#so many different texture brushes were used

[kieraelieson]

A Visit From the Farrier

Set after the main section of the Centaur AU

Thomas yawned, sitting up. 

Things were moving slower now. It’s still a lot, caring for six centaurs, but nothing especially bad has happened in a bit. 

Thomas looked up and a bit to the side. His ‘bed’ was in the empty stall next to Roman’s. Roman seemed to still be asleep, standing with his upper body flopped against the centaur bed attached to the wall. It was a little strange for Roman to still be asleep, usually when Thomas woke Roman was already awake. 

There were soft sounds from nearby, probably Emile working on breakfast. He had very generously stepped into the position of breakfast maker most mornings. 

Not that it took too much work to open the packets, add water, and microwave. The Authiers mostly had provided pre-packaged centaur food. It was supposed to be healthy, with all the vitamins and minerals needed by a centaur in a day. But there sure wasn’t a lot of variety. There were a couple ‘different flavors’ that smelled roughly the same to Thomas, and all of them had the same shredded wheat kind of texture. He’d been bringing in as much human food as he could, trying to let them have something that actually tasted good. But the stable was small, and didn’t have a whole lot of extra storage space, much less a stove or a fridge. 

Thomas stood up and brushed off some of the hay sticking to him. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing yesterday, though, so was everyone else mostly. The centaurs weren’t used to pajamas, so they generally only changed if they felt their clothes were dirty. The exceptions were Remy and Emile, who were used to a bit finer of a lifestyle while living with Thomas. 

It was honestly a bit of a downgrade for them here. This stable was about the same size as Thomas’s, but had twice as many stalls inside it, and now three times as many centaurs. There wasn’t anything like a kitchen, much less one that centaurs could easily use, only a single microwave and some banged up plastic plates. 

Thomas opened the stall as quietly as he could and walked out to where Emile was, indeed, making breakfast for the centaurs. Thomas leaned heavily against his side, silent in the calm early morning. 

“Good morning,” Emile said quietly. 

“I appreciate you so much,” Thomas said in return. 

Emile huffed out a quiet laugh, reaching back to ruffle up Thomas’s hair. 

“The farrier comes today,” Thomas said, a yawn making him pause before he could keep speaking. “You and Remy aren’t quite due, but do you want to go ahead and get reshod anyway?” 

Emile considered, and then shrugged. “Might as well. If we will be staying here for the foreseeable future, lining up with this farrier’s schedule seems a good idea.” 

“I wish I knew them before now and could know what they’d be like,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “I guess after today we’ll know.” 

“He doesn’t tend to be too bad,” Roman said, apparently awake now and listening to their conversation. “Your biggest problem is going to be with Panic at the Everywhere.”

Thomas had guessed as much. Logan would need a bit of extra care to be sure his legs weren’t jostled too much, but Virgil was who he was most concerned about. He was by far the flightiest of the centaurs, and did not like strangers. Especially strangers touching him. And the farrier would be touching his feet, while Virgil tended to kick when nervous. It all didn’t add up to a great time. 

But Thomas had been getting a bit worried about Virgil’s hooves. He certainly could get himself around well, but he wasn’t walking quite right, and Thomas worried he might have a problem that would only get worse with time. 

“Or he could just leave me alone again,” Virgil said, his tone tinged with defensiveness. 

Thomas pursed his lips. He went over to Virgil’s stall. 

“I’m supposed to keep you safe and healthy,” Thomas started. 

Virgil scowled immediately. 

“I’ve been noticing that you can’t step flat on your hooves, and I’m worried that they might hurt you if they aren’t cared for.” 

“I don’t care what kind of nice words you wrap it in, I’m not letting some stranger come in here and cut parts of me off.” Virgil crossed his arms and turned his back on Thomas. 

Thomas’s mouth dropped open. That was. A way. To see it. “I mean… technically that’s how it works, but your hooves are just like your hair, or your fingernails. It won’t hurt you.” 

“I don’t care, I don’t like it, and I won’t stand for it.”

“I’m almost certain you’ll feel better after it’s done,” Thomas tried coaxing. “It has to be awkward to walk and run like you have been.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil insisted, still with his back turned to Thomas. He stamped one hoof against the floor of his stall. 

“You don’t have to throw a tantrum,” Roman said snappishly. “Everyone gets their hooves trimmed and gets shoes at one point or another.” 

“I don’t want to!” Virgil yelled, officially breaking the calm morning atmosphere. “I’m fine without shoes, I never had to have them! I can still run, I can still carry someone, and I can give a smoother ride than just about any damn person without shoes.” 

“Virgil,” Logan says. Just his name, but Virgil seems to deflate slightly. 

“Could we compromise?” Thomas tries. “Will you let the farrier look at your feet, and trim them so you can walk properly, and unless it’s medically necessary you don’t have to wear shoes.” 

Virgil turns to look at him, suspicion clear in his eyes. He grimaces. “Fine. I’ll try. But no promises.”

Emile came by then, passing out plates. 

“I guess I’ll go get my own breakfast,” Thomas said. “I should be back before the farrier arrives.” 

••^*^••

The farrier drove up to the stable in a large truck, the back of which was covered in tools. Thomas went out to meet him and see if he needed any help. 

“Hey there,” the man said cheerfully. “I heard there was a new groom.” 

“Thomas,” he said, holding out a hand and smiling. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. The guy seemed nice. 

“Jerry,” the farrier responded, shaking his hand firmly. “Just let me set up a little and then bring them out one at a time. Shouldn’t take too long.” 

“There’s actually two more centaurs,” Thomas said. “They were shod last about three and a half weeks ago, but I figured I’d get them all done at once.” 

Jerry started doing some things with his tools, setting up. “Huh. Alright, I think I can manage that. Five of em shouldn’t run me out of time, so long as they’re well behaved.”

“Uh, six,” Thomas corrected. 

Jerry turned to look at him with a reluctant grimace. “I’m sure you’ve experienced that that little black one is fuckin crazy. Last time I managed to actually touch his feet we had to hold him down with about six men, and even then one of em went home with a nasty bruise.”

Thomas winced slightly. “Yeah… well, I’m worried about his hooves. I guess he hasn’t been getting very regular care for them.” 

Jerry laughed drily. “Not much ‘care’ you can give one as jumpy as that.” 

“I’d still like us to try today,” Thomas said. 

Jerry sighed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll try. But I’ll be charging a fee for dangerous circumstances, and another for canceling on my other customer today. I certainly won’t be making it there in time.”

Thomas nodded firmly. “Thank you, Jerry. I appreciate it.” 

Jerry waved him off, continuing to set up. “You go ahead and make sure he’s got on a tight harness and blinders. Call over some more guys for when he flips his shit.” 

Thomas hesitated. 

Jerry scoffed. “What, unless you’re intending to sedate him for it?” 

“I’ll do my best to keep us safe,” Thomas promised. 

He started heading back to the stable, feeling the doubtful stare follow him. 

Once inside, he went to Logan first. Deal with the small problem, then all the (hopefully) easy ones, and finally tackle what seems like it’ll be a monster of a task. 

“Would you be ok with going first?” Thomas asked. 

“I don’t mind,” Logan said, straightening slightly. 

Thomas opened his stall. Of the centaurs that had been here before he showed up, only Virgil seemed willing to let himself in and out of his own stall. Patton would do it if he thought he had permission, but Roman and Logan always had to be let out by Thomas. It was odd, but Thomas didn’t want to push on something he could easily do for them. 

With a warning to the farrier, and Thomas standing beside watching, it actually goes quite smoothly. When he got back in the stable, Logan even said that it didn’t hurt his legs any more than they already hurt. Which, well, ideally Logan would be in no pain, but no increase in pain is pretty good too. 

The others go easily as well. Turns out Patton didn’t wear shoes very much, just kept up with trimming. It made sense, since he didn’t do much running around, and when he did it was on soft grass. 

A few hours later, everyone had been seen except for Virgil. Jerry was off taking a break for a bit while Thomas prepared Virgil for the shoeing. 

“It’s your turn next,” Thomas says gently. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” 

Virgil was twitchy. Had been since Remy went, with Remy being the last one other than him. He shifted and flinched at every tiny sound or movement near him. 

Virgil looked at Thomas, fear, and the difficulty he was having fighting it, plain on his face. His hands grip around his arms. 

“I— I probably shouldn’t be able to see it,” Virgil rasped out. “But don’t put something over my whole head!” 

“It’s ok,” Thomas said soothingly. “I’m not gonna do something like that.” 

He considered for a long few seconds. He really didn’t like putting blinders on centaurs. It felt dehumanizing. Oh! 

“What if you put on one of the hoodies and pull the hood up and forward? It’ll cover the sides of your vision, and it’ll be hard for you to look back at your hooves, but there will still be the whole front open for you.” 

Virgil blinked, stilling momentarily as he thought about the suggestion. “You… really? Just a hood?” 

Thomas shrugged. “I mean, unless you want something different. The problem here is that you’re scared of what will happen, so forcing you isn’t going to help, I want to work with you, and make it less scary.” 

Virgil looked at him like he was insane. “What, so you aren’t going to harness and hobble me?” 

“Not if I can help it,” Thomas said with a small smile. 

Virgil gestured towards the wall of the barn, or rather, through it to where he knew the farrier was. “He’s never gonna go along with that!”

“I’ll handle him,” Thomas promised. “You just tell me what you need.” 

Virgil bit his lip, frowning doubtfully. He crossed his arms, turning half away. 

“It would help if I knew what he was doing. Like… like you did with the brushing.” Virgil mumbled, not looking back at Thomas. 

Thomas was glad for the confirmation that his rambling at them had been actually helpful. “I can explain what he’s doing, so you don’t have to look, and you’ll still know what’s happening.”

Virgil nodded stiffly, his hand coming up to his mouth. He chewed on his thumbnail, his gaze starting to look a bit distant. 

It wasn’t ideal that he was learning dissociation from Logan, but if it could get him through a rough thing, Thomas wasn’t going to protest. Yet. 

“Is there anything else that could help?” Thomas asked gently. 

Virgil shrugged, and shivers ran over his flanks. 

“Alright, let me get that hoodie and then we’ll go outside, ok?” 

Virgil just shrugged again, but he didn’t seem able to stop twitching. 

Once Virgil had on the hoodie with the hood pulled up, Thomas handed him a halter. He still had to have halters on the centaurs whenever he left the stable with them, which felt ridiculous. 

He led Virgil out, feeling the slightest tremble through the lead. 

“It’s alright,” he reassured, bringing Virgil over to the truck. “I’ll be right here the whole time. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.” 

Virgil gave a jerky nod, squeezing his crossed arms tighter around his chest. 

“Oh hell no!” Jerry said loudly, coming back from his break. 

Virgil flinched, his stance stiffening. 

“I am not working on that centaur with only a fucking halter! He slips right out of those! You may be new, but I’ve dealt with him before, and this will not work. One of us is going to get kicked in the face before he runs all the way to the end of the property before anyone can get a rope over him.”

“It’ll be ok,” Thomas said firmly. “I’ve been working with the centaurs and it will be fine.” 

Jerry scowled at him. “You think you’re a fucking centaur whisperer or some shit?” 

“Yes,” Thomas said intensely. 

The farrier’s face twisted unpleasantly. “Yeah, she would hire a delusional fool,” he muttered under his breath. “Look, if I try with this one and he starts flipping his shit, I’m leaving. And I’m still billing till the end of the day.” 

“Deal,” Thomas said immediately. It wasn’t exactly his money to promise, but at the same time, he hadn’t gotten in trouble for spending too much yet. 

“But I’m not going within a yard of him till you hobble the feet I don’t have to be touching.” 

“It’s fine…” Virgil whispered.

Thomas looked up to see Virgil’s face was red with shame. Well, there went any good feeling he had left for Jerry. Officially in the asshole book now. 

Reluctantly, he went to get a hobble. 

Virgil got even more stiff and trembly with his legs hobbled. It must be nerve-wracking, tied in place with someone doing something scary to him. 

Thomas stroked his hand along Virgil’s side. “It’s alright, you’ll be ok.” 

Jerry finally approached, pulling up one of Virgil’s back hooves and pinning it between his legs. Virgil’s leg twitched and moved, but not enough to pull it free from the farrier’s grasp. 

“There you go,” Thomas soothed. “You’re doing great. He’s just gonna take a pick and clean your hoof first. Just like normal.” 

The farrier picked out Virgil’s hoof very quickly, quicker than Thomas could. He motioned to Thomas to come closer and look. 

“Well, he’s obviously not wearing shoes right now,” Jerry said. He pointed around the wall of the hoof. “You can see it’s definitely overgrown, I’m surprised he isn’t limping around. But see here on the toe, he’s grinding his hooves against concrete. That’s the only way they’re relatively even. But that makes the sides way too overgrown, especially compared to the toe and the frog. I didn’t look too close as you brought him over, but he’s gotta be walking funny.” 

Thomas nodded seriously. “Will a trimming help?” 

“I mean, of course it’ll help. But what he needs is shoes. And he’ll have to get used to walking on hooves that are trimmed right. You’ll need to watch him to be sure he doesn’t sprain one of his legs while he adjusts.” 

“I will,” Thomas promised. 

The farrier reached for another tool. 

Thomas set a hand on Virgil’s flank, trying to give some other touch for him to focus on. “Alright, bud, he’s got his hoof knife and he’s going to start trimming the dead parts of the frog.” 

There was a strangled, distressed sound from Virgil, and his leg pulled in the farrier’s grip. 

“Don’t you dare try and kick me,” Jerry muttered darkly, trying to move as quickly as he could on Virgil’s hoof. 

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re alright,” Thomas said soothingly, stroking along his side, which was beginning to feel damp with sweat. “It’s starting to look better already. Just getting the dead bits off. He’s working on cleaning up your sole now. He won’t cut any live parts, just the overgrown bits. Just like trimming fingernails.” 

Virgil was trembling beneath his hand. Thomas leaned heavily against his side. He seemed to feel better when Logan squished him, maybe the smaller pressure Thomas could provide would still be helpful. 

“You’re doing great, Virge,” Thomas praised. “Doing real well. He’s gonna take clippers now and trim the wall of your hoof. We’re getting close to done with this one. You’re doing so well.” 

And it was going well, until Thomas was too focused on Virgil to notice the farrier switching to the rasp. At the first movement, Virgil yanked his hoof back. 

“What’s that?!!” Virgil yelled, his voice high and stressed. 

“Shhh, shh, it’s ok,” Thomas said, trying to calm the suddenly much more tense atmosphere. “It’s a rasp, it’s alright, it just helps to smooth things out.” 

Jerry grumbled something as he picked up Virgil’s hoof again, gripping it right between his thighs as he tried again. 

A high, animalistic whine escaped Virgil’s throat. 

Thomas moved over to his front. “Hey, hey, look at me, ok? Everything’s fine. This is the last step of the trimming for this hoof. You’ve been doing so well. I’m so proud of you. It’ll all be ok.” 

