#uphill battle of I really want to draw it

[nocek]

dads' day out ;)

wip is here but final comic version will be a bit different because "plot" reasons ;) (if you even can call my comics a story XD)

[fiendishartist2]

//today, today, is one of those days, stuck between yesterday and tomorrow//

[witchkami]

Goodbye for a while ♡

I need to take a break for a long time. I'll explain why, but I'd like to start by saying I'm going to be pausing my Patreon's billing, which means none of my patrons will be charged any money in the time that I'm gone. Since I won't be posting art, that only seems fair to all of you.

I don't normally open up about my personal life, however this is one of those rare cases where not only do I feel I owe it to you, but I'd also like to give an explanation. Back in March of this year the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced happened to me, and I was hospitalized for a week and a half. I hope it's understandable that I don't quite feel comfortable sharing what it was, but what's important is that I am currently okay and safe.

When I got out of the hospital, I started working as soon as I could. I've always been the type of person who could still be productive and work despite any hardships I've been through, but even though the drive to create art was there, I found this time was different. It was difficult to put myself together and draw. Everything started becoming an uphill battle. Every month I would try to push myself to draw as much as I could, but I would continue to feel disappointed because of my own expectations for myself. I realized that my mental health wasn't where I wanted it to be, and it was going to take a long time to heal.

Five months later, and although I'm doing a lot better, there are still broken pieces I'm trying to put back together. Which is why I'm making the decision that I need to take a long break to focus entirely on my mental health. This is not a decision I came to easily, I really didn't want to step away for a while. I kept wanting to believe that if I just kept pushing myself then one day it would all feel normal again, but that's not how these things work. And so as sad as it makes me, I truly do think taking time off is the best thing for me right now.

I don't know how long I'll be gone. It'll probably be multiple months. I want to give myself however much time I need to feel better, and I hope you understand. I wish to come back stronger than I've been this year, and stronger than I am now. I look forward to when I will eventually return and be able to share art with you again. I make art to comfort myself, and it means the world to me that someone could feel that way about the things I draw too. Truly, thank you so much, for everything. Although this is goodbye for now, I can't wait for when I'll return.

Much love, -Kami

TL;DR I'm going to be taking a mental health break for a couple of months. I'll be pausing billing on my Patreon so no one will be charged anything during the time that I'm gone.

[lemonhemlock]

I think a thing that bothers me the most is how fragmented TG (the fandom) is now. After season one, many of us had issues with character writing, but it still felt like we were largely on the same page. Now, some people can accept Aegon got bad writing but not Aemond, Alicent, or Helaena. They are all “good” or “bad”characters depending on how much they hurt Aegon this season. I’m so glad he got the time to be well rounded, and that TGC delivered on all his scenes, but I think people forget Aegon has received some poor writing as well even this season. His whole outburst about Jaehaerys’s death is not about his son, but the impact on his legacy- I thought this very odd at the time, but realize it’s because they can’t have him mourn Jaehaerys for a long time either. Nobody on TG is allowed to focus on this dead child, least of all his mother! Aegon goes out drinking with his friends next episode 😭 seemingly unconcerned. But somehow only Alicent and Aemond are called out for this, when it is a clear problem that Daemon is more affected by this loss than the greens. It feels like such an uphill battle to even discuss the faction and family anymore.

This is such a good point!

I know I am so contrarian about this rn, but I have had some issues in connecting with Aegon's grief scenes over Jaehaerys this season. And it's such an opinion I DON'T want to have, bc I'm fully on the Aegon/TGC bandwagon and I do think TGC is a competent actor.

But it's something about the general clownery of the framing, how everything is gloomy and dark but at the same time no one gives that much of a shit over Jaehaerys? It's very weird to describe. I know Olivia also shows Alicent crying and swallowing sobs and trying to conceal her grief, but, if you think about it, Alicent is just Kind Of Like That in a lot of her scenes anyway. Big doe wet eyes, filled with regret and unspoken emotions etc so that her acting similarly after B&C kind of doesn't hit as much?

And, in that context, having Aegon rage over this event is rendered kind of.....hammy and, honestly, comical. I'm reminded of the scene of the small council where everyone is somber and quiet and he kind of looks like he's pretending to cry. In other moments it's fine but there are frames where I can't take it seriously and it registers in my brain like a parody.

