a gleefully victorious lilt to that voice. A curling possessiveness to the title.

I am not his sister. We are not ever REMOTELY related. It is not even a matter of me disowning him for what he's down. It is simple truth. We are not, by blood, related. We were not RAISED together. Our relation? A farce. A legal machination by my... my Father, oh gods... No! Don't get swallowed by the memories! T-The blood. Focus!!

Fafnir is... WAS just one of many promising, talented, ambitious young men with no father's that DEFINITELY were my Father's bastard sons, no really. He most certainly wasn't COLLECTING meritorious youth into our house, under his name, and training them up with his wealth and influence. To bypass the bullshit class system and give them a chance at better lives!

Maybe suggest they pay it forward.

My father would never be so duplicitous. No, no, he was just a very lustful man... that no one ever saw going out to have sex. Who's wife had never been the least bit upset with him. And to whom he was fiercely loyal. Yes. Very, very lustful my father... w-was.

It was just while the family continued it's work on opening up opportunities for the lower classes. Jobs and better quality of life. Hospitals and schools. Fighting against those who benefited from nothing changing. It was slow. Like pulling teeth. The work of lifetimes, he'd said. I... I was expected to help continue it.

I'd been GLAD too. So utterly RELIEVED I was reborn into a house with some fucking sense of RESPONSIBILITY. Duty and honor and taking care of people! Building up social services! I had grand plans. Even after recognizing, a little alarmed, that I was on the fringe of a god damned OTOME game of all things.

One I barely remembered. Had played, loved most likely, as a preteen. A literal lifetime ago.

It didn't effect me, right? I wasn't here for boys or parties. Politics or fanciful dreams. Let someone else have their lace filled, flower coated, high drama adventures of love. I had late night paperwork and community research. Surprise to orphanages and hospitals to insure their was no corruption or mischief going on.

That one health clinic in Oakworth that took forever to get going.

Except...

Except??

Fafnir was a capture target! Which is why it took me forever to realize. As he had been so very small and filthy at first. Then merely small and in poor health. Short hair because his poor hair had been beyond saving. We passed by each other. Nodded, maybe exchanged pleasantries, but did not truely interact.

He lived in the dorms. I lived in the main house. He was basicly a student my father was paying to have taught, using our name. I was my father's actual daughter. We may have LEGALLY been related. LEGALLY brother and sister. But in actuality? We were no such thing.

Honestly, most of the "Sons"? Kept their original last names in day to day life.

Or at least... they did.

I.. I think I had shit taste, as a preteen. That or my luck has finally run out. Maybe it was my family's fortune, that finally could no longer best the odds. After all, there is always one. That ONE soul. Who sees something good and doesn't care about anything or anyone but themselves. Ruins things for everyone.

As long as they get their's, right?

A sea of motivated and ambitious young men. Trying to change their station in life. Have Better and MORE. Change the world around them. Leave their marks. Is... ha! Is it any wonder, in hindsight, that our luck eventually gave out? It was always going too. I guess Fafnir just wanted MORE.

He was supposed to go to the Royal Academy, fall in love. Compete against prince's and duke's, knights and heirs to merchant companies. All for the heart of the only daughter of a Ducal house, that had been (of course) raised by peasants. A carriage accident and presumed death cliché.

I honestly couldn't even remember his route. I might have read about it. But had never PLAYED it. He had had short hair, all but two had. So I played the foriegn prince route, even though he was kind of an ass. He was a handsome one at least. At least to me. It was just, I had never... still never...

I liked men with long hair.

Something which I had never told anyone.

Yet? As Fafnir grew? He did not transition into the character I remembered, like the others had. He grew his hair out. Became not only fiercely protective of it, but invested in higher quality products to care for it. Discovered my favorite perfume maker and commissioned a cologne for himself, that would mix well with the scent I always wore. Systematically tracked down each and everything I've ever liked, behind my back, to consume and memorize every facet of them.

I was blind to it.

My Father was not.

And... a-and... it cost him his life.

Father was not pleased with want he saw. But assumed it was a crush at first. We were young after all. Young people do weird, awkward, over the line things. Are learning about boundaries even as they grapple with sudden floods of hormonal shifts. A terrible time, really. It could be excused. As long as it didn't go TOO far. So long as someone sat Fafnir down for a talk.

They did.

He got more subtle.

A cycle developed. One my Father was not pleased to see. Fafnir would cross boundaries, be caught, get scolded, and contritely apologize... then get more subtle in his approach. Be more clever. As though all he had learned was "don't get caught". and "if you want to get, what you want to have, you need to have the skills to get passed us."