“It feels weird, I don’t like it!” Virgil gritted out. 

“I know,” Thomas said sympathetically. “I know it doesn’t feel good. But it won’t take long. He’s almost done with that hoof already. And you’re doing so well.” 

Virgil’s face was screwed up, his eyes shut tight. If he wasn’t wearing a hoodie, his fingernails would surely be cutting into the skin of his arms with how tightly he was gripping them. As it was, Thomas was still worried about finger-shaped bruises. 

“There.” Jerry dropped Virgil’s hoof. 

Virgil’s eyes shot open, and he stomped that foot against the ground. His scowl didn’t leave. 

“I hate this.” 

“I know it doesn’t feel good,” Thomas said. “But it’s really important for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Virgil grumbled something Thomas couldn’t quite hear as Jerry picked up his other back leg. 

It was an achingly slow process, painful for all of them, to get the rest of Virgil’s hooves trimmed. But they did get through it. Eventually. 

“Alright, now he said you really do need shoes,” Thomas said gently, again coming to stand in front of Virgil and catch his gaze. “This bit should be easier. It’ll take a bit longer, but most of it will be him over there on the side of his truck getting the shoes ready. So he won’t have to touch you so much.” 

Virgil nodded miserably. His face was a blotchy mess now, with a few tear tracks he hadn’t yet swiped at. 

“Why don’t you talk to me?” Thomas offered. “Let’s talk about something and just focus on that and not the farrier.” 

Virgil shrugged. 

“Well, maybe let’s get to know each other a little better. I’m 25, um, I don’t have any siblings. I do have several aunts and uncles though, my parents didn’t really carry on the tradition of big families.” 

“I’m 8…” Virgil mumbled. “But I’m 9 in the fall, I’m not a colt anymore.” 

Thomas blinked, a bit confused. “Well, of course not.” 

Virgil nodded, justified. 

As far as Thomas knew, centaurs were adults at 5. Or at least counted as adults. Some five year old centaurs he’d seen seemed more like older teens. But he wasn’t the one whose opinion was important. 

“I don’t really know anything about siblings,” Virgil continued. “I was brought here a little before I turned 4, and I didn’t know of any before that.” 

“So you’ve been here for close to five years?” Thomas asked. “Wait, aren’t centaurs supposed to stay with their parents till age 5?” 

Virgil nodded. “There’s like, a lot of exceptions to that. Most people don’t get that lucky.” 

“Oh,” Thomas said, an odd twist in his stomach. But this wasn’t about him, this was about distracting Virgil. “So, how has it been growing up here?” 

Virgil gritted his teeth. “Awful. Some of the stories Patton and Logan tell are worse, but this sure isn’t a nice place to be.”

Thomas wasn’t sure if he was doing particularly well at distracting Virgil, or just being a particularly nosey and rude conversation partner. 

“I wish I could make it better,” Thomas said. 

Virgil shrugged. “You do your best.” 

Thomas frowned. “My best isn’t good enough when you’re still miserable.” 

“Well, what else are you supposed to do?” Virgil asked. “Not much you can. You may be human, but on the human social ladder you’re pretty much on the bottom. Uh… no offense.” 

“You’re fine,” Thomas said. He sighed heavily. “I feel like there’s something I can do, and should be doing, I just don’t know what.”

“Well… last time the farrier actually did anything to my hooves,” Virgil said. “I was in like three different harnesses, and hobbles, and a fucking bag over my head. And then when I freaked out they kept sticking ropes all over me, and a bunch of humans were yelling and sitting on me and pulling me around. So. What you’ve already done is a pretty big improvement.” 

Thomas grimaced at the story. “I just can’t believe it got that bad in the first place. You know, I have some experience with Remy and Emile, but like, they lived with my aunt for years, and as far as I know she was nice to them, and then they came to me when she passed away, and… I guess I just didn’t think that people really treated centaurs as badly as some of the horror stories.” 

Virgil just shrugged. “This place is all I really know, so…” 

“What about when you were still with your parents? Do you remember much from back then?” 

“Well, a lot of the time I was just kinda in a stall. I think we lived on a farm, and my parents still had work and things. Sometimes I’d be let out into a field, and that was really nice. There were a couple other centaurs there, one or two foals and some old ones. I didn’t really see the humans there very much, or I don’t remember it anyway.” 

“Sounds like a pretty lonely childhood,” Thomas said sadly. 

Virgil just shrugged again. “Why don’t you tell me about yours instead then.”

Jerry was coming back with a ready shoe. 

“One of the shoes is ready,” Thomas said. “It should be fairly quick to put on. There will be a strange hissing sound when it first goes on, and he’s going to hammer in nails, but they won’t hurt, and you’ll be ok. I can tell you some more about me while it’s going on.” 

Virgil tensed up again, rigid and trembly. He scowled, but nodded. 

“So my parents both came from pretty big families, and I was the first grandchild, so I had a lot of adults around when I was little,” Thomas said. 

The muscles in Virgil’s leg bunched as the shoe was pressed against his hoof, and he winced hard. 

“Then when I started to get more cousins, the attention got more spread out. But Aunt Patty still came over to visit all the time. She was Mom’s sister, the one who first had Remy and Emile. I would visit sometimes when I got just a bit older, like 10 or something, and I would get to ride them around. I was… kind of an idiot back then, and I hadn’t really realized that they were people too. I’m not sure Aunt Patty did either.” 

Virgil slowly began to relax after Jerry let his hoof down again. 

“Or wait,” Thomas said. “Maybe it was only Emile back then. I know Remy’s younger. Sometimes childhood memories get just a little blurry together. I ended up getting to be kinda friends with them both by the time I was a teenager. When I moved out from my parents house I went to live with Aunt Patty actually. She always said I was her favorite nephew. That’s why she left me the house and all when she passed away.” 

Jerry seemed to have done extra prep work before bringing out the first shoe, because he was returning much sooner this time with the second. 

“Here comes the farrier again,” Thomas warned. “Just like last time. You’ll do great.” 

Virgil nodded shakily. “Keep talking? Please.”

“Yeah, of course,” Thomas said. “Let’s see, um, have I ever told you that Emile has a therapy license?” 

Virgil shook his head, biting down on his lip as the new shoe was placed against his hoof. 

“He does,” Thomas continued. “Aunt Patty had an anxiety disorder. I mean, I do too, but I’ve had an Emile around for longer to help me. Turns out centaurs can get therapy certifications. It’s a bit closer to like, a support dog as far as paperwork is concerned, but Emile really liked the idea, and he has a whole bookshelf back at home of psychology books and I bet if they allowed centaurs to do the same certification test for human therapists he’d pass. He’s really been a lifesaver. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” 

Thomas had to pause to switch the hobbles from Virgil’s front legs to his back ones. 

“When I was a younger teen,” Thomas said. “I used to think of him like he was another one of my uncles. He was always taking care of me whenever I visited, and we both really cared about each other. Just about anything I know about centaurs and what they like and what they don’t I learned from him. Remy was more standoffish until a few years ago. He’s not much of a fan of humans and the whole being owned thing, which like, of course not! But it made it a bit harder for us to become friends.” 

Jerry was back again with another shoe. 

“You’re getting real close to being done, Virgil. I’m real proud of how well you’re doing, especially since it’s so hard,” Thomas said earnestly. 

He chattered on about random things, interspersing praises for Virgil, until the farrier finally finished with the last shoe. 

Virgil lifted his legs awkwardly. “Ugh, they’re heavy and weird.” 

“I guess you took ‘centaur whisperer’ literally, huh?” Jerry said to Thomas. “I mean, I can’t deny it worked. You’ll never get that one to stand still without jitters, but still, that was damn impressive.” 

Thomas tried to smile. It was really all of Virgil’s effort making the difference. And like, not being rampantly abused the whole time. 

Jerry grinned mischievously. “Well, I’m outta here. Still gonna charge you through the end of the day.” 

Thomas rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest. His focus was on Virgil, not cost. 

“Can you walk?” Thomas asked as the truck started to pull away. 

Virgil stepped forward, frowning down at his hooves. “Yeah, it’s just weird.” 

Thomas unclipped the halter and laid it over his shoulder with the hobble, instead holding out a hand for Virgil to take if he chose. “I can help you inside, and then you can get brushed down if you want.” 

Virgil’s coat was rather wet now with nervous sweat, and it couldn’t be comfortable. 

“I can walk on my own,” Virgil said, not accepting the offered hand. He didn’t stumble, but he definitely was walking oddly, raising his hooves high between each step. “And I want to stay with Logan for a bit.” 

Thomas easily acquiesced. “Absolutely. Whatever you want. You deserve it, after all that.” 

Virgil offered him a small, tight smile. “Thanks, Thomas.” 

Thomas smiled back.

It had been a success. An exhausting success, but still a success. 

[freckled-paints]

HAPPY BIRTH @batsyvie !!!!

the fav boy special for u <3 little star boy!! who wouldnt love him

vers without test under the cut!

[tofupixel]

I recently started learning to use rpg maker (vx ace!) and as a result have become increasingly interested in pixel art. I hadn't really done pixel work since my teens - I do more digital painting and vector art - so while I'm a little familiar and can do passable editing, there's a lot I don't know.

One thing that's kind of perplexing for me is understanding the differences in style between two creators of pixel art. I studied art history and I'm used to the differences being things like brush stroke length or degree of realism... I feel like I'm lacking in lexicon in this new frontier lol

What nuances of an artist do you think are most important to style in pixel art?

This kind of stuff is not really officially studied (yet) so it's all a bit of opinion from me.

Usually in pixel art the biggest differences in styles are which limitations the artists choose to impose on themselves; colour count, resolution, palette... Or more stylistic choices like hue shifting, anti-aliasing style or no, dithering or no, etc.

I personally think there are a huge variety of styles in pixel art, as it's literally just a medium, and I hope you'll agree by the end 8)

Also (imo) there is some seperation between the styles of art for art's sake, and art for videogames, where things have to be clear and readable to be actually playable.

🎮 Old school games:

Sometimes referred to as something like '8-bit' or '16-bit' (relating to the NES era / SNES era consoles), these artstyles usually follow the rules and limitations of the hardware at the time.

This all falls under retro art, most popular styles include: NES, SNES, GB, GBC, C64

Notable artists: Nickwoz, Sandy Gordon, Franken, Cisco

📚 Old school art:

There were also events called Demoscene (still are), where developers would go to a big convention and share their demos. A lot of pixel art competitions were held here, where artists would draw live.

Generally they used to favour a high realism/semirealism style, with lots of texture/dithering, fairly high resolution (if the hardware allowed for it), and adjacent pixels mostly being different from one another.

There are even older styles than this but they are fairly niche and I'm not that well educated. If interested look into some of the old PCs/consoles.

⭐ Modern pixel art:

Usually using more colours and higher resolution, larger clusters of pixels instead of individual ones. Strong use of art fundamentals.

Artists to look at: Adam Ferguson (yes it is pixel art), Snake, Slym, 6VCR, Yes I do Pixels, Gijotto, SovanJedi, JoeCreates, Franek, @8pxl

the rest below are "modern" pixel artists too but I think they have other things in their style that are a bit different!

🎨 Painterly:

Some artists choose to emulate the natural brushstrokes digitally, and keep their clusters large and loose. Usually don't focus on the minute details as much.

@makrustic, @hexh-pixel, Umbohr, Gawrone

🟦 Dithering

These artists all use dithering / texture in ways that make their styles totally unique.

Deceiver, Night, Reo,

💥 Experimental

These artists are always trying new things and honing in on their unique style.

AJ, hby, @ilta222, Alphons

I could really go on for ever, there are so many different styles, cute pixel art, horror pixel art, 1bit (2 colours only), and then adding animation takes it even further, but I think you get the idea

If you want to learn more, the Masters of Pixel Art books have works /interviews from pixel artists of different eras, including demoscene and contemporary.

😊👍

[onmyyan]

Kiss the goat

A/N: Horror isekai? Horror isekai, here's part one of the Scream chapters, unedited, hope you like cuz it was so much fun writing

Pairing: Yandere Poly Ghostface x reader

It was such an odd sensation, you don't think you'd ever truly get used to it, no matter how many times it washed over you.

It was always the same, tranquil lull, and it always started in your lower tummy, like this wave of ice cold water suddenly replaced all the blood in your veins.

Whenever you first 'woke up' somewhere new, that damn feeling was always the first thing you noticed, and the only warning you'd get.

This time though, something was different. There was this mix of fear, confusion, and awe tossed in with the lull because you clocked your location immediately.

Ba-dum Ba-dum Ba-dum

For a moment all you could hear was the the blood pounding in your eardrums, slowly , as you forced yourself to breathe, the surrounding noises faded in, at first it was just the chatter of a busy school, then you noticed the shuffle of feet dragging on concrete, with your heart pounding furiously against your rib cage, you pinched your thigh through your baggy blue jeans and began walking, focusing on forcing your feet to move, rather than the millions of other thoughts buzzing through your skull. Why? Well because there you stood, dropped right before the soon-to-be infamous Woodsboro High.

As you walked amongst the crowd of people there were a few things you noticed immediately about yourself, at least this version of yourself, which seemed to change with every new plot you were forcibly thrown in.

The jeans you wore were loose fitting and well loved, small holes in the denim here and there  gave you a typical 90's degenerate vibe, the soft cotton of the band T-shirt you were in felt comfortable against your skin, around your waist hung a oversized burgundy flannel with accents of mustard yellow, the fabric looked old and smelled of weed, a sigh rolled through your chest at the familiar smell, it was a bittersweet reminder of your life before this insanity began.

Glancing down at your outfit made you breath out a sigh of relief, at least you dressed better in this one. In the small shirt pocket, you felt a book of matches, the scratchy texture of telling you what it was without needing to pull it out, good to know.

Shaking your head you try your best to look as bored and uninteresting as possible, you've found these things were best tackled from a stealthy perspective. As you finally enter the school, the second you step through the open doors, there's this intense, hair-raising feeling that washes over you, everything in your gut is saying run away, turn around, but you don't.

Instead, you swallow the fight-or-flight instincts and continue your pace as if you hadn't noticed the predatory stare on you. It didn't surprise you, after all, the self-proclaimed directors of this twisted movie were bound to notice a new player being introduced so suddenly, you just hadn't yet gotten used to the uneasy feeling of being in the presence of a murderer.

Or in this movies case, murderers.

The stares you received from the rest of the student body helped to distract you from the heavy stares burning into you, as you leisurely walked down the halls people either mean-mugged you or ignored you, it helped to get a better feel for the role you'd been assigned, depending on how well you played said role was going to determine whether or not you ended up on the kill count.

For now, you kept it pushing, your hands resting comfortably in the pockets of your jeans, your right hand, which you only now noticed was covered in rings, brushed against the cool touch of something small and metal, you quickly pulled out the object to reveal a switchblade, the handle a glossy white with a simple heart scratched into the surface, quickly you tucked it back where you'd found it.