I realise how I sound right now, like I'm not satisfied with the subdued performances, but I'm not satisfied with the expansive ones either. IDK. I have a huge problem with the framing and direction this season, I think it's a huge impediment in making me enjoy the supposedly emotional scenes.

All of this to say that I agree, Aegon has also received some bad writing this season, especially him ALSO being kind of over Jaehaerys the next episode. But people tend to overlook it, because when you draw the line, the writing for him is still so much better than what he got in S1.

And, yes, this is why I can't really join the choir in blaming Alicent and Aemond for how they act with him, because it's not a naturalistic and organic progression, it's shoehorned in with little buildup or motivation and not even drawn to its natural conclusion. For example, Aemond should have been toast the minute Aegon woke up, because Prince Regent or not, Aegon is still the King and has the power to remove Aemond if he fears him. He doesn't have to justify himself in front of anyone, just give the order to arrest his brother and name someone else as regent, then just go back to sleep.

[ozzgin]

Today, something wild and unexpected unfolded, and I can't help but share it! Growing up, I have been inundated with words that cut deep: "You look unpleasant to be around." "You seem super scary; if I didn’t know you from school, I would never approach you." “You have a lovely personality, but when you walk by, you look like you’re ready to attack—could you smile?” It’s as if the world has constantly painted me with the brush of an intimidating image, completely at odds with who I truly am.

I recognize that my appearance might give off a certain vibe, yet it baffles me! When I see someone who might seem unapproachable, I often think it’s simply a choice of aesthetic—like goths, rockers, or punks who wear their fierceness proudly. But me? I’m just a girl in the simplest of outfits: a plain T-shirt and jeans. I don't believe I have a frightening visage; in fact, I perceive my face as quite pleasant. Yet, I’ve been labeled with the dreaded "resting bitch face." This misunderstanding makes forging friendships a steep uphill battle.

So here I was, just trying to navigate the mundane task of grocery shopping, but fate had other plans. For nearly an hour, I felt the unsettling presence of some random guy following me, and it was so perplexing! I sensed that he was going to linger since, honestly, I take my sweet time shopping.

As time dragged on, a thought crossed my mind—maybe he just has a preference for big girls, considering their rarity in my small town. But every time I mustered the courage to approach him, he would abruptly retreat. Frustration bubbled inside me until I exploded, shouting at the top of my lungs, “Are you a chubby chaser, bitch boy?” My words echoed through the aisles, drawing the startled gazes of everyone at the checkouts.

To my astonishment, he bolted from the store like he’d seen a ghost. Maybe that moment encapsulates why my circle remains so small—why relationships seem just out of reach. I just wanted to share this wild experience from my day with you, Ozz!

Hah, I have a feeling we would’ve gotten along really well in real life!

In my second year of high school, I ended up sitting next to a transfer student out of sheer coincidence. She was a bigger girl, knew how to box, smoked like a chimney and had a terrible temper; most of my classmates were afraid to approach her. I was the shy, studious class president.

One day - she later told me the silence had become unbearably awkward - she asked me if I liked Naruto. That was it. From that moment we’ve been best friends. Went on multiple trips together, hung out every weekend, moved in together for the first year of college. We went our separate ways since, but every time we meet it’s like we just left off the day before.

I'm sure one day that special someone (whether romantic or platonic) will just show up out of nowhere, under the most ridiculous, coincidental circumstances. Think of yourself as a mysterious, difficult to unlock game character. Is it because you're unpleasant? Nah, it just means that only the special few can achieve that kind of prize. 😎

[avoidcrowdraws]

Might be too long of a comic so a list of your headcanons is fine too but you mentioned in the ds au that Chilchuck was a bit hesitant to take on Laios cause he doesn't really work with other races often, so maybe a peek as to what that first meeting/contract negotiation was like???

It is a little too long to draw all of it, but here's some doodles, and a ton of thoughts below the cut!