He grew concerned. Eventually, alarmed. I had thought nothing of it, back then, because "of COURSE he was supposed to go" to the Royal Academy? But... we honestly, really, Truely? HADN'T sent anyone there before. And there HAD been far more skilled boy then him. Prodigies.

But... my favorite ribbon necklace had gone missing.

From the room where I slept.

Overnight.

My Father took one look at Fafnir's pleased expression amongst the chaos and needed no further proof. He would not kick him out. Far too dangerous, he thought. But he WOULD send him away. Now?

Now I wish he'd risked it. Because... because everyone was dead. Struck down by the monster we let into our home. And by ancient law, which we both KNEW he was planning to exploit? This was a... a "family matter". Because, after all, we WERE legally family. Members of the same House.

"Such hesitation, Sister. You'd think I was a threat." He muses into his cup of tea, swirling it lightly. His eyes flit back to me, lips curling just slightly. "Don't worry, though. I understand completely. I would never hurt you."

But he would hurt others. He already has. Most of them didn't survive it. Ha ha... like a brutal yank on some unseen leash. I want to cry. Not sure if this is what shock feels like. But yes, thank you, for the lovely remind, Fafnir. That you have filled my home with bodies. The corpses of those I loved.

I use what little dignity I have left to walk forward and sit down.

Oh look, he has utterly ruined all my favorite things in one blow. There, my favorite tea. That, my favorite flower. Across the table my favorite snacks. Even a few favorite fruits. A dish or two. My favorite cup. And now? N..NOW? All I will every be able to associate with them is death. The stench of copper and the horror of this moment.

The joy of them is gone.

"See? Isn't that better? No more standing awkwardly to the side. Now we can sit, face to magnificent face. I've brought you a few things I know you'll enjoy. Isn't that nice? I've wanted to do this for the longest time." He sighs in contentment, as though this were no more then a matter of busy schedules and social anxiety. "And now? Now we are finally together. Siblings for now, but I am working to fix that. And if i can't, well..."

His smirk was a thing of nightmares.

"I'm head of the house now. You're finally Mine."

[mordremrose]

ART PARTY BABEY HAPPY PRIDE

Enjoy ur bees, give magic swords to little girls and baked beans to slublings— and be wary of rogue noodles

EU doodles: my own Mehndra, Hey Barbie, Tai of the Order and their cursed snack choices, the never ending bench, Strongessst, Necrotechnician Fip, Soft Skunk, Ruárn and Lux Pyrefaith

NA doodles: Khynain (ft a very tiny goofy version of my lad Draikôs) Wet Gunk, Harley Vuong, Tine of Nice Dreams, Kimber Truthspeaker, Zuutes and Master Dokks

As always, if you would like to be tagged with your toon, please let me know!! Otherwise, enjoy ur mischief

[should-david-be-there]

david tennant w just a regular, completely normal, definitely not a stooge, audience member/hen party member/international tourist/loud snack eater/stalls row j seat 1 occupant

[peachesancreams]

Socialite

ok but within normal Batman DC like

Martha is was a Kane, and Thomas was everyone's favorite not sugar baby

it still works even if you see Thomas as the Sicilian jersey man (give me this man in a wife beater smoking through a pack after surgery sayin' the other docs ain't shit[the misogynists'] pLZ)

why? cause I want the socialite older sister he never got to know due to his dads younger days (either an arranged marriage that ended in divorce or she just wanted nothing to do with him cause hes a not so great guy, either way)

like her mother was one(a socialite) and now she is a leading fashion icon for gotham, so what do you mean the skrunly lookin' guy held up by the wall with the bombshell of a wife is her half-brother???

yes ok cool hes a doctor and he runs circles around the mafia, why is he dressed like he is homeless

nothing wrong with homelessness, but the guy HAS money, loads of it. w h y.

flash a lil forward to when they have their two gremlins around the same time

now baby!brucie is a sweetheart, lil guy is a Certified Angel Baby. His autistic eyes are large, observant, and full of curiosity

meanwhile the cousin was a menace to all, first time she was released onto the manor she colored a old painting, the walls, and Bruce. then got him to join in a cookie heist.

only got caught cause of Alfreds 6th sense for cookie thieves (theyre the og adhd baby is what they tell dickie later)

(bruce asked to be colorful "wanna look like mama" his cousin also scribbled on their face for solidarity!)

[inspo for martha an thomas influenced by @bruciemilf]

[cornleypolytechnicgoeswrong]

More of my favourite low effort CPDS Members as my screenshotted tiktok comments memes for you as an apology for being so inactive and proof I am still around hehe <33

[sincerely-sofie]

[akumastrife]

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