The grin that had stretched across your face as you traversed the halls was downright wicked, in your mini search you'd also come across a crinkled class schedule and a pack of gum. Curious (e/c) eyes diligently scanned the face of every student that passed, searching for any clue as to when exactly you'd popped in, having a clear timeline in mind made these things run so much smoother.

Casey Beckem gave you that answer in the form of a cliché shoulder check as she rounded the corner. She made a point to dust off the area that had touched you, and her scoff of 'Watch it freak.' made a snort leave your nose, god you loved the 90s, even the bullying was better.

Considering she was still amongst the living, you gathered this was before the start of the movie, fantastic. You pushed forward, far too wrapped up in your building excitement to pay any mind to the very dangerous man you'd caught the sight of.

You found your first class a few minutes early, thankfully the school's layout wasn't too hard to navigate, you were intent on taking proper inventory and prepping as well as you could. The teacher took you in with a surprised noise, clearly judging your character on your appearance.

You'd gotten pretty good at handling your, particular situation, so good in fact you'd begun to relax a little. Taking a seat by the window in the back felt very final girl of you, the thought making you giggle to yourself. Whatever entity responsible for isekaing you into this movie flashed between a real asshole and a slightly smaller asshole with each reincarnation, this time it looked like they were feeling nice as you started with a weapon. 

Your inner workings were put on an abrupt pause as Randy Meeks burst in through the door earning a glare from the otherwise silent teacher. The bright-eyed male made a beeline for you, his expression was akin to a puppy who just had its bone taken away.

"What the Hell San Francisco? I spent the last 15 minutes running around like some mook looking for ya'." he paused to sit down at the desk directly on your right. "You ask a guy to show you around then ditch em'? Cruel, undeniably cruel." You learned pretty quickly to just roll with it whenever someone from Canon spoke to you.

"My bad Meeks, I'll make it up to you." At this, the energetic man rolled his eyes, now leaning even closer. "Oh yeah? Meaning what- you'll actually take me up on my offer instead of responding with that cold familiar brand of cynicism? C'mon, it'll be funnnn." He trailed off in a whine. "Whoever told you begging was an option for you lied." You laughed, shaking your head at the way he visibly deflated.

You kicked your faded black Converse all star's on the back of the seat before you, legs bouncing as you allowed yourself to ponder your answer, the nervous habit had developed sometime between this movie, and one of your earlier incarnations and subsequent deaths.

This was a little more complicated, see the omnipotent fuck who put you here liked to screw with you, very much into the concept of seeing you mix with whatever plot that laid before you, so much so that anytime you fought against whatever scenario you were thrust into in any way you died horribly. The first time you'd been plopped into a movie was the original My Bloody Valentine,- a chill ran through your body like a punch to the gut at the thought, yeah you'd come a long way since then in terms of working the system but nothing was set in stone.

You figured whatever this offer from Randy was, would no doubt tie you into the plot, knowing better than to fight the waves, you pretended to think about it before shrugging. "Sure. I'll bite." The simple statement had him shooting out of his chair to fist pump before quickly falling back in his seat.

"Yessss-okay it's super easy, I spend my time rewinding the utter garbage the general population consumes on a daily." He was practically buzzing in his seat as he spoke. "Once in a while, the boss leaves for an extra long lunch break and I get to watch whatever I want- Child's Play, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street- you name it I got it." The redhead spoke proudly, leaning back against his chair with a self-satisfied look.

"You should be a salesman Meeks." The male bristled beside you, a tinge of red on his cheeks. "Yeah yeah, whatever Frisco- don't come crying to me when you don't have anyone to sit with at lunch." He teased, leaning over his desk, you smile toying with the ring on your hand, popping your neck with a sigh you took a second before responding, "Oh god, how will I ever survive sitting alone, whatever will I do." you spoke in a dead tone making the male at your side pout.

"You're cold (L/n), couldn't even pretend to care about my threat huh?"

You looked over with a teasing grin, "Course' not- I'm not a liar Randy.", it was then and only then that you noticed the tall Blonde unashamedly staring you down from the door.

Stu Macher had made his appearance earlier than expected but you didn't sweat it, or the almost hungry look he was giving you. Nope, not sweating at all. Instead, you quickly averted your eyes, praying he hadn't caught your stare.

He had, naturally.

The taller male nearly took up the entire door frame, he looked a lot more intimidating in person. The playful look on his face was all the more haunting the more you thought about who he really was underneath it. What he was hours away from doing.

Randy, feeling the sudden rise in tension, refused to be left out, and tried to not so subtly block Stu's vision of you by standing up and not so casually sitting on his desk, his back to the future killer. "Anyway Frisco', I don't want you mixin' in with the wrong crowd okay?" He made a point to flick his eyes back towards the now pouting blonde, "Bad company makes for bad times. Just stick with me I'll show you the ropes." He made sure to mutter that last part, his expression drenched in fear for the briefest moment.

Before you could respond Stu had rather aggressively climbed his way over a few desks to plop into the seat in front of you.

His dimpled grin was rather infectious.

"Now that's no way to talk about your friends Randy." He almost seethed out his name making the shorter male curl in on himself like a rabbit, he turned to face you with flare.

"Hi, there hot stuff- Stu Macher, bad company." He took your hand in his much larger one, completely enveloping your own, the tension was broken by the comical handshake, how hard he shook it up and down dispelled all previous bad vibes, his devious little grin only grew at your response, "Hi Stu, I'm (Y/n). Worse company."

"So whatcha' running from in San Francisco? Girl's like you don't just show up outta nowhere for no reason." He didn't even try to hide the way he was checking you out, his half-lidded eyes eagerly drinking in every inch of the alluring stranger before him.

"Who says I'm running big guy? I might be the one doing the chasing." Maybe teasing a soon-to-be serial killer wasn't the smartest move, but you just couldn't help it, he leaned his head into his palm, the wide toothy grin promising nothing but trouble. "I think I like you- come sit with us at lunch."

"You askin' or telling?" You met his heated gaze with a cold indifference that only fueled the ever-growing fire burning in his belly. The larger male quickly fell to his knees from his seat on the chair, bringing his hands together in a dramatic motion, "Pretty pretty please hot new kid come sit with meee." The laugh tumbling past your lips was real, you quickly ushered him back to his seat, "As nice as ya look on your knees- this is embarrassing please get the hell up I'll sit with you."

He backed off with a victorious grin not knowing you'd just lied through your teeth, there was no way in hell you'd willingly put yourself in Billy's cross hairs, Stu was unavoidable apparently, but Billy? You'd hold out as long as you could, when lunch rolled around you managed to convince Randy to eat on the roof, and used the friendly conversation to get more information out of him.

It was during this conversation you discovered in this world, whoever you were, was Randy's new neighbor.

After the school bell had rung for the final time, you made a point to linger around Randy, usually, when you spawned in one of these things the plot was well into swing, but this time you were here early, and the change in routine felt all the more dangerous.

Thankfully, Randy came to your rescue, you tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear him say,

"-if you even want to that is- we'd mostly be watching the classics." He finished nervously glancing to and from, you managed to space back just in time to greet him with a half smile and a shrug. "Lead the way, Meeks."

"It's so cool how you live next door- when you told me at first I thought you were yankin' my chain." He said bouncing his way down the road.

Randy had stumbled home with sleep in his eye sometime around midnight, you weren't too worried for the guy as you knew they hadn't started their spree yet.

That was until the phone rang. 

For a moment all you did was stare. You knew who was on the other end it just didn't make any sense. 

Swallowing the thick ice cube of fear suddenly in your throat, you caught your breath as casually as you could.

As if on autopilot your hand scooped up the house phone, you surprised yourself with how calm your greeting was.

"Hello?.."

"Hey there sweet thing- you're up awful late aren't ya?" You tried to look as casual as you could, steadily making your way to every door, and securing each entrance, but it was hard to ignore the twinge of accusation in his tone.

"You're up too.." Was what you managed to get out, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Hm, that's fair. What were you up to? Have some fun with your boyfriend?" The last word sounded harder than the rest, with no humor in his tone, almost as if it was said through gritted teeth, like whoever spoke it spat the word out.

So he was definitely watching you, your mind racked with the best answer to keep Randy from harm's way.

"Just watching some scary movies with a friend- you like em'?" You asked leaning against the island in your kitchen. "Oh, honey- you've got no idea." Before you could respond he continued, "I will see you later gorgeous." and then he was gone

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Guess what time it is…….

CENTIPEDE TIME !!! she’s finally real,,,,,,,, based off Scolopendra hardwickei or the Indian tiger centipede

Before I go about the process I just want to say you guys have been soooo incredible and I love reading your reblogs and I love the idea knowing I’ve inspired a lot of people,,, the project, although it was a lot of work and I’m feeling not so great as of posting this, still motivates me to want to make another.

(Art process below)

This was entirely freehanded! I have a lot of experience working in 3D art settings that this part came easy to me but I started with a flat base shaped in the pose I’d like the creature in. I used one whole piece cut from a shipping box and filled in the gaps with tape; you don’t need a single piece for the base but for structural integrity it helps a lot. As you can see here I also cut the legs separate and glued them on using hot glue. The vertical cross sections are to give an early support for the structure of the creature, think about the frames of aircraft or boats. During this part I used a pen to mark the width and height of the previous section to get a gradual flow of shapes.

This next part I wish I got more documentation on but after the vertical cross sections I used soda boxes for the thinner and flexible cardboard to add contour lines along the length of the creature, gluing them on the cross sections. I did about 2 strips of this on either side to fill in the space and then I continued to use soda boxes to fold and shape the top of the creature, gluing onto the strips rather than the cross sections (this part was a mistake but I quickly adapted, no issues happened but it did make it slightly less secure). I also gave the legs vertical cross sections as well to shape them for the masking tape.

The worst part, taping everything. I used tape to further shape it how I wanted but that meant going over parts several times. I used 2 different widths of tape for this for efficiency but it doesn’t matter. The legs were very loosely taped and if squeezed then they’d lose their shape; I didn’t bother filling them in because I don’t have materials for that and I let the paper mache help support them instead. Tape was also used to fill any holes and gaps left by the cardboard skeleton.

The next phase is paper mache of which I haven’t done since 5th grade… I was not confident in this step. I used mod podge and a brush to smooth down the paper. Because I lacked materials I used fast food napkins instead of newspaper which worked totally fine, it just tended to tear a bit easier. Some areas required me to get hands on and I don’t really like the texture during this stage so that was fun (lie). I didn’t do too many layers, one for the body and 3 for the back and legs but some projects might demand more. I used half of a 16oz bottle of mod podge btw so please get more than you think you need.

Finally, texture hell!!! I did a base coat of white spray paint and painted everything else with acrylic. Start with your lighter colors first before doing darker ones! I originally mixed some yellow and orange for the body and realized it was too bright and so covered it with orange instead. It also wasn’t until later I realized I could’ve been smarter with my paint so I skipped over the segments that were going to be fully black, saving the orange for the rest of the body. I wanted my centipede to stand out and not look 2D color-wise so I also used the red for the head and tail to give gradients and edges to the orange segments and legs, later going back with burgundy to further darken them but not too much. For the black segments I also used a very watered down layer of sky blue to give a fake shine and show the intended structure of the segments. Do not be afraid to use your hands! I used mine to smudge my detail paints like the black fade on the legs and the back shading. To top it all off I sprayed a clear coat and punched two holes in the underside to hang it up, using thumbtacks angled upwards.

[ranticore]

selected pages from Shapeshifter Problems, a small exploration of old old concept art & thoughts on shapeshifter tropes (specifically the question of the 'true form') i posted to patreon earlier this year. there's a bunch more haha. here's some OLD art and bg process for writing said the black horse. I don't like my old art but looking back at it I'm really happy how I've developed since, I used to make everything too sharp, straight-sided, or skinny. I had to make a conscious effort to change that and now it's so much better.

image transcriptions under the cut (just the text sorry)

Image 1: "These are more of those older designs - the horns were a deliberate play into devil imagery on Puck's part while giving Félix this form (all to cause more torment of course) but again I couldn't vibe with it. Such clear statements of intent didn't work for me.

The scars remain canon but not quite so stark, more a difference in texture (again, moving away from visual details). His forehead scar is ALWAYS there."

Image 2: "Félix. These are really old - from 2019-2020. They're the first attempts at Félix's horse form. At the time I was leaning into some goat-like attributes. I liked the idea of something that looked like an emaciated amalgam of many familiar creatures but if you look closer, it actually doesn't look like any animal at all. The original body shape and proportions were inspired by moose. I didn't know how to draw convincing horse shapes which is why he had these hands and claws for so long. I still draw the little flower wheel pattern on his sides sometimes... a secret just for me. His belly fur, squared off ear shape, and beard are still defining characteristics"

Image 3: "More old art from 2020. Bottom left is my first ever painting on my iPad using Procreate. I still prefer SAI for creature drawings, or at least the original sketches underpinning a lot of my art. Below on the bottom was my attempt at a scarier form for the character but I ultimately decided that it ran contrary to the atmosphere I was trying to create. Top left is my first 'real' horse painting and it includes the tail shape which has not ever changed, and feathers, which I nixed because I wanted to learn how to draw the feet and legs properly and not rely on covering them up with flowing hair (my favourite thing to draw)"

Image 4: "Like the black horse designs, these humanoid designs for Félix (circa 2019 - OLD art!) started very complex and simplified over time. I decided to avoid visual complexity, but made the mistake of solidifying specific 'rules' for how the Púca servants' bodies work, and I deeply regret this. Because I wrote Said the Black Horse in 2021, I was still operating under the old mindset and that caused it to become somewhat established canon.

In his original iteration his tattoos represented magical contracts between him and various faeries, so they were supposed to be always visible as a reminder of that contract.

<- a really early furry version, I was playing with the eye on the neck as a design feature. Ultimately I feel that although it looks cool, the medium he exists in is proser. So I needed to move away from visually complex designs and towards designs which were interesting to different senses instead."

Image 5: "As time went on the design simplified. I enjoyed making fun textures using procreate brushes. These designs lack his forehead scar but do include his impalement scar. If you've seen my Hanged Man card you'll know how he got that one. But when I made the charts like this about how his body 'worked' in 2020, again I ran into the same issue I always do when writing about faeries... the more I explain it, the most 'logic' and 'science' goes into it, the less it feels like a faery story to me. Overexplaining is anathema to the faeries of Inver. so even though I like these design notes they just don't fit in this setting."

[screentones-webcomicresources]

Screen Tones (the actual material!)

If you've seen the little comics-esque dots in media (and in our logo), you've seen screen tones, also known as halftones! The halftone method was created as a way to print values - and they've developed a unique flavour in comics because of how they look. But how do we use them in the digital age? Krispy dives in with her tips:

Digital art can have a LOT of issues with consistency and sizing with halftones that creates odd, eye-straining patterns called moiré. There's technically no way to avoid this in all aspects- it comes with the territory of tones because of their nature, and the fact that folks use many different size screens to read and enjoy your comic. That said- they're are still many methods to help keep it looking fine and non obstructive:

Consistency is key.