Warning again for kink and sexuality discussion

Dandan is the one to introduce them, they meet at a cafe, and from the start Chilchuck is exasperated because Dandan didn't tell him Laios is a tall-man. They have a brief row about it to the side while Laios waits (see Chilchuck's rant in the bottom image here)

Chilchuck isn't completely opposed to other races, but as in the Dungeon Meshi canon half-foots are looked down upon. I imagine he has to fight an uphill battle for respect among non-half-foots, and that's before even introducing himself as a Dom

Fortunately Laios doesn't question Chilchuck's Dom capabilities, which Chilchuck had been expecting, which puts Chilchuck more at ease with the situation. Laios does immediately overstep and start calling him 'sir' before they've agreed to anything, Chilchuck has mixed feelings about that, but he sees it as a trainable offense

Laios becomes more more confident when he starts talking about what he wants, kink is one of his special interests in this AU so he's pretty knowledgeable even if he's less experienced personally. Chilchuck becomes legitimately interested when Laios lists a bunch of their overlapping kink preferences, because Chilchuck's current sub roster is a little more softcore

This might make some people unhappy, but my headcanon is that Chilchuck doesn't participate sexually with his subs himself. He'll get them off if they want, but he doesn't enjoy sex in a D/s context. He separates his sexuality from his kink entirely, and also in fact he considers himself largely straight

But I just want to mark this last paragraph with huge 'FOR NOW' signage

Chilchuck has brought a trial contract along, that outlines a short but non-personalised agreement, one with strict limitations, and that expires quickly. If they like what they're doing (which they do) Chilchuck will help them write a longer one together, with more specifics

[amalgamateofficial]

A Quick(?) Update

Hey, everyone. I never know what to say, and then because of that, day after day passes in silence. I guess I just want to say that yes, I’m still working on chapter 21 of Amalgamate, and also that I’m sorry for the absolutely ridiculous amount of time that’s passed between chapters. I know I’ve been “absent” a lot online, too. Rarely commenting on fics, taking days to respond to DMs, hardly livestreaming…

I’m sure it’s a no-brainer that the kind of person who writes a story like Amalgamate isn’t exactly a “well” person. Those who follow me on social media for my cosplay and art content see such a small, curated snapshot of reality. The smile doesn’t exist until I hit record, and it ends when the video stops. So every day, my followers see videos of me at my “best,” but I film as much as possible on a single day because the next “good” day could be weeks away. Sometimes I worry that the next good day isn’t going to come at all.

The most frustrating thing about it is that I’m well aware of the cycle. Every year, starting in August, the darkness starts to creep in. By September, it takes hold. By the end of October, it’s inescapable. November passes, then December. Last year, December almost ended in the worst way possible, but as cheesy as it sounds, Amalgamate convinced me to turn it around. I thought, “What kind of example am I setting here? How can I let people down like this?” 

So this year, I tried to prepare for the inevitable… and failed. I thought if I could post chapter 21 before the end of August, I could just curl up alone and wait for 2024 to be over. But then everything went to hell and I missed my goal, and when the darkness started to creep in at the edges, I tried to make another goal, and then another, but every single time, I was dragged right back down.

Then a mini cycle started to form within the larger cycle. Every day that goes by in which I don’t post chapter 21, I think the chapter needs to be even better to make up for how long I’ve kept everyone waiting. Then the pressure overwhelms me, and the terrible thoughts creep in, and then the guilt sets in, and then I’m curled up in the corner again with nothing accomplished. DMs are left to fester. Fics I want to read collect dust. I drift away, and I let everyone else drift away, and I sit and stare and wish things could be different. 

I suppose it’s not all doom and gloom though. I tried really hard to work on myself this past month, and I was actually successful in a few ways. I tried to clean myself up, and in some ways, I did a lot better than expected. I’m hoping that means I can turn things around again. I want to finish chapter 21, catch up on all the fics I want to read, start drawing regularly, and be an active participant online instead of just tossing out content in a desperate attempt to keep up appearances.

But it’s such an uphill battle. I feel worse now than I did last year, so I’m trying really hard to cling to that self-awareness and prevent things from going the way they did in 2023. But I know that’s not realistic. Everything in life is worse than before, and I see no evidence that it will improve anytime soon. So that means it’s on me to simply power through it and do the best I can.