There is no 'proper size' for the screen tones, because the art will change regardless of how its compressed and viewed. You can WORK in 600dpi, but if that is displayed on a screen with lower resolution, you will get moiré as a result. Your printer's settings will also dictate how the patterns come out. You can print with one company and get different results with another- it can be a big gamble, so proofs are essential! (Here's a great post going into all the print details) Moiré happens also when your patterns are NOT on the same 'frequency', meaning an overlap of different patterns can give you this janky effect:

This also shows you the many frequency and 'sizes' you can get with halftones. It can be a gamble depending on how it is sized. Sizing matters a lot!

We have set files of halftones that are a set size, and we place the image on top, and delete what we don't need. That way, the image stays the same size, and you're not dealing with it re-sizing.

Traditional halftones were meant for a single size, so they print consistently, but when scanned and shown on bigger displays than they were intended for, you can still run into problems. Avoid working so large with halftones if you don't want to waste time fixing them. But don't work too small either! 300dpi Sizing down is still easier than sizing up. Focus on what frequency would match the three sizes you plan on: working in, printing, and sharing. Again, consistency is key!

A couple of other techniques for screen tones you can also use that will give you the effect you want, but avoid most of the moiré:

Blurring: If you want to work in the halftone thresholds/brushes you have, and don't want to deal with the sizing issues, you can blur the halftone layer by a couple levels, making it a static image that still gives you texture, but isn't fighting your screen with dots and patterns.

Imitating the feel of halftones with other methods: With a few Photoshop filters and effects, you can transform flat grey areas into textured tone!

Go forth and tone!

[neverchecking]

Day 13: Olfactophilia- With Sage

Man it's crazy this this was always day 13 and i never changed it bc it was already written and someone (bailey) told me there were craving Sage. Nah, that's crazyyyy.

Smut so Minors Do Not Interact. If I find out a minor has interacted with my blog, I will block you.. Thank you!

Smut CW: Sage. (He has a thing with how you smell), thigh fucking bc MAN is that HNNNNG, also he bites.

This is Day thirteen of My Kinktober so be sure to come back and check out the other days! Friendly Reminder that all of my smut is tagged 'Cindersins' including this, but this will also be tagged as 'Cinder's happy halloween' along with the run of the mill smut tags.

Kinktober Masterlist <<< Day 12 >>>Day 14

He knew he experienced the world…differently.

 Ever since his death however many odd years ago, he’s witnessed it first hand. His eyesight was sharper, catching the smallest movements as they brushed against blades of grass. Pinpointing the exact moment a club was swung in his direction, easily dodging past it for a counterblow. Catching the smallest reflection of light against ores that otherwise would’ve been lost in the depths. 

His hearing was exponential as well. He could hear the soft pads of paws behind him in an effort to sneak past him. Hear the delicate crushing of weeds as a cave dweller moves about. Catch the smallest rumbles of pebbles falling from a hill as a beast tries to sneak up behind him. 

His taste could pick out any spice used, he could feel the smallest changes in texture, but truly, his sense of smell had been his saving grace. When the wind shifted, he could smell different prey from miles away. When he really focused, he could smell which direction the nearest stable was, where the nearest monster camp was. 

He could smell you. 

You were his favorite smell, by far. Something tinged by the smell of skin and sweat, but nothing could hide your natural musk. Something laced with the natural undertone of the earth and whatever soap you had bought off a merchant that month. It was indescribably comforting. It grounded him because if there was something Ganon could never replicate, it was the way you smelt. His puppets could look just like whoever they wanted, they could feel as Hylian as they come, but they would never carry the smell of life. 

It’s why he took every chance given to him to stuff his nose into your heavenly hair or the junction of your neck and shoulder, just to smell you. 

It’s why his teeth stayed clamp right under your jaw as he dragged his cock between your thighs, feeling the muscles twitch as you clung to him, marking up his back in your own delicate handwriting. It was sensation overload, but something so deliciously overstimulating he couldn’t help but indulge. From his nerves shocking his entire system with each drag against your plush flesh, to the tantalizing taste of your sweat remaining tart on his tongue to the pure essence that clouded around him. It was smothering, choking him with a cloud of something that was utterly you he couldn’t help the urge to drown in it. 

Golden Goddess above and her three servants, he prayed this is the one thing in his life he’d never lose. He’d burn the world to keep you with him, ignoring the smell of ash that followed after him. 

[max-nico]

Shadow's development Headcanons

Started off looking like more of some .. creature than a hedgehog

Like way too many or not enough limbs, especially because of the Black Doom DNA

I'm imagining him having one eye and being more of a scaly texture but still oddly goopy lol as well as not having hands or fingers and instead having some tentacle type things

Between getting experimented on and his normal growth he eventually grew to look like a normal mobian hedgehog with some key differences

The differences being, the whites of his eyes having a light green tint, too many teeth, every joint is double jointed, quills that are unable to fold down/look relaxed, sharp claws, etc, etc

I also think it'd be fun if one of his feet had one or two extra toes :3

I think at some point during his development he looked like Stitches alien form (from Lilo and stitch)

Whether he can still regrow the limbs now, Gerald manually rewrote his DNA, or one day he just lost the ability to use them is up to you bc idk

Maria watched Shadow grow up essentially from a weird amoeba looking splotch to a semi grown Hedgehog

I headcanon that Shadow's body didn't look like it does now when he originally went into stasis, and he grew while in containment

Hedgehogs aren't supposed to lose quills unless they're under high stress. I think Shadow sheds a lot by nature, and he frequently has to brush his quills to make room for the new ones growing

Teaching Shadow to talk was a rough process. Mostly because he didn't always.. have a mouth.. or hands... so Maria and Gerald had to be on top of figuring out new ways to communicate, just in case

Perfecting his design was painful, Shadow could gain or lose random parts of his body, organs could be grown wrong and bones had to be corrected and moved over and over again, just for the sake of a "perfect" life form

They'd put Shadow back in the Green Tube when they knew a long process was going to be painful, but sometimes he would need to be awake so they could watch his development, but I would hope at least Maria would fight for these processes to be as few and far between as possible

The first words Shadow said were "Maria", "sister", and "pick up"

It took years before Gerald was finally happy with Shadow's look, and even after that he was still being experimented on to track the progression of his steadily growing powers

Things like his enhanced memory, speed, agility, strength, etc

I think Shadow was given his inhibitor rings for ease of retrieval and containment, and it was an easy way to keep track of his powers while not letting him over use them

This is not to say there was nothing redeemable about his childhood. He technically still has good memories to look back on, after all he still had Maria

Anyways uhm yeah, I'm going to post this without proofreading it hopefully that doesn't backfire :D

Feel free to add your headcanons or whatever !!!!

I'm a Tails centric blog, but please hop into my ask box or DMs, I love meeting new people :33

[golvio]

I’m a little obsessed with this one particular shot from the new trailer.

To me, this vague lump of…something is shaped like the hill where The Cabin is located, with the two pine trees framing it.

However, in the trailer shot, there is no cabin.

That’s a big deal, because there’s always a cabin.

In every route, there are constants that don’t change no matter what choices you make. There’s always a cabin at the top of a hill in the woods. There’s always a knife placed on the table near the door to the basement. There’s always a shackle on the Princess’ left hand. There’s always the Princess, the Narrator, and You.

And there is always a cabin. In the Stranger route, every single parallel universe the Narrator could possibly create has the exact same cabin on top of that exact same hill. There’s never not a cabin on top of that hill.

So, is this the point in time where the Princess says, “Days mean nothing in the maw of forever?” By that, does she mean it’s been so long and so many loops have passed that even the Narrator is no longer tracking the finer details, and the cabin along with the landscape eventually unravels and falls away?

Is this a point in time before there was ever a cabin, much less a path or any woods? A point where the Narrator was still in the process of creating this closed, isolated little narrative to safely contain the Princess (and, by extension, You) inside?

Or could it be that the cabin is there, just in a place or state that we can no longer see it? Is the trailer shot representing a version of the world that’s faded into an Impressionistic outline of what it was intended to be? Or are those brush strokes and textures actually…hair…?

Is the Princess the landscape? Is that what she meant by “I never left your side?” Is this what “ending the world” looks like?

I mean, one of the constants the Narrator has imposed upon this world is that the Princess is always in the cabin. However, we haven’t seen all possible permutations of “in the cabin” that follow that rule. The Princess can still technically be in the cabin even if a vast majority of her is spilling outside of it, burying it beneath a mound of hair and flesh in a way that makes its interior, the knife, and her vulnerable heart inaccessible to us. After enough loops, it wouldn’t be surprising if the Princess eventually came to represent so many different concepts in our mind that she’d eventually grow to encompass the whole world, no longer resembling a “Princess.”

However, there’s also the question of whether this is the Princess taking over the world that the Narrator created, or whether this is the landscape reverting to its original form as the Narrator’s grip on the story begins to loosen when it becomes too complex and unpredictable for him to control. If “I never left your side” applies to every loop, even the very first one, then that means that the Princess doesn’t become the landscape so much as she always was the landscape. It’s just that the Narrator put a veneer of separation from the Princess onto the world to make the entity that it is small, limited, and easy to subdue.

What, then, does that mean for You? Are you another invader, whether a real person from outside or a literary construct the Narrator pulled from thin air? Or are You, too, a part of the Princess, ripped away from her body and deluded into believing you were a separate entity?

Is that the purpose of the mirror? Is the Princess merely a reflection of You, a funhouse mirror image mimicking your desires and actions because she is doomed to be eternally defined by your perceptions and can’t take physical shape without You observing or even thinking about her? Or is it that You are her reflection, her distorted mirror image, who she must bring back into herself in order to become truly whole again and escape?

[sashi-ya]

五 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧: 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐌𝐞 [+18] 𝙶𝚘𝚍! 𝙰𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚡 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✦ request: @stygianoir asked: For your event for fem reader x aizen plz Drink from me 💜🖤 ➜ sure love! I hope you like Aizen's end of chrysalis form :3 ✦ tw: Gods AU. NSFT. mdni. Aizen is a God (based on his name; Aizen-Myōō is the japanese budhis Wisdom King and god of love and erotism. learn more here) inspired on his end of chrysalis form (long hair, purple eyes) with some addings such as jewerly. oral sex. cum swallowing. Total control over reader. praising kink. ✦ wc: 1.2k ✦ masterlist

Is there any other way to show how devoted you are to a God than letting yourself be completely taken by him?

Resting on his lap, like a pet, you spend your days as his faithful servant. He wants you completely naked; his hands can cover your breasts if someone wants to talk to him. You are his property, nothing else’s but his.

“What is it, (Name)? Smile, for a darkened Sun will only bring sadness to your God” He says, as notices you aren’t smiling.

All your muscles stiffen up; whenever Aizen-sama gives you an order in such tone you are afraid of what could happen if you were to face such strong power.

“Y- yes, my God. I’m so sorry” you apologize, taking his hands to your forehead. Your skin shines with the many candles around and your breasts graze the dangling golden and silver jewels of his body.

Aizen’s lips curl in a deathly smirk as he tilts his head to the side.

“Come on, kneel on the ground for me” he commands, helping you stand up from his lap. His touch is always so delicate, and yet the moment his fingers graze yours you instantly feel weak and powerless.

Your knees are already red as they are used to the hard floor underneath them. Your hands rest on your thighs almost on their own. And your head, as he has instructed you, bow before him.

You can feel Aizen-sama, God of love and erotism, standing up. His white coats hang perfectly, so finely, from his shoulders and hipbones. The sound of his many dangling collars and jewels reverberates all around his stance.

He passes his hand under your chin, lifting it to make eye contact with you. His particular orbs, purple and white fix on yours, and his chocolate long brown hair flows with the soft breeze of the High Plane of Heaven.

Your God smirks. Him who turns lust into enlightenment, can also do the opposite. Aizen-sama, leaves you breathless and dumb; As if he was sucking the smart out of your brain, you always subdue to him like an unwilled creature.

“Open big” he commands, placing his thumb on your lower lip to softly pull it down. You stick the tip of your tongue out, tasting the skin of his fingertips.

Aizen brushes your hair back, like a soft caress. He is gentle with you, but always as a way of preparing you to destroy you. Because that’s him, soft, loving and innocent. And then he can also be the darkest of Gods, becoming your worst enemy… just like love is.

His flowy white coverings disappear in the blink of an eye. His skin, barely touched by the sun, as always looks delicious. The purple orb, that you were told to never touch shines in the middle of his chest. Aizen-sama has no heart; but he also has the heart of a million souls.

Your eyes go down from his also purple eyes, down his chest and abs. You stay for some split seconds admiring his lower belly. The valley that leads down to his sex, surrounded by his protruding hipbones.

As everything on him, he is different from any mortal; shaft so deliciously shaped that you have always thought could be done to pleasure others. The right length, curve and texture that always makes you scream and mewl. It gets ready, veiny just right, throbbing for you.

His veiny hand grabs it, pumping ever so softly up and down while he sits back and calls you with a beckoning finger to come to him. No, Aizen won’t ever walk to you, you will crawl to him.

“My God…” you whisper, coming closer, asking for permission to even taste the drop of precum that falls from the tip of his sex.

“Go ahead, (Name). Just as you know, show your God how much of a goof devoted girl you are”

You comfortably fit in between his legs that are spread so you can get perfectly closer. Your lips first graze his warmth, and then, little by little you rejoice in the ambrosial taste of his drops.

Your teeth barely brush against the first centimetres of his shaft, making him moan in such a sweet, adorable way. You look at his countenance while he does, getting drunk on the image of Aizen’s pleasure smirk.

And it’s not until his gland reaches your throat, that he puts his hand on top of your head. He allows you to move freely at first, testing your skills to satisfy him as if it was some kind of offering. And, it’s exactly that. It is your sacrifice for him to be praised.

But Aizen wants to hear from you the most sinful melody, too. And your moaning seems not to be enough for his ears… before he grabs a fistful of your hair, he makes you stop sucking.

“Surrender completely to my control, (Name)” he orders, with a dark aura under his eyes. Aizen caresses your cheek with the back of his index and violently squeezes your face. Your mouth opens in response, big enough for your throat to be seen from where he is.

You manage to nod as he is in real control of your head, and probably your body too as it has gone numb for some reason. It’s either his power, of your own mind forcing you to comply with his orders.

Once he lets your face off he guides his own sex into your mouth, pushing with his hips against your throat. It makes you gag in response, and the sound of your lack of air mixes with the way he scoffs at it.

Aizen moves now more than before. He is not worried by your wellbeing; he is just using your mouth as any of your other holes.

“Good girl… your mouth is so warm and wet…” he grunts, while he forgets you need to breathe from time to time. He presses your head against him, your nose squished into his pelvis allowing his holly scent to penetrate your brain. The tears that flow from the corner of your eyes blur your vision, but even though, you still manage to look his muscles clenching the more you choke with his sex.