So, for the sake of my own sanity, chapter 21 will get finished as soon as possible. I don’t know how much longer I can survive with this awful feeling, and that feeling will go away once the next chapter’s posted. In the meantime, I’ll try not to miss the mark with all my other goals. No matter what, I’m going to finish my Halloween cosplay special for 2024. Last year, I had some funds to help me. This year I don’t because I dropped out of most of my conventions, made a lot less art, and overall just kinda gave up on everything. 

But it’s not too late. I’ll dive into as many dumpsters as I have to in order to make a Halloween cosplay that will hopefully be as good as Mangle. This year, I’m gonna be cosplaying Spamton NEO – which is probably cheating since I’m already a failed content creator past their prime who has no choice but to wear clown makeup and wave their arms at anyone who happens to scroll by.

I never know what to say, so I guess all I can really say is that I’m trying my absolute best. I know my best is often really disappointing, but it really is the best I can manage sometimes. Even when I’m distant, just know that it doesn’t mean I love you all less, or appreciate you all less, or feel any less gratitude. It just means I’m in the dark, and I’m trying to crawl my way back. Which is very tiring. And overwhelming. But I never stop trying. In part because you all mean so much to me. Last year would’ve ended differently if that wasn’t the case.

Anyway, I don’t know what else to say other than thank you all for your continued support. I’ll try to make it all up to you and then some. Maybe this year I can end things on a high note for once. I’ll certainly give it my best shot.

Uuuh… I guess if you do want to see me at my best, though, you can always follow me on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. That’s the best version of me in between Amalgamate chapters, and I recently shared a ton of Danganronpa cosplay videos because of Dragon Con. I have a Patreon now too, and even though it’s a ghost town, I’m still posting as much content there as possible. I’ll keep dancing until the stage lights are forcibly shut down. I think that's the best way to guarantee that I can turn this ship around.

[lillified]

hello….. I’m sure you’ve maybe probably been asked this but how did you come up with the designs you have now? I feel like they look like them while looking different. ALSO LOVE UR ART GAH!!!!!!!!

thank you very much!

well, it started out just that I wanted my own versions of the characters to work with because all of the “transformers art” I wanted to make was totally disconnected from continuity or canon—I believe I came up with my first iterations of the main decepticons when I was 17? and just sort of mashed together a bunch of my robot influences/inspirations. I’ve held onto those original designs for the most part because they’re iconic to a lot of people who followed me and because I like drawing some of them, but you can usually tell the age of a design by how many little details have changed over time, lol. some of those bots are a major ship of Theseus situation

design is fun, but I’m really not a character designer by trade (I almost was for a little while, but that’s a whole other story). honestly designing the mechs has always been a bit of an uphill battle and it’s only recently that I’ve started to feel more satisfied with my ability to draft them more spontaneously! I’m happy people like them regardless, I know they’re not the prettiest but I did dedicate a lot of time to them

I hope this answered your question! thanks again!

[genericpuff]

Hi! Maybe this is a difficult question with no answer, but as a fan of Rekindled who might want to start their own comic, what do you suggest to avoid burnout? Do you start wiht writting the script right away, you doodle a bit,..? Thanks for reading, I love how you draw big noses, makes me more comfy with mine!

no fr my dark secret is that i've been experiencing burnout with my main original project that I've spent the last decade working on for literally a year now. this isn't the first long hiatus i've taken, the longest one i've ever been on has lasted two years, and it's undoubtedly not the last i'll experience because the lump of salt and fat and tissue that is my brain often overworks itself into exhaustion like a big dummy

rekindled has been my reprieve from the burnout. it has been my vacation from years of working on the same project, meeting the same deadlines, drawing the same characters, over and over and over again since before i was in college.

if there's anything working on rekindled has made clear to me, it's that i'm still capable of drawing comics. the comic-making isn't the problem. it's just that when you work on the same project for years and trap yourself in an uphill battle, eventually your climbing gear is bound to break.

if there's another thing that rekindled has opened my eyes to, it's the insanity that i put myself through prior to rekindled that led to my burnout in the first place.

i get people telling me that they couldn't imagine doing what i do, that even before i had my assistant helping me out, i was still able to put out 30-40 panel updates every week.