Aizen uses his -almost inexistent- sense of humanity and pulls his dick out of your mouth. You take all the air that surrounds you in a big gasp, and he laughs. “Sorry, honey… I sometimes forget you still need to breathe”

You don’t mind. You are there to please him. You hurry to recuperate and stick your tongue out to reach for his hard rock cock once again.

“Aizen-sama, thank you for the air” you murmur, kissing his inner thigh in holly reverence at his anatomy before he could bury himself into your throat once more. And when he does, he goes even deeper.

He even lifts from his chair a little bit, because it’s just not enough anymore. He wants to enjoy the bulge forming in your neck from his sex shoved into your mouth and beneath.

“Ngh… get ready to be fed on me, sweet little one. You deserve it” he growls, something he has never allowed you to do is gonna be a first time today; you were never allowed to drink from his seed, a blessing you had to earn with your hard work.

Your eyes shine, looking up at him with great enthusiasm. You want to taste, you want to swallow and drink from your God…

With one last thrust, he stays inside despite your little coughs and gags. You can feel the pressure of his size being forced not to slip a little bit out, your scalp has stopped hurting so you even enjoy the way he pulls from your hair not to move.

The balsamic, warmth drops bathe the inside of your throat and overflows to your mouth once it’s been enough. Your eyes go blank as Aizen-sama’s when ecstasy hits him.

You could have prayed for your hands to touch yourself, but, you can’t even move. You don’t dare too. The pooled wetness that has formed underneath you is enough to show your God how much of a sexual delight it was for you to please him.

“I want every drop inside of your stomach, ok? That will be your only water from now on” he says. Aizen softly grazes your cheek, cleaning the tears off your face as you swallow everything down your throat.

“Ye-yes, Aizen-sama. Thank you for your blessing, Aizen-sama”  

[obae-me]

Upside Down- CH 13

Warning: Vivid descriptions of nausea and sickness, alcohol, swearing. As Always, Read Safely.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

Eat Me

---

There were many things you had seen throughout your long life. Not much caught you by surprise anymore. However, this… what was a good word for it? Atrocity? Monstrosity? An amalgamation of vile sponge sent from the very depths of the darkest parts of the realms? Summoned forth by the most forbidden rituals in an attempt to taint your soul and flood your blood with the whispers of contemptible desires?

It wasn’t just a cake, that was for certain.

No. It was a curse covered in frosting. And it dug up a primordial and raw panic in you.

The first bite had been fine. In hindsight, it was probably your senses frozen in shock. Some form of survival instinct unlocked to protect you. It was rather tasteless. The texture was all off, somehow crumbly and yet…almost slimy at the same time. It went down rough, as if your body was doing everything it could to prevent it from heading down into your stomach. A tingling was left in your throat, and by the time you had taken your third bite, something rotten inside you was burning. You covered your mouth with your hand, setting down your fork and taking several minutes trying to get to the bottom of how this dessert was so…awful. So many conflicting senses sent your mind swirling. While you weren’t exactly a gourmand, you could tell that Infernal, Mortal, and Holy ingredients were used. Each profile conflicted the other, and quite like the people of each realm themselves, they were fighting to stand on their own. Rather than blend together smoothly to create a robust experience, it tasted as if you had taken a bite of several different meals and chowed down on them at the same time. Fighting each other even culinarily… You would almost be tempted to sit back and think of it poetically if it wasn’t seconds away from coming back up and defiling these graves.

The human beside you mindlessly took more of the cake and swallowed several more bites. Fascination and horror roused within you. It seemed that rather than tasting it, Beel was swallowing the chunks whole, more focused on filling up his stomach than savoring the treat. If you could even call it such a thing. But eventually, he came to his senses, reaching the same conclusion you did, setting down his fork and giving you an awkward side glance. He cleared his throat and searched his mind for the proper words to give. “This is…uh…” He hesitated to even lick his lips for fear of picking up more remnant of the taste.

“Horrible,” you finished for him.

Beel’s face turned apologetic. “I appreciate you taking the time to…make this—“

The words nearly broke you out in a cold sweat. It’s not that you felt you needed to upkeep your reputation for a human, but there was no way on the devil’s scorched earth that you were going to be associated with this dining disaster. “No!” The desperation to your own voice caught you off guard. “I mean, I didn’t make it. A…” You would say acquaintance, even coworker, but now you were wondering if Solomon was in fact an enemy. Olive branch, he said. More like declaration of war. An assassination attempt. Did he do this on purpose to make you look bad in front of the humans you were supposed to protect? Was there some secret message behind the venom inside the cream? “Someone I know made it… I…” Why were you suddenly so flustered? So embarrassed? You were a demon for sin’s sake! You could simply kill a human for looking at you with a crooked eye! Yet, it was probably because of the way this Morningstar was looking at you that had you so thrown off. Like he was appreciative of the cake even though it was perhaps the most inedible thing he had ever held in his hands. Like he would keep eating it if you asked him to, his fingers already brushing against the utensil like he was waiting for your approval. Was he really so gluttonous as to be ready to eat even if it made him sick, even if it killed him? Why? To please you? No, it didn’t quite seem like that. He was kind, yes, but he wasn’t a doormat. Something in him was starving. Something past his mouth, past his stomach, settled all the way into the depths of his soul was clawing at him from the inside. You knew this sensation too. This emptiness.

Guilt.

Hopelessness.

Loss.

The food he was eating was another distraction. Just like Mammon’s shimmering trinkets and Levi’s flashing lights, Beel allowed himself to get absorbed in his own form of self comfort. Each brother seemed to be engulfed in their own little world, swallowed up by their sin and just barely keeping their head afloat. These humans were all drowning, one hand outstretched, waiting for someone to pull them to safety…

You reached over and closed the lid to the take-out box, half tempted to set it ablaze to ensure it would be purified to ashes. However, aside from the fact that it might cause the human to panic, you had to wonder what sort of dangers the toxins in the air would cause… You’d have to dispose of it cleverly. Perhaps manage to open a rift into outer darkness and chuck it where even the fates couldn’t reach. You stood up.

“You don’t have to throw it away.” Beel reached out, almost appearing a bit panicked. This surprised you. You had assumed that this behavior was caused by the death of his sister, but suddenly you had the sense that this was a deep-seeded issue, something that had been with him for a while, exacerbated with Lilith’s passing. The human managed to read your confusion, shifting uncomfortably as he could feel your analyzing thoughts. “I don’t like anything to go to waste,” he explained. “I don’t remember too much of my life before Lucifer brought me home, but…” Beel searched for the words, the memories painful, but still managing to smile. “Every crumb is precious to me. You never know how long it’ll be before you can eat again.”

There was a stirring inside you, and not just the concoction in your stomach. You turned your head up, trying to look past the pollution to see the stars. Something about his sad words poked at old memories. Faded messages from someone your soul refused to forget. What was it they used to say?

“Every second is precious to me. You never know when it will be your last.”

Humans were so fragile. And yet, somehow they continued to thrive. Through war and despair and starvation and destruction they struggle and fight to survive. Even if doing so only adds mere seconds to their lives, they will spill blood to claim those last few seconds.

Greedy things.

Had they fought for more precious seconds right before the end?…

You snapped yourself out of your daze. “Trust me, you’re not wasting anything by not eating this.” The box tucked under your arm, your other hand grabbing Beel’s outstretched hand to help him up. “The sun will be rising soon, we should probably get back before people start waking up.”

A surprising warmth flooded your body as Beel’s hand slipped into yours. He got to his feet before his touch dropped from yours, hurrying back into the pockets of his jacket. He looked down at Lilith’s grave and nodded. “Talk to you soon… I’ll bring Belphie with me next time, I promise.” Silence lingered over the graveyard for moment before he gestured for you to follow him. “We can get out this way.”

The human walked a few steps away from you, your own feet prepared to follow before a faint whisper echoed behind you. It was quiet, so much so, you almost convinced yourself it had been the wind. But even so, the familiar tone to the voice immediately brought tears to your eyes. You turned, almost calling out an old name before the sensation you felt faded. Your hand pressed over a panging in your chest, an old wound that tempted to tear back open. Before you could think anything of it, you brushed it aside as you hearing things. Madness. Auditory hallucinations probably brought about by the unknown ingredients in the cake Solomon made. You had been thinking about them a lot more than usual lately, and now your mind was conjuring up things. That was all. You glanced down at Lilith’s grave.

It was strangely peaceful here.

“Something wrong?”

You turned your head back at Beel before shaking it. “Just hearing things.” In a few steps, you were at his side. As you stood directly next to him, you couldn’t help but stare at him. Something felt…off, but you couldn’t quite discern what it was. A certain detail was different enough for you to notice, but not obvious enough to place. Like how you can tell someone had disturbed a room you’d walked into, but not being able to figure out what had been touched.

Where most people might’ve been off-put by your staring, he simply held your gaze, raising an eyebrow. The longer you looked, the more a little blush seemed to form on his cheeks. He rubbed at the corner of his lips and found a stray dab of frosting, wiping it away on his pants. “Did I get it?” He asked, assuming he’d discovered what you were observing. Letting it go for the time being, you nodded, but something was still bothering you.

The human began to lead you towards the direction you both had come in. Unlike his other two brothers you’d made pacts with, either he wasn’t the particularly curious type, or he knew when to keep questions to himself. He didn’t bother prodding further on how you’d found him or how you knew how to sneak inside or even how you knew he left. He was only focused on getting you two out of there. Near the inside of the fence was a little bush, Beel headed towards it and pulled out a green plastic milk crate. He pushed it towards the perimeter and stood on top of it, bending his knees a little and waving you over. “Here, I’ll help you over.” He laced his hands together and again encouraged you to get closer to him.

It wouldn’t do to simply jump over like usual. So, playing along like a proper human, you placed your foot in his palms. He held you carefully, raising you up and letting you kneel on his shoulders. All the while worrying over you to be careful. You pretended to struggle pulling yourself over, entertaining yourself as you hit the ground on the other side. Beel rushed over, leaping over in such a frenzy, his jacket sleeve tore a little on one of the metal pickets. He nearly fully scooped you up off the ground, picking you up by the small of your back and settling you back on your feet.

“Are you okay?” He worried over you, and while you didn’t particularly care for humans, the attention had the end of your hidden tail twitch. You touched at the fabric of his sleeve with a little frown, wondering if you had taken your act a little too far. Even as you were fiddling with it, he didn’t fret over it. “You’re not hurt or anything?”

“I’m alright,” you responded bluntly, walking a bit down the sidewalk. You approached a public bin and promptly threw the box containing the cake away. You heard Beel strut up behind you, moaning a bit at even just the thought of what it tasted like. “I need to go home and eat something to get rid of that flavor… I should still have that pudding left.” He began to go on a little ramble, daydreaming about different treats. The mood seemed to brighten as he went over his list of snacks he would be consuming as soon as he got his hands on them. His feet began moving as his mind trailed away. Then he stopped, looking over his shoulder at you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Actually…” You looked down the opposite direction, down the street. “There’s something I’m going to check on first.”

“Oh. Alright. Be safe, okay? Weird things have been happening at night lately. Lucifer keeps pestering us to stay inside. And then of course, he stays out himself…” While almost everyone mentioned their older brother with a bit of anger, Beel only harbored concern and admiration when he spoke of Lucifer. Rather than getting hung up on his older brother again, he moved on from the subject. “Thanks for checking on me… You’re pretty nice. I see why Mammon and Levi like you. See you later.” Without another word, he turned away from you, walking along the streets that would take him back to the house. You stood in place and waited till his frame dissipated in the darkness.

A sigh left your lungs. Your stomach rumbled in a little bit of pain.

“Lucifer…”

Even from the sidewalk across the street from the building, you could pinpoint the window to Lucifer’s office. The light was faint, but still active nonetheless. With a slight roll to your eyes, you approached the front doors, grasping the long and golden vertical handle. It rattled. Locked. With a huff, you took a step back. Of course this was just a waste of time. Why did you think coming here was a good idea anyway? Was it the look on Beel’s worried face? Were you so easily persuaded by a human you had hardly come to know? A swift turn of your feet had you pointing in the direction where you had just come from. But something stopped you. Not quite a voice like before, but like a guided thought, one that didn’t quite feel like your own. It sent a shiver down your spine, bringing about the sensation of deja vu, the same phenomenon you felt earlier just as you were leaving the graveyard. A series of emotions that you roughly translated.

Check on him, please.

A heavy growl left your lungs as you rounded the building to try to find access in through the back. A ripple crossed over your body, shielding your body from view, feeling the comfort that came from not being perceived. You couldn’t stay here for long. You already made a promise to your pact-mates and Simeon that you’d conserve your magic where you could. Even now you were almost trudging your feet, worn out. As you rounded the corner of the structure, you suddenly froze. Magic that was not your own flooded the alley. It was strong, every weave working to repel you from this place. If it weren’t for Solomon’s charm, you might’ve even been pushed all the way back down to the Devildom. It zapped your strength, stirring the remains of the poison in your stomach.

Just across the way from you, leaving the alley from the opposite direction, was a tall man. The source of the magic rang out from his aura, the remains of a spell twinkling off his hands. Was it him? Was he the one going around and protecting this place? Was he the one guarding the Morningstar home as well? Why? Even with the coat across his shoulders, you could tell his build was wide and statuesque. Striking red hair swayed in the breeze and caught the rays of the peeking sunrise, making his presence blaze for a single moment before he turned out of view and sauntered off. You raised an eyebrow, tempted to follow, but giving up on that desire rather quickly. You’d stalked enough human men today. Still… who was he?

The spell hummed in your ears, refusing to leave anytime soon, almost convincing you to give up on Lucifer entirely. But with a silent grumble, you stepped further in to check the back door. Unsurprisingly, it was also locked, but you expected as much. It would simply be easier to break in from here. Rather than use a key like normal people, it seemed that these little number-pads were the way to grant access around here. A quiet demonic spell was chanted in the base of your throat, sparks dancing between your fingertips. You pressed your hand against the numbers and listened to the internal mechanism fry. It chirped as it died and glared at you with a little red eye. For a moment, you wondered if you’d have to resort to breaking in the door or a window. But then just before your hopes of destruction got too high, the eye turned green as you heard a click. You put the brick back down. Whoever put that stupid warding magic here didn’t think everything all the way through, did they?

You smugly entered the building, wandering through the back room and out into the main lobby. You paced around for a little while until you found the metal plating that you recently learned was called an elevator. Humans found the strangest ways to make things easier for them. Normally you’d avoid the flimsy metal box, but part of it fascinated you. You tapped at the buttons and had to restrain yourself from eagerly hitting all of them just to watch them light up and make a satisfying bing. The doors opened and you stepped inside, selecting the floor you knew Lucifer’s office was located.

As the elevator lurched upward, so did your stomach. Everything seemed to swirl around you for a few agonizing seconds, some sort of motion sickness overtaking your senses. The base of your throat clenched as you worked to keep yourself sick. Every muscle in your body tensed. You focused entirely on keeping yourself hidden. The doors opened, the movement stopped, but the sensation didn’t. You crawled your way out of the elevator, trying not to gasp in pain. Working on your breathing, fighting against your own body to settle down.

That cake was doing something to you…

The current wave of sickness passed, a faint tingling sparking through your body. You shuffled your way up to your feet, holding onto the end of some random desk.

The office was empty. Almost every light turned off except for a few. Lucifer’s office was illuminated. His door was wide open…

Panic. Anxiety. You hobbled forward, doing your best to stay silent as you sprinted towards his office door. There had been something odd about the whole thing. You should’ve followed your gut. Maybe that other human had done something. Maybe they weren’t being protected at all… Maybe something had happened. Was he—

As you burst silently into the room, you had to cover your mouth to hold in your breath. The eldest Morningstar was face-down on his desk, hand limply holding a pen. The screen of his computer was still lit up, in the middle of some project. No. No, no, no… You approached his body with a tight chest, imagining the look on his brother’s faces if you had to come home with bad news. Imagining the reprimand you’d get from Simeon once he found out the human had been harmed. Your adventure was over just as you felt like it was starting. You didn’t smell any blood, and you didn’t sense any other magic aside from the human’s from earlier. Careful fingers touched the side of his neck.

Lucifer’s head shot up.

Instinct kicked in before you could stop yourself. Luckily, instead of tearing him to shreds, you simply pushed him, sending him out of his chair and onto the floor. He groaned sleepily, sitting up and grasping the sides of his head. Clearly he was dazed and confused…and perhaps a bit hungover. The smell of human alcohol was now clear.

He had simply passed out.

Your teeth gritted, hands held in front of you in a choking motion, imagining yourself fully throttling him by his scrawny little neck for getting you…unnaturally…perturbed. Then you covered your face, exasperated at yourself for getting so caught up in random emotions.

Lucifer reached up to press his palm against his desktop, clearly exerting himself trying to stand.

It would be…so easy to push him over right now.

You were ready to do it, only two seconds away from sweeping his leg before you heard some sort of shuddering gasp as he settled himself on his feet. The eldest of humans, the biggest pain in the tail you’d come to meet, the man you wouldn’t even want to talk to in your dreams… was on the verge of tears. You took a single step back to observe him slumping back into his office chair, rasping out a curse, looking at his phone and the time and his work before leaning forward and placing his face in his hands.

Now you simply felt…maybe a small bit of repentance. Guilty for being so tempted to quite literally kick a man while he was down. Turning your head to avoid looking at him, you took the steps to walk back out of his office. Past the receptionist’s desk and around the corner of the cubicles, you had remembered seeing a small nook that resembled a mini kitchen; cabinets and a fridge and whatnot. You headed off in that direction and began to rifle through a few things. It didn’t take you too long before you found an empty paper cup. One jaunt over to the nearby water dispenser, and you snuck back towards the office.

Lucifer was in the same position as before, and it was difficult for you to tell if he was crying or simply processing his inebriated thoughts. While his eyes were covered, you settled the cup of water down beside the empty shot-glass. You were really pushing your luck with this, but… you were entitled to do something after pushing him over. This was just making up for that. You didn’t want to owe anything to Lucifer. Now you were even.

Spotting the couch again, you sat down, leaning back and keeping yourself from sighing as you looked out the window.

Great. Now you could relate to this asshole. How infuriating.

“Hm?” Half-lidded eyes finally were free from his hands as he noticed the paper cup before him. Befuddled, he picked it up and smelled it, probably wondering if he’d poured himself another shot. The way he arched his eyebrow almost had you chuckling. “When did I…?” He was clearly quite perplexed. Although, after rubbing his eyes and his forehead for several minutes, he somehow came to the conclusion that he’d gotten it himself. He downed the water quickly with a groan, staring at his computer screen. Any normal being at this point would quit for the day, finding some way to hobble home. This…muddle of a man left you stupefied as he defied all reason, ignored all good sense as he stood, rubbing the back of his head, clearly ready to get back to work. “I need more coffee…”

As he left his office, staggering as he tipped left and right, you kept yourself from scoffing. You had to be kidding. What kind of idiotic, self-sabotaging, prideful moron would go so far as to isolate himself and—

Wait.

No. No this was not the same! Not the same thing. He was a human, it was different! This wasn’t about pride, this was about… something totally unrelated! You and Lucifer were so far from each other, you… you…

You couldn’t think of a proper dispute for yourself.

Maybe it was true… Maybe you were alike, in some aspects. Pushing others away to save face, only to hurt yourself in the process. Pushing yourself to the brink of death just to…to what, prove a point?

What was it you were trying to prove anymore?… You couldn't remember...

Lucifer seemed fine. Well, alive and walking at least. Safe for the moment. You stood up once more, satisfied and frustrated with the events that had just taken place. All you’d come out here for was to show the little voice in the back of your head that the human was unharmed. Now you’d just… go back home— to the home. The Morningstar home. Not your home. Your home was in the Devildom.

Oof. Your thoughts were getting all sorts of jumbled, weren’t they? Sweat started to bead down your forehead. The droplets were cold. Too cold. Like you were much too hot… That was weird.

An intense cramp ran through your entire body, your muscles seized up, your frame crumpling to the floor. For a moment you writhed, reaching out to pull yourself forward, but missing the furniture. It squeaked harshly as you ended up pushing it away from you instead. Panting, gasping, you nearly left claw marks in the flooring as you grasped it again, pulling yourself up to your knees.

The noise alerted the human approaching the office, coming back in as adrenaline rushed through his veins. You could only pray he didn’t see you. Covering your mouth, you held back a scream as another throb forced your vision to go blurry.

Don’t…get…found out…

Crawling behind the shelter of the couch, you forced the sick to stay in your body.

“Who’s there?!”

Hide…Hide away from it all…Then you won’t…

…

A messed up swirl of colors crossed your vision. You reached out a hand and rolled over onto your stomach before collapsing again. By the next time you opened your eyes, even if it felt like only a second, you could tell time had passed. It was a bit brighter now, although wherever you were was still blanketed by shade. Every limb in your body felt weak. Fully opening your eyelids might as well have been like asking you to climb from the lower ring of hell all the way to the tallest tier in heaven in under seven minutes. It took several more attempts before you could press your hands to your head. It took even longer to finally sit up.

You felt like death. Which was rather hilarious considering just the other day you had nearly actually died. Whatever this was felt worse. Every breath you took made you queasy. For too many minutes, you assumed you were back in the Devildom, waking up to the worst hangover you’d had in your vast life. But then the memories slowly started to trickle in. Although there was a very clear black spot in your memory. The last thing you remembered, you had snuck into Lucifer’s office. And now you were… Where were you exactly? Everything was a blur. Blinking didn’t exactly clear up your vision.

This didn’t look like an office. Didn’t look like anywhere…

A long roof covered your head, but this room had no walls, letting light from the outside flood in at all sides. A pergola of some kind? There was no furniture in this place either, just clear floor in all directions around you. Odd. Your limbs fumbled around for a while, struggling to stand up, and once you were on the flats of your feet, it was even harder to stand straight. Slowly, you carefully wobbled your way towards one of the open entrances to try and figure out just where in the three realms you ended up in.

Light flashed across your eyes as you stepped out of the shade. A headache throbbed through your temples as you blinked spots away. Looking in front of you, you saw a field of tall grey grass. Wait… grey grass? Were you seeing things? Looking up you noticed a… white not-so-blue sky. In fact, it looked more like a high ceiling. And a ways away on the other side of the field was a dark brown, almost black building settled next to a giant oddly shaped mountain, that sort of resembled a—

Oh… Oh no. Saints and Sinners alike, say it wasn’t so. No!

A hand clasped over your lips as you stumbled back into the dark, losing your balance and falling to the floor. Both panic and shaky legs kept you from standing up quite yet. You remained hidden in the shadows of the cover overhead, peering out into the open space with clenched teeth. This was a dream. A horrid nightmare in fact. It had been several ancient years since you ever remembered having something akin to a nightmare, but this had to be one of them. A cold chill covered every inch of your skin. You felt clammy. Nauseated. Unable to breathe. Calm, you had to tell yourself. If you freak out too much, you will be sick.

Sick. Right! You had been poisoned. Did he— Did that—

Did Solomon’s messed up cake shrink you?!

Dread began to swirl with anger. When you… When you managed to get your hands on that pesky little angel, you would— Not the time. You could fantasize fondly about that later. Right now, you had to fix this. But… how? How would you undo this? This didn’t feel like any regular hex that an enchantment would reverse. If you had ingested this… it stood to reason you needed an antidote. Wait! Beel… Beel had consumed the cake too… Was he in the same position as you? If he was, he was probably freaking out right now. Had he made it home?! Or was he now outside, completely vulnerable. Bite sized for whatever demon wanted a Morningstar snack… Or what if it did something worse to him? He was only a human after all… What if he… You tugged at your hair a bit as your tail thrashed behind you.

This was bad. Really bad. Truly and utterly terrible.

Order of operations… To find Beel, you needed an antidote. To get an antidote, you needed to get ahold of Simeon or Solomon. You felt around your clothes, feeling your pockets for your phone. Nothing. It seemed whatever magic was at play here kept you clothed, but didn’t shrink your phone with you…Solomon’s charm was still there too. You wouldn’t question how that worked. Don’t think too deeply into how magic works. Just don’t. Please. It would be a waste of energy you couldn’t afford to lose. If this was still Lucifer’s office, and you collapsed in here, your device should still be somewhere here…

Walking forward tepidly, you peeked out from the cover that you’d come to the devastating conclusion was the underside of the couch. If you had to guess, right now you were probably no bigger than the average index finger… Lucifer was no longer at his desk. His office door closed. However, the glow from the monitor was still on, and his black leather business bag was still slumped against the floor. He was still in the building somewhere, which meant you had to be careful. For, as much as you were trying, you couldn’t cloak right now… Or hide your demon form. If someone caught you…if someone caught Beel… As your pact mates would say it: Game Over.

You rushed out from under the couch to scan the office for your phone. You checked the rug, against the walls, by the window, under the desk, but nothing. Lucifer must’ve found it… Now you’d have to try to answer how your phone wound up in his office… and hells, the couch! He’d seen it move! What if he connected your phone to… First you’d have to worry about finding Beel and getting back to normal. If you had no way to contact the others, you’d have to figure out how to get home. If you could get back to Mammon and Levi, they could contact Simeon or Solomon for you, and then the hunt for Beel could start. But how would you make it all the way back to the house?…

There was only one clear solution to that. Lucifer.

If you could tuck yourself into his work bag, you could probably escape undetected. But you couldn’t just wait around for him to decide to go home, not when Beel’s life was at stake! You would have to figure out a way to send Lucifer home now. But how?…

Pacing around back and forth only served to make you dizzy. You leaned heavily against one of the couch’s legs. Get him to stop working…get him to stop work… Wait, work! His work! Destroy his addiction! Can’t keep working if there’s no work to work on! You would stop saying work now.

Jogging over to his desk, you spotted a single long black cord poking through a little hole in the wood. The lifeline of the computer. Controlled by more feral thoughts than usual, you ran over to it and sunk your teeth into it, tugging till the cord snapped. A fierce jolt ran through your body as the electricity sparked for a moment, but then you shook it off. Stepping out from under the desk and looking up, you noticed the monitor had gone black. Perfect.

The door latch clicked.

Scrambling, you bolted towards Lucifer’s bag. You wriggled yourself under the leather flap only to discover it was mostly decorative. The bag itself was still closed with a zipper. But for the moment you were hidden, working hard to keep your horns from puncturing through the thing.

You heard the door fully open as the familiar click of Lucifer’s steady cadence struck the ground. “…and all I need to do is plug it into the computer?” His voice held firm, not like he had sounded when you found him blacked out at his desk. Vibrations ran through your body as he stepped closer and sat at his desk. Frantic tapping at his keyboard could be heard before he held back a curse. His fist hit the desk. “It’s not working, it’s… Hold on. You’ve got to be kidding me…” He must’ve discovered your little act of sabotage.

All the while, you had found the tag to the zipper, both hands clutched around it as you slowly pulled it back, making no noise. Once an opening was large enough for you to slip through- which in this scenario, wasn’t very much- you tucked yourself inside. It was rather packed in here…not only did you have to worry about getting discovered, but now you were worried about being squashed between thick binders and files and who knows what else. You tried to hole yourself inside a pocket to keep yourself out of view. And now you could only blasphemously pray to not be found. If angels were listening to your pleas, you hoped that cursed cherub was listening to every personal thought and comment you had to say about this predicament. Maybe if you thought hard enough, his ears would burn off.

“The computer…it’s fine, I can access it at home.”

Yes!

“Just connect it to my computer, open the email you sent me, and you swear this will unlock the phone?”

…Wait…

“Under usual circumstances, I’d tell you to mind your business. But in this case, I feel like it’s fair to say it’s from the same person you’ve failed to run a background on.”

…Shit.

“Don’t you think it’s rather pathetic for me to have to do your job for you? You better hope this little ‘key’ of yours doesn’t disappoint me as well.” Lucifer huffed as it appeared he ended the call early. You could nearly feel the rage and frustration rippling off of him as he addressed his broken computer, pushing his chair back and letting it roll and hit against the back wall. Your whole world was rocked as the bag was picked up off the floor. “Utterly ridiculous… Losing my mind…” You heard the human mutter.

What an absolutely, utterly, terribly, impossibly horrible human! And to think, you’d almost felt some small modicum of… pity for him! You’d checked on him and made sure he was okay, and this was how he was treating you now? Trying to break into your phone?!

Sweat seemed to bead more down your face. The jostling of the bag wasn’t helping your current weakened condition. And now you were running cold with panic. If Lucifer got into your phone… you can’t even recall what you had written down over text… Did you mention you were a demon? He’d see those texts from Simeon… No…you couldn’t let him do that.

Lucifer continued to walk quickly, making his way through his work building with top speed. A car door opened. Then your mind flipped and the personal hell of your own making roughly hit something and tumbled. More agony flooded your body as all the air was pushed out of your lungs, feeling crushed in all directions. He’d really just thrown you in the car, didn’t he? Ouch… You had to struggle to keep your consciousness. There was too much at stake to simply pass out now, no matter how tempting the sweet darkness was.

Find Beel, unshrink yourself, and now keeping Lucifer from figuring you out…

Hells…how could this little nightmare get any worse?

Tag-List

(Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this list!) 