but before that, i was putting out 70-90 panel episodes of my original work. every week. full color. full spread action scenes. no assistant. very little financial gain aside from a couple patrons on patreon and one dedicated viewer on twitch, which i was also streaming on 2-3 times a week.

and now that i've been working on rekindled and even finding myself often crunched for time with that, i have zero clue, no idea, a complete lack of comprehension of how i pulled off 70-90 panels a week for months on end. there's a reason it resulted in burnout and i know that now. this comparison is not for the sake of a flex - this comparison is to make it clear that much of what i do isn't the norm and isn't exactly a healthy standard. case in point, i sneezed while sweeping up yesterday morning and it caused a muscle strain in my lower back/hips and i've been working out of my bed since, i'm in a lot of pain and it might mean i don't make any money this week if it's not better by the time i have to do my appointments at my day job on thursday. my need to create my personal passion projects is often at odds with my bad habits of not taking care of myself 。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。

when it comes to tackling burnout, your guess is as good as mine. really it just comes down to rest. when burnout - real, true burnout - hits, it's not just "man i'm bored of working on this", it's "i can't even think of looking at this thing let alone working on it", it's basically akin to depression and it's an awful thing that i wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy (even with Rachel, I don't want to psychoanalyze her mental health but it does seem like she's possibly been experiencing burnout with LO for years now and that really sucks for her if that's true). so the solution is just as complicated as the cause, it's not something that you can just rest from for a week and come back from, it takes real long-term healing.

when I found my way out of that 2 year hiatus, it was in spring of 2019 and I decided to just work on a random comic page that wasn't even in the comic I was working on. and then suddenly it was like a switch flicked back into the on position and i didn't even finish what i was working on, i just went back to my original project and i kept working on it until it was finally finished at the end of 2021. as suddenly and randomly as it had set in, it was gone. but i can't just do the same thing this time, it just doesn't work that way.

that said, through all this, i've learned that my need to create is not restricted to any one tangible thing, i'm not doomed or designed to stick with the same words, the same faces, the same ideas until the end of time. while i do try to keep up healthy routines for myself to ensure i'm looking out for my future self and their deadlines and their upload schedules, sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants. and in my case, the heart wanted to take a break from the self-reflective psychological analysis dark fantasy weebo stuff and just draw some pink and blue characters a little less ugly. the self-reflective weebo shit will still be there when i'm done with the pink and blue stuff, and i'll surely have loads of new things to unpack through it once i return.

there are still times when i'm working on rekindled and i'm feeling the creeping hand of my routine destruction digging its claws into my back. the reality is that 30-40 panels is still a lot for someone like myself who's doing this entirely for free, but my definition of normal for a while was so insanely inhumane that even what's still considered a lot by most people's standards feels sane and normal to me after what i put myself through.

i've learned to be more gentle with myself, and to loosen my own expectations of what i'm capable of to ensure i don't do anything like that to myself, by myself, again. i give myself room to create without expectations or the pressure of eyes watching when i can, and i remind myself that even if burnout rears its head again, and again, and again, the will to create is not gone. it's just tired, and resting, and growing, and healing as i am.

anyways that turned into a self-reflective essay post, to answer your question about making stuff ahead of time, i find that's more helpful with just like, planning out a structured story (so you don't write yourself into a corner) but whether or not it helps with burnout kind of depends. because it can just as also easily be the cause of the problem because constantly seeing the stuff you wanna be drawing so far away can be just as much of a morale killer as a motivator. some of the stuff i'm super psyched to write and draw with time gate is years away and that timeline grows longer the more the burnout goes on which makes the struggle feel even more overwhelming and pointless and defeating. so plan ahead, but keep it all within your means if you can. i find what works for me is planning out just general beat-to-beat plot structures (to ensure i at least have a plot skeleton going on so i know where i'm going) then i leave the finer details to when the actual episode i've planned gets closer to fruition and i can get myself in the headspace to write it fully.

also remember that just because you're really excited and motivated to work on your comic doesn't mean you should work yourself into exhaustion - it's a good thing if you're going through the mundane of your daily routine and the whole time you're hyped af to work on your hobby/personal project/etc. because that's what will keep you moving forward, so don't spend all that hype in one place by working and working and working until you're exhausted, because that hype is REALLY hard to get back after you've spent it all.

long post over! hope that helps! best of luck in your projects! ( ´ ��� `)ノ～ ♡

[goddessofroyalty]

Hi, I know you're getting back into your brainrot zaun family so I wanted to participate with an ask: the young parents silco/vander got an artist to do a portrait of them with their first baby. and then a timeskip at viktor's graduation with the whole family but this time it's a professional photo shoot.

Yes! Help the brainrot set in! We might even get it to produce some fic again

It really is one of my favourite aspects of the verse - how you can contrast what their life is like when Viktor is first born with what they're life is like when he's an adult (and especially post-Hextech).

They likely didn't commission the first one. And if they did it likely wasn't paid for with money but rather a barter. Done by someone they knew and probably another of the early members of their planned rebellion who happened to have an artistic-bent. The paper torn around the edges and was brown from the smog of the Zaun underbelly even before the first lines of the sketch were laid down. Done in watercolour (because that's the kind of paints that's easy to carry around and quickly used) with limited colours. But it still captures their likeness well and is probably foreshadowing of where Silco wants to position his family in society.

Silco had probably been planning on getting a proper professional photo portrait done for a while. He's the Zaun Representative now and while he does hold himself out as Different to Piltover's aristocrats he also wants to hold himself (and his family) as having the power and wealth they now have and a professional portrait does just that. It's just trying to wrangle his mate and children (apart from Viktor who while doesn't have as bold of a fashion sense as Silco does prefer to dress well and neatly) into any kind of formal of 'fancy' clothing is an uphill battle and akin to pulling teeth. But Viktor is graduating so they're all going to be wearing the nicer clothes anyway so they can get it over with at the same time and he only has to have the clothing fight once.

It's still probably chaos getting it but by the end of the experience they do receive a nice photo of the family that reflects the influence and affluence they now have. Silco gets two copies - one of his office in Zaun and one for his office at Piltover. He still has the old watercolour one in his draw in Piltover when he needs to remember where they started and why he's doing what he's doing (especially after especially frustrating Council meetings)

[majorasnightmare]

lorewise, dirges parents fled menzoberranzan to the surface to escape being assassinated (potentially for their relationship, undecided). both their scars are from the escape attempt.

they eventually end up settling in baldurs gate (two bedroom cottage. relative squalor. poor part of the city). given baldurs gate having a track record of not being the greatest towards both refugees and drow, life post-underdark wasnt kind to them. id imagine that they always wanted kids but never had the time, as both of them had to rapidly adjust to a new culture and quickly build up the labor skills needed to survive without the support of a noble House and without any money or anything to sell, so those first couple of years mustve been ROUGH. i think that like, after they settle into a kind of rhythm with work and getting stable, they have a kind of aimless lull period where theyre wondering why theyre doing this, what theyre working towards, etc, thats resolved by finding dirge

in a lot of ways, dirges appearance is kind of like a dark miracle. hes a tiefling child, spattered with blood, wandering the alleyways in the middle of the night. no one besides specifically a poor drow couple is likely to both be in that area AND be willing to adopt a child. the circumstances lead them to draw their own conclusions (hes specifically a tiefling and theyre both experienced enough with racialized prejudice to Come To Some Conclusions regarding why a walking-aged tiefling toddler might be alone in the Bad Part of Town). dirge answers the question of what theyre going to do, or why, because now theres someone here who needs them. if it wasnt them, it definitely wouldve been one of the more unsavory elements in baldurs gate, but because theyre drow, with darkvision, who prefers the nighttime becuse of the light sensitivity, who happen to live in this area because they fled their home, theyre in the right place at the right time and find someone else who probably ALSO just lost everything they had known, and now is lost in a world theyve just recently figured out how to navigate

it goes in reverse too, because despite being a bhaalspawn, dirge LOOKS like a tiefling, and tieflings arent well understood, and frequently demonized besides. the 5e PHB makes mention that tieflings will occasionaly be beset by dark aggressive urges, but even if we understand that as just superstitious prejudice, it still goes a good ways for justifying the oddities dirge experiences as a bhaalspawn. and the only people really capable of meeting that middle ground of being understanding enough to handle dirges quirks with compassion while being just out of the loop enough to be put off by all the myriad ways hes Not A Tiefling, would be this specific couple of lolth sworn drow.