@rayanicaraynbow

@designatedbreadbox

@qrowsofafeather

@crystal-freak24

@coffeeandtealol

@crxwned-mxnarch​

@your-next-daydream​​

@josiedoesdoodles

@zerchlia

@xxrougefangxx

@hearts4aloise

@lex-icon

@hobin-gnoblin

[pcheyes]

winter dates w nishimura riki

pairings: riki x poc fem reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

synopsis: you n rikis cute winter date after the macys parade

after the macys thanksgiving day parade was over, they decided to stay in new york for a bit more

which to no one’s surprise makes riki ecstatic (he is whipped for u)

you live in new york so you had been waiting to hang out with riki more.

he texted you that he was allowed to spend the rest of today and tomorrow in new york and he had made the executive decision to spend every moment with you <3

(i need a man like him)

after receiving the message, you got ready, picking out an outfit and doing your hair

now on this particular day, your hair wasn’t hairing

you had a million tangles

your left side looked different from your right side

and so many other problems

by the time riki came by, you were still working on your hair

you had gave him the code to your apartment so he was a little confused when he opened the door and you weren’t already waiting for him

he walked around the rest of your apartment calling out your name, eventually finding you in your bathroom with a million products out and multiple hair ties and a brush that you were seriously considering burning it outside in the dump

riki immediately noticed your frustrated state and went to help you with your hair

now riki obviously doesn’t have the same hair texture as you, so when he was in korea he was always watching videos on your hair texture

how to style it, and what products to use

at this point riki knows your hair better than you do

he literally bought one of those mannequin heads with your type of hair texture on it so he could practice

so while you were over here freaking out, riki was so ready

hes been waiting for this day for so long

he takes your comb and detangler spray and gets to work😤

he gently takes care of your hair, section by section, and finishes detangling it in 6 minutes (he made you time him)

he helped you finish your hair and once you guys finish you give him a kiss for his “amazing styling” (his words)

as you guys headed out the door, you pulled out your navigation because apparently living in new york your whole life does not help your sense of direction whatsoever (its okay mine sucks to) 

you guys avoided the subway because he probably would’ve been spotted so riki called his manager to drive you guys to your date spot

you both decided to go to rockafeller center and go ice skating

now, at first riki was excited but then he remembered that he hasnt skated since that one en o’clock

boy was shaking in his boots, but he still wanted to go skating with you because you absolutely love skating<3

you’re a new york native so you’ve been skating since you were a little girl

riki argues you’re a better skater than sunghoon and he will fight anyone who says otherwise

(he has almost fought sunghoon who challenged you a while back to a skating duel)

as you guys pulled up to the rink you got the skates and got out on the ice.

ar first riki was a little wobbly but you helped him a little bit with his balance.

at first he held onto your shoulders from behind like one of those little supports for kids

at first you got a little annoyed but you actually found it funny

you decided to show him some tricks you could do and boy when you do

he looks at you like you held the stars and the moon

to him you looked the most gorgeous in this moment

doing a little twirl and looking back at him with the brightest smile

brighter than the tree in rockafeller center to him

you were confused as to why he was just looking at you and skated towards him

“you okay riki?” you asked as you look up at him holding his hand

he looked at you with those lovesick eyes and said

“yeah” as he kissed you

you were surprised that he kissed you so suddenly that you fell over

(its okay bae it happens)

after he kissed you you giggled and look at him but suddenly people crowd you and start taking photos

when you fell over his hat got knocked over and he pulled down his mask to kiss you earlier

you quickly got up on your feet and helped him up

you skated away and riki was right behind you

riki had called his manager to get your stuff and pull the car up front

you both waddled off and out the rink to the car

when you got in the car you both collapsed into a fit of giggles

while his manager was scolding him in the front seat you were in the back with riki pretending to be him while he was talking

riki dropped you off at your apartment and gave you a kiss

“even though we got discovered and i’ll probably get in trouble, this was one of the best days of my life”

he gives you a hug, one last kiss and walks back to the suv

although you do feel bad about the whole discovered thing, you enjoyed the day too

back at the rooms in the hotel all the other members were scolding him

but riki just sat there with the most lovesick grin on<3

authors note: this is my first oneshot and i was very tired writing the last half😭😭 but feedback is greatly appreciated!

[lynaferns]

I can't trust "reviewing 5 free/cheap art programs" videos.

The person trying the programs never gives enough time to familiarize themselves with it, they open it, makes a quick review about the interface and just start drawing something quick. It's good that they test it with the basic brushes first, you don't really need fancy tools to make art. But they always miss a lot of basic stuff the app provides.

And I don't mean specific tools that are usually hidden, but the tools that are right. in front. of you.

Literally watched a review of Autodesk sketchbook and the artist said they couldn't find the eraser tool. They had like FOUR (4) type of erasers just below a few basic brushes... What. Sketchbook has a ton of erasers, you can download more erasers, they are all different shapes, textures and opacities and you can turn your regular brush into an eraser if you want.

But! The person reviewing didn't stop to try stuff because they had 4 other art programs to review for the video that get the same treatment. And now idk if I can trust their judgement of the other apps, because I'm left with a feeling that my art program didn't get a fair review. I mean, sketchbook isn't perfect, it has a pretty simple interface and yeah, it could use some more features, it leaves room to improve, but come on! You didn't judge it for what it has but for what you were unable to see. Probably at least one more app didn't get a fair review either in this video.

And then you go to the comments and they are all complaining about the same things.

Youtuber : this app didn't have [feature]

300 comments : it was literally at [very visible part of the screen/intuitive button with words] :')

All the videos about reviewing art programs are the same, I'm tired. I get that they have to get the video done and they have to jump on many apps with no clue of what they are gonna find in them and have to learn to use them.

But this is such a bad way of reviewing an art program. I'm sorry but you can't speedrun the learning process.

It would be so much better if they gave each app a week of use or so, of just doodling, trying brushes and familiarizing with the app. It's better than just 1-2 hours :/

[afreakingdork]

Crush Too Much - Part 4

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see  him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something  more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“So….” Was the melodic tone of his voice when he was joking grating or was it just the fact that Leo had insufferably been avoiding said topic of your meeting with Donnie while heavily implying he was going to ask about it at any given moment. Either way, after the first 7 fake-outs, you were no longer holding your breath.

“Mhm?” The response was automatic at this point. Using his tiny plate as a useless middleman, you watched as 5 tiny sandwich triangles disappeared into Leo’s mouth.

“I sort of liked the huge piece that takes up a whole section over on the left.” He pointed towards the said piece and the two of your wound around the packed gallery to get closer to it.

“Is it because it’s blue?” It wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying the event or even his company, but you wished he would just rip the bandage off already.

He looked at your with genuine offense. “I will not be reduced to a  mere shade. I can’t believe you would think moi to be so one-note.” He placed a dramatic hand to his chest which absolutely did not help his point. When you’d first arrived at the venue, he gushed over the same brand new trademark blue crushed velvet dinner jacket he now happened to be emphasizing. One of his eyes popped open to find you unamused by the layers of nonsense he was spouting so he straightened up as if properly inspecting the art. “I was going to say I like how you can’t see the brush strokes from far away, but you can up close.”

For the first time that whole evening, he’d had an actual astute observation. The change of pace was like a breath of fresh air. This particular topic was also something you’d heard your friend mention. “I think it has something to do with relationship between color and form.” You turned to look up at the piece. The muddled shades of blue reminded you of the good parts of the evening thus far. It felt like the two of you had successfully conned your way into what was very much a public event. You'd both snatched away a good portion of the free food and no one seemed to think you were freeloaders because of Leo’s outrageous ability to fit in amongst the art crowd by just saying the most the most ridiculous things you had ever heard. Different factions of critics ate up his nonsense and you were only alerted to the deception because every time it worked out, Leo would shoot you an obnoxious wink.

“’Color and texture are ends in themselves.’”

That one sounded like a quote, but you weren’t sure. Maybe he wasn’t all mouth and had been picking up on the cacophony of conversations that drifted amongst the high ceilings. You took a sip of a sparkling cider that you had been nursing since eating a few too many deli meats. “So what kind of feeling do you get from it?” You tilted your head to one side wondering yourself. Blue was usually synonymous with sadness, but that didn’t seem right.

“Curiosity over what happened when you kept my darling brother out for several hours last week.”

You sputtered into another sip and tried not to let your choking fit disturb the other patrons. Leo patted you on the back and after you were able to force oxygen into your lungs once again, you looked up to find him gazing down at you with an self-satisfied grin spread wickedly across his face.  You wanted nothing more than to smack it right off. He'd dangled the bait in front of you all evening and you'd been able to resist. You were so mad at yourself there was little room to be mad at him. Further frustrated by your brain's lack of response, you did the next most petty thing and walked away. You dress shoes pinched your feet from their otherwise disuse.

“Aw, Y/N, come on!” He called after you and you stubbornly inserted yourself amongst a crowd of people surrounding a oozing statue of liberty sculpture. You could feel Leo catch-up, but your humility had yet to do the same. “Don’t be like that. You knew it was coming! It can be difficulty when you’re going up against a number 1 player like myself, but I’m sure by tomorrow you will deeply appreciate how hilarious that was.”

A warped reflection of the blue trickster shrugged in your glass. “But right now…?”

“You are mad, yes I got that.” The crowd dispersed to the next piece and Leo stepped up beside you.

“I thought you made the boundary lines pretty clear about Donnie the last time we talked.” You cradled the glass across your chest to telegraph that you were still closed off.

“Donnie, hm?” You weren’t looking at him, but you could just tell his eye brows were waggling.

You were just annoyed enough that you were able to mentally stomp out any flames of blush that the comment may have otherwise sparked. You had been able to strike up a few, albeit short, text conversation with Donnie since your bao meeting. The purple-themed man had even gone so far as to text you that same night about his family’s response to the food. Needless to say you lost more than a few hours of sleep just trying to get your heart to stop beating uncontrollably out of your chest.

Even though you were now only silent out of contemplation, Leo still took it as a cue to drop that particular part of the subject and return to the matter as a whole. “Fine, D is his own person! Yes, you got me! I said that, but that doesn’t mean I’m not super curious about the little impromptu date you went on!”

“It wasn’t-!”

He held up a hand to stop you. “Phrasing, don’t get to tied up in it.” He waved the hand off as if the stop signal he’d given was too serious. “I’m not saying he’s as pure as freshly fallen snow, but people don’t catch his fancy as much as things and nerd stuff do.” Leo shrugged his shoulders as if it was a silly uncontrollable fact of the universe. “So what if we don’t focus on him or the content, but maybe what you did?”

“I didn’t do anything…” You finally offered him a side glance out of how absurd the question was. He was acting like you had duped his brother somehow.

“Come on!” You hadn’t realized you were wearing Leo’s nerves thin until he actively starting to unravel. His knees buckled and his shoulders slumped down until his hands almost touched the floor. “You have to give me something. I thought you were just going to ask for his number!?”

His youthful dramatics were cute so far as it brought out the kid side of him that was far more manageable. “I asked him to go eat first is all.”

“Donnie isn’t really the one of us you can bait with food…” Still crumpled over, Leo narrowed his eyes at you.

“I don’t know what else to tell you.” It was your turn to mimic his earlier cosmically unhelpful shrug. “It’s the truth.”

Leo was uncharacteristically quiet for awhile. You lowered your drink barrier and turned to look at him. He was staring at some black and white photographs. His brow had the slightest crease in it. Just as you were about to ask, you saw his lips part instead.

“So crush, infatuation, or something else?” He was slow to turn to you for your response.

The significance of the question created a mental blowback so strong your whole frame shifted. He turned to stare and his gaze was so intense that you dropped yours to the floor. Your dress shoes shone back at you. You knocked them together at the toes ever so slightly.

“I’m still not sure.”

“Take you time…” You could hear a movement of Leo’s jacket as he presumably turned away from you. “But don’t take too long. Donnie is smart, but he’s also just as dumb as the rest of us in a lot of ways. Don’t even think about hurting him.”

“I would never!” Your gaze snapped up to meet Leo’s back. “Not intentionally… at least…”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

Your hands fisted at your sides, but Leo did his characteristic mental 180 and bounded back into his bubbly self as a carter came out with a new tray of canapés.

-

Stumbling out onto the street, the darkened sky disoriented you. Hadn’t the clock rolled over to morning. You took a few weary steps before leaning against a wrought iron fence. You used the brick they were built off of to sit your backpack down. It took some fishing, but you unearthed your phone from between your textbooks and notepads to find the time around 5am; just long enough from sunrise where the sky hadn’t reflected the oncoming dawn. Both yours and your phone’s batteries where lethally low. You sighed and packed your things back up, wrapping your coat tightly around you. Your late night cram session turned video game night had run so far over that you had no hope of getting back to your apartment for any sleep before you’d need to be on your way to your morning class. You made it several steps down the sidewalk as the loaming burden of today’s test seemed as dark as the ocean above. You needed to reorient.

The street was empty so you led a leisurely pace and closed your eyes to check your most pressing needs based on importance. The omnipresent sleep was out of the questions so you shoved that top notification to the side. In its place a new item appeared in the form of caffeine. Opening your eyes and seeing you’d made it a good way down the road without running into anything meant your luck was faring well. An energy drink this early was not something your stomach would tolerate so that meant sustenance was on the menu also. At this hour and on your current budget, you could hit a cheap coffee shop. Some of your facilities returned to you as a streetlight glowed overhead. It would also be a great place to charge your phone. Walking with more purpose now that you had a plan, the next hurdle appeared instantly: without your phone you couldn’t look up the closest or cheapest shop.

You paused, doing a minor heel turn to look up and down the street. This wasn’t an area you were really familiar with. The study group had been hosted by a classmate you’d only met this semester. After brains were thoroughly stuffed with knowledge, the video games had come out. The others, weaker to sleep, had filed out on by one until only you and the host were left. They’d ushered you out, bleary eyed, and were presumably already unconscious which meant so going back for directions was out of the question. Another breathy sigh and you resumed your trudging. You’d have to find somewhere the old fashioned way. You let instinct lead you, turning corners whenever you felt like it. On one particular street, there seemed to be a two or three people mingling down the block. You carved your path outward toward the street and saw there was some sort of break between building rows. It was the most promising lead you’d had so far. If nothing else, you could try to ask the people for directions.

Reaching the break you slowed as everything took on a dream-like quality. Lights were strung all around a plaza bathing it in a golden hue. Cute café table sets were tucked into one side and two open mini food trucks were operating out of the opposite end. The brick inlay of the space shifted outwards from a center point into a mesmerizing swirled pattern.  You stepped along a row watching the way your shoes followed the lines. It brought a smile to your face which was made all the brighter when you realized one of the trucks was serving coffees, teas, and pastries. You resisted the urge to run, but only succeeding in instead speed walking your way over.

There was a man hunched over with his back turned to you in the truck. It gave you time to nervously check their hand drawn chalkboard. You were pleasantly surprised to find the prices were reasonable the limited menu seemed tasty.

“Can I help you?”

You turned to him and started off your order with a warm drink. He commiserated on the ever approaching winter. When you ordered your pastry next he offered to warm it up and that could not have sounded any better. You thanked him and paid before remembering something else needed a pick-me-up also.

“This probably sounds ridiculous because we’re literally outside, but do you have a place where I could charge my phone?”