if hes drawn to violence, well thats probably a tiefling thing. and violence itself isnt bad, it just needs to be channeled. a lot of the techniques for child rearing in menzoberranzan are unironically helpful for dealing with a growing bhaalspawn with awakening violent impulses, and a lifetime of dodging poisons and assassins and being permanently on guard just happens to be well suited to fending off the advances of a clumsily run deathcult looking to elevate their newborn scion into a position of dark worship to usher in the end of days

if bhaal ever wanted dirge to do anything for the cult, the only real option was to have his first Dark Urge be to kill both of them before they had time to raise their guards and plan around the situation, because otherwise it wouldve been an uphill battle to get dirge away from them (and one bhaal wasnt likely to win)

[artemistorm]

For the ask game: Hyrule and fire.

Here you go, I ended up writing an actual oneshot XD.

******

“—And Hyrule, your job is to stay here undercover, and at my signal, take out the monsters guarding the cage,” Warriors said, handing out battle orders.

“Got it!” Hyrule nodded.

“Ad whatever you do, don’t use fire, got it? This place is a dry as a stalfos. One spark—from any of you—and you’ll trigger a raging brushfire that’ll race towards the town and destroy the very thing we’re trying to save.”

“Yes sir!” Hyrule stood up straighter and mock-saluted, which Warriors ignored and led the rest of the heroes along the outskirts of the monster camp to be positioned in various locations in preparation for their attack.

The monsters had been kidnapping villagers from at least three different local towns and villages and forcing them to mine ore in the canyon caves. The plan was to destroy the monster camp, free the kidnapped villagers, and then raid the caves and free the slaves from the mines.

It was all very simple really, Wild and Twilight would pick off the lizal archers on the watchtowers, Four and Wind would sneakily freeze as many monsters as possible with borrowed ice rods and take them out of commission without the main horde noticing, Then Time, Warriors, and the rest would charge, the elder two taking out the dynalfos boss and the younger heroes routing the lesser monsters. Then in the ensuing chaos, Hyrule’s job was to free the prisoners and lead them away from the battle and back toward the village.

Waiting his turn to act, Hyrule crouched behind a stack of weirdly eroded boulders just uphill and downwind of the camp, drawing food in the orange dust of the desert canyonland. Mmm, fish skewers. Peaches. Deep fried rice balls. Apple nutcake. So tasty. Hyrule was starving. It was late afternoon, but Warriors wanted to get the battle done before nightfall, so they only had snacks with a plan to delay dinner until after.

Hyrule heard a commotion in the camp—shouts and squawks of surprised monsters and the yelling of Links. Hyrule climbed up the rock formation and poked his head just over the top. In the middle of the camp surrounded by lizalfos were Four and Wind! A pair of aeralfos swooped down with Twilight and Wild in their claws and dropped them in the dirt next to Four and Wind. Oh no! They had been caught!

The dynalfos roared and a third aeralfos appeared, straining to fly and carry another iron cage which it dropped over the four captured heroes, nearly crushing Twilight’s arm in the process.

A yell came from the west and Time, Warriors, Legend, and Sky charged the camp, splitting into pairs in an attempt to get to the trapped heroes from either side, but with most of the monsters in the camp still on their feet and going after the four heroes, Hyrule was more than a little concerned they all might be captured—or worse.

What to do? What to do? What should he do? Hyrule was rather small and he wasn’t very mighty, though he did have some powerful spells in his repertoire, the most powerful ones were fire-based and he wasn’t supposed to use them here.

But then again, the original plan was to thin the crowd, then cause enough chaos that he could rescue the villagers. Certainly four mighty warriors tearing through the camp was chaotic, but Hyrule had the power to cause even more chaos, divert even more attention away the captured villagers and heroes. With any luck, he could free the heroes and turn the tide of the battle in their favor.

It was time for… Maximum Chaos.