The man chuckled between grinding coffee beans. “You’d think we wouldn’t, but we actually have one outdoor outlet.” He wiped his hands on a cloth before pointing to the café tables. “Though it looks like someone’s using it so you’ll have to share.”

Following his finger and throwing a gratitude over your shoulder, you felt time slow. The only person in the seating area looked ethereal under the twinkling lights. His head was tipped down, but his purple hoodie was unmistakable. One of your hands moved up to your face and you pinched your cheek hard, wincing at the sharp sting. You couldn’t believe it was real. You crossed the bricked space and approached Donatello.

“Mind if I use the charger too?” It felt like an out of body experience.

“Knock yourself out, I’m only using one plug.”

He hadn’t noticed yet, that was somehow even better. You slowly set your bag on the table to fish out both your phone and charger. It took a little longer than it should have because your eyes were glued to him. He was hunched over and oddly enough, not on his phone for once. He was a bit too shaded to see, but it almost seemed like he his eyes were closed. Leaning over the table to where the socket was, you plugged your phone in.

“Wait… Y/N?” You wondered what had finally tipped him off.

“Hey, Donnie.” You smiled at him, straightening up.

“This is…” He straightened his posture and looked at you with a cocked neck. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t.” You smiled, zipping your bag up.

“I need to work out the exact calculations, but I can assure you that the odds of us running into each other outside of our respective neighborhoods in a city with a population of a little over 9 million is extremely high. There must be some kind of outside interference.” He tugged on the edges of his hoodie to cover the exposed parts of his legs.

“Trust me, I thought I dreamed you for a second.” You shook your head and took your bag from off the table.

“Does that mean you dream of me often? Your psyche better be doing me justice.” His monotone delivery didn’t read flirt, but the contents of the sentence had you swooning.

“Hm, maybe someday you can read my dream journal.” You muttered, looking back to the coffee stand.

“Ah, so you also keep a log of your dreams? There’s no exact science to it yet, but I feel as though sometime in the near future we can learn a great deal about how long-term memory is utilized in the dreamscape.” He held out a hand of glory. “Someday the future generation will look back on the data of Donatello Hamato as the greatest scholar of his time. Also, I will definitely be remembered for the presumable number of Nobel prizes I’ve been awarded.” Creating an L-shape between his thumb and first finger, he brought it to his chin as he devilishly imagined his illustrious future.

You had meant the journal bit as a joke, but you adored that he took it seriously. It didn’t keep you from being sarcastic about the rest. “Speaking of dreams…”

“I consider myself a scientist foremost and a realist after that. I've simply stated a given!”

“Ah to be young!” You crooned, shouldering you bag like it was far too heavy.

“Another unknown, I might be older than you.” He pointed out both literally and figuratively. You both shared your respective birthdays and he cackled. “I’ve got you beat!”

“Fine, but only someone with youth on their side would be out dressed like that in this weather.” You pointed down to the green branching out from between purple coverage.

The look on his face soured instantly and you debated retracting your statement. Instead he clicked his tongue and gestured for you to take a seat. You took the one across from him and could feel some sort of story coming on. “So the lair lost power and I was given not a second of peace while I alone was tasked with the repair. Unable to take the constant barrage of 'when will it be done, Donnie?' and 'what happened to the backup generator, Donnie?' nonsense any longer, I told them I needed some air. I was just going to take a walk and start anew, preferably with some music to drown them out, but my precious phone was about to die.” He groaned and wiped a hand down his face. He then reached for a drink cup that had been otherwise left forgotten. The moment he lifted it a pathetic whine struggled it's way up his throat. In an act of pure frustration, he crushed the apparently empty cup in hand. “Great! Just great!!”

“Order up!”

You gripped the table, torn between getting your much needed drink and leaving an obviously distraught Donnie behind.

“Just-" He didn’t have the energy for further words and waved you off.

“I’ll be right back!” You pressed before heading over to pick up your breakfast. Your backpack thumped against your back as you gave a meager jog to the counter. You slowed on approach, passing the chalkboard sign which gave you an idea. “Uh, can I do a last minute addition?”

“Sure! What’ll it be?” The man anchored an arm to the counter, ready. You leaned in as if it were a secret and placed the order with a hushed tone. Thankfully the barista was game and leaned into the demonstration himself. When you were done, he glanced across the plaza and pointed at Donatello. “For him?”

“Yes.” You bobbed your head.

A laugh bubbled up in the man, but he seemed to remember the classified nature of the order and cleared his throat. “That’s perfect. I love it.” You paid and he gave you a beaming smile. “Wait right there and I’ll whip it right up.”

You did as you were told with only a few nervous glances back at Donnie. The man was in a purple heap and thankfully didn’t seem to be going anywhere. You were glad you’d forgotten to take your backpack off when you had sat down.

“Here we go!” Instead of the to-go cup that both your drink and Donnie’s previous had been in, the man handed you a tall glass with a matching stirring spoon. You gawked at it in amazement. “Hurry and get it over to him before it mixes. Oh, and I’m sure you will, but be careful with the glass. We’re not actually supposed to give those out to the customers, but I figured this was a special occasion.” He punctuated his sentence with a wink and you felt almost weepy at the kindness this man bestowed upon you.

Juggling your order and the delicate cup, you brought it back over to the table. Donnie’s head was down and folded into his arms. Ypu struggled with a tinge of guilt over the fact that you were grateful for it. Hoping the reveal would at least make up for it, you steeled yourself. “Donnie…” You urged, carefully setting the glass down in front of him.

“Hrm?” He grumbled from underneath his layers. “It’s best if you just leave me. I might as well try again tomorrow.”

“Then I have bad news for you about the time.” You couldn’t keep the airy tone out of your voice. His dramatizations were too much.

“Don’t tell me it’s sunrise already!?” He raised his head and froze. His eyes widened at the concoction in front of him. In the glass was a steaming, cascading mix of rich golden coffee and purple cream. “What…?”

“It’s an ube latte.” You smiled and carefully took a seat. Setting your bag aside, you palmed your cup to warm your hands and watched as Donnie uncurled out of his ball. He gave the drink a stir with stick and you took your first delicious sip of your caffeinated beverage.

“It is my color…” He remarked with a sense of fondness. You nodded and resisted the urge to scarf down your whole pastry. The mix of food, drink, and Donnie’s rising spirits warmed your body.

He grasped the glass and took a sip. “Hmmm.” He then acted as if he were a sommelier, twirling the liquid and sniffing it between small tastings. “It’s a bit sweet for my tastes, but the nuttiness pairs really well with the espresso.”

“As long as you don’t hate it, that’s a win for me!” You nodded, just finishing off the last flaky bite.

“It’s not your responsibility to cheer me up.” Cradling the cup in a similar way for warmth, he continued to sip the beverage.

“Is that what I did? I was just thinking purple goes with purple.” You gave him a catlike grin and took a long luxurious swig of your ever emptying drink.

“I would like to reinstate the line of questioning about this being a set-up.” He pointed at you and there was an air of playfulness to the otherwise staunch delivery that was not lost on you.

“Damn, I knew the barista wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut.” You snapped your finger in frustration and both of you chuckled.

Several moments of silence passed before Donnie gave a long winded sigh. “I believe I left off when I was about to lose my phone?” His brows hung heavy with effort.

“That’s right, but you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head. “I like to finish what I start.” He leaned back in his chair and took the latte with him. “So I change course for the nearest cafe and catch a glimpse of orange which means I was definitely followed!”

In rapt attention it occurred to you that must mean his other siblings were also color coded. It seemed like it should be obvious seeing as how the only one you knew was too, but it somehow wasn’t.

“I catch up to Mikey and he says he was just worried about me, but he’s a terrible liar.” Donnie rolled his eyes. “His phone goes off and after a short grapple for the device, I find that the others are using him as a gauge to see when I had ‘calmed down’ and to give an ‘eta when the power would be back on.’” You were impressed that he was able to inject so much anger into air quotes. “Like that’s all I’m good for! They act like my emotions are just a hindrance when they pop up because I usually don’t have them!”    

Your eyes widened. That was a particularly loaded sentence. You wanted to interject to reassure him that it had never crossed your mind that he didn’t have emotions, but interrupting him didn’t seem right either.

“Cue a long winded chase where Raph and Leo came topside in pursuit and…” Donnie rolled a wrist in demonstration before flattening out for the finale. “Needless to say I lost them since it’s been… Oh.” He smacked the hand to his forehead. “I had asked about the time?”

Waking your phone up, your read off the number. “It’s almost 6am.”

“I lost them about two and a half hours ago, so I would rate it as a pretty successful escape.” He took a long swig of his drink, almost finishing it off. “Since I ran out, I didn’t have time to throw on pants as I would have if I had known I was going to be stuck out in the cold for so long.” The weight of the story lightened into his characteristic dry tone.

Finishing off your drink, you ruminated over the tale as Donnie continued to recuperate. The words ‘lair’ and ‘topside’ were jumping out to you as particularly strange. Were they a family of super villains? They didn’t seem like it, but it was such a strange word choice. You really wished you knew what they did for a living. As you came out of your thoughts, you watched Donnie chug the rest of his latte and give a long breathy exhale that seemed to blow out his concerns.

“I did not yet thank you for this.” He set the glass down with the stirrer tinkling from the movement. “Still too sweet overall, but I suppose one could say it was ‘just what I needed.’” He put on a different voice for the quote and you wondered who he was mimicking. “Though to be more accurate there were many factors that improved my current mood.” He paused, his lip pursed before eyeing you. “If you did track me, you picked a very good time to reveal your location. To reiterate: thank you.”

Oh how you wished you had any liquid left in your cup to justify hiding behind it. “Any time!” You were torn between upholding the gesture and playing your skipping heart beat off with a joke. “My sensors are specifically tuned for when Donnie is in distress.” Your mouth jumped ahead of both your brain and heart. You wanted to bang your head against the table.

Donnie, on the other hand, smiled softly. “That might be something I should consider adding to my repertoire.” He tapped his device and made a quick note with nimble fingers especially considering how many he had.

“Are you saying you track your brothers?” You wondered through a laugh. This meeting might have charged you up just as much as your breakfast had.

“Nooo…” He drew out the word and looked left to right with narrowed suspicion. "I definitely do no such thing."

That was not convincing in the slightest, but also seemed to absurd to be a real thing. It wouldn't keep you from teasing him for it though. “And you said Mikey…?” You really hoped you had gotten that name right. “Was the a bad liar?”  

“Yes, Mikey, but otherwise, I don’t care to know what you mean!” He retorted, folding his arms. Pale hues started to color the sky. You saw them as you craned back, enjoying the moment.

“I have a mid-term in just over an hour.” You told the single streaked cloud above.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Donnie banged the table with a sudden jolt and the glass cup tipped violently. Slow motion horror spread across your face as your brought uour gaze back down only to see the cup suddenly right itself before your eyes.

“Wh-“ You muttered in disbelief, raising a hand to feebly point at the action.

“No!” He ordered, pointing his own finger in a more accusatory manner. “We’ve been focused on me this whole time when I should have been questioning you! Why are you up so early? You look like you haven’t slept at all! You’re going to take a test in this state? Where’s your academic honor!? Did you even study?!”  

You stared back at him weakly. The ever growing light overhead was certainly not helping the bags under your eyes, but all you could think about was how much he must value education. That and he apparently had the reflexes of a ninja.

“If you aren’t going to answer me then get up. Up!” He flung his arms in time with the command, picking up his glass and standing himself.

You scrambled to follow suit while gathering your trash. “In my defense, I was up all night studying.” You would just leave out the gaming part out for the time being. It was something you could consider texting him as a fun teasing surprise after your class.

“An all-nighter?” He seemed utterly revolted as he strode over to the drink truck where a line was starting to form.

After watching him deposit the glass, you pouted and turned your head away as he approached. “I’m hearing a lot of lecture from the guy who is also awake… What did you say you were doing? Electrician work?”

His inhale was so sharp he almost whistled. “How dare you!? Tradespersons have honorable professions, but my arsenal includes so much more that comparing what I do to a single line of work is utterly disgraceful!” You walked out of the plaza together, but the indignity was too much for him. He rounded you and pressed a finger right to your forehead. “Apologize to me while I’ll still accept it!”

The best you could do was crinkle your overjoyed smile.

“And stop smiling! Why are you even smiling?!”

If only he knew how lucky you counted yourself.

💜 NEXT 💜

[upsidedownsmore]

Hi!! I was wondering if its okay to ask what brushes u normally use in krita? I love your art!!

Thank you so much!!! I only use the ones available in Krita by default and I tend to jump around based on what I think will work best for each piece, but I can give a little rundown on which ones I use the most and what I use them for :)

Here's an image guide with each of the brushes I've used and that I recommend checking out:

I'll highlight my favorites as well with some examples where they were predominantly used! (though in some cases multiple or even all of these brushes were used)

Marker Details:

Varying opacity and size makes this one my favorites for sketching, especially since it can easily be nearly transparent or fully opaque which helps with value range.

I also like using it for silhouette sketches!

It can also be used for final linework, but it takes more work to get to a full opaque and its lack of texture makes it a little less interesting than Ink-7 Brush Rough imo.

Ink-7 Brush Rough:

Really good for linework, especially for comic styled drawings with it's slight texture, varying weight, and opaqueness.

Also good for just filling in entire areas with a single color as well as non-smoothed shading!

Wet Bristles Rough:

Actually just an amazing brush, its pressure sensitivity is crazy.

Blends strokes like paint and can vary in size and opacity.

Also has a nice subtle texture!

Amazing for smoother coloring and shading, especially if you want a more painterly style.

Watercolor Texture:

(hard to show examples of this, just assume that I've used it in any piece that has smooth shading lol)

Not the best for painting/drawing on its own, however I've found it to be really useful when set to white or black on an overlay layer for adding extra shading and/or highlighting on top of the shading I've already done.

I usually shade individual figures, objects, and parts separately, but using an overlay layer with Watercolor Texture (or even Shapes Square) on top of everything helps make the entire piece feel more cohesive.

Also adds a hint more texture!

Another thing to note is the importance of layer modes!

I know that you asked about brushes specifically, but many of these brushes (particularly those to do with effects and textures) work best when experimenting with different layer modes other than Normal. Overlay is generally a safe bet and most of the best for, well, overlaying multiple layers for interesting effects. But please try out all of them at any given opportunity, sometimes things like Burn, Color Dodge, Soft Light, etc can have more interesting effects!

In addition, mess with filter masks! You can even edit where they apply by drawing on the mask directly! HSV/HSL Adjustment (also accessible with ctrl+u) in particular is INSANELY useful for fiddling with the colors and balance of a piece, from individual layers to whole groups and drawings. I also really like blur filters, often times I'll duplicate a layer and make the bottom one blurred to add a glow affect to something without losing its definition.

While this latter stuff isn't about brushes specifically, its generally very important to how I use and experiment with all these different brushes!

Anyways I hope this helps!! I kinda went overboard with this post, but I had a lot of fun writing it! Thank you again for the wonderful ask!! :)