First things first, Hyrule snuck around to the cage of villagers and jumped out, startling the lone lizal guard and quickly dispatched it into a puff of smoke. He picked up the key and tossed it to the villagres reaching their hands out of the cage.

“Free yourselves and flee away from the setting sun to return to your village!” He instructed and slipped away, as quiet and unseen as a mouse.

The monsters didn’t have buildings per se, but they had erected a number of tents and shelters made of wood and cloth and old hides. Very flammable tents and shelters, ehehe.

Hyrule snuck behind one and channeling fire into his blade, he swung and sent a flaming phantom sword straight through it, setting fire to the structure. Then Hyrule bolted and ran to the next tent, chopped off the grabby claws of an aeralfos that tried to snatch him up, and he quickly set fire to the second and larger tent. It burst into flames even quicker than the first one did and Hyrule darted away.

Monsters noticed the rising flames and panicked, diverting attention away from the rest of the Chain. They rushed the larger tent and attempted to put out the flames. The dynalfos bellowed but the lizalfos and aeralfos paid no heed and instead fixated on rescuing pots and crates of provisions from the blazing tent.

Hyrule snuck up behind a lizalfos and shoved it into the flames with his shield before leaping away and out of reach of the blade of another. He skirted the edges of the camp and observed the battle. Now that the monsters attention was split, they had a much better chance. Warriors and Time kept the dynalfos busy (how much health did that thing have??) while Sky and Legend pressed inward toward the caged heroes, destroying any monster in their path.

“Hyrule!” called Warriors. Hyrule froze for a moment and turned his way. Oh no, was Wars going to yell at him for using fire? (This was hardly the time, wasn’t it?)

“More fire!” Warriors gave him a quick thumbs up before catching the blade of the dynalfos in a parry. Hyrule grinned and returned the gesture even though Warriors was too busy to see it.

Hyrule made quick work of the last three tents, then finally joined in the fray. He watched as between Legend’s power glove and Sky’s hysterical strength, the two of them lifted one end of the cage and sent it tipping over and crashing into two distracted lizalfos and a random chuchu. And with that, all the heroes and the villagers were free! A quick glance away toward the village showed Hyrule that the villagers had indeed escaped and were sprinting away from the battle and out of sight amongst the boulders and sandstone.

“Hyrule! Watched out!” Wind shouted and Hyrule looked up just in time to see an aeralfos diving towards him, its clawed feet outstretched. Suddenly the aeralfos froze solid midair. Hyrule rolled out of the way as it smashed into the ground and shattered into chunks, that poofed away a moment later.

Legend trotted up to him and helped him to his feet.

“It’s your turn to use the ice rod,” he said holding out to Hyrule. “Freeze any monster that moves and keep the fires you started from spreading into the brush. Got that?”

“Yeah!” Hyrule exclaimed and eagerly grabbed the ice rod. He’d always wanted to wield one of Legend’s elemental rods!

“Go do what you do best, go wreak some havoc!” Legend pushed him into the monster camp.

“Whoohoo!” Hyrule cheered and jumped into action.

A few minutes later, the battle was over, and the fires put out, and the Chain regrouped in the middle of the now-empty camp.

“Well that didn’t go according to plan,” Warriors acknowledged. “It was messy and chaotic, but it got the job done. The monsters are defeated and the villagers freed and there aren’t any major injuries.”

“All thanks to this little gremlin!” Legend said and ruffled Hyrule’s hair.

“Even though you used fire when I specifically told you not to, your quick thinking saved the day and prevented this battle from turning disastrous,” Warriors said.

“And for that, you get the first of the spoils!” Wild called from the burned-out ruins of what had been the monster camp’s food storage. He tossed a roasted bird leg to Hyrule who had to jump to catch it.

“Mmm! Dinner! It’s about time!” Hyrule cheered and took a bite. “Tasty!”

“Alright, alright, we can all have something to eat, and then we’ll head out for the mines in fifteen minutes,” Warriors relented. “Go enjoy the spoils of victory.”

“Ehehehe, maximum chaos for the win!” Hyrule laughed.

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

I just randomly found ur blog and am now OBSESSED with the whole avian!mumbo concept

…….tell me everything there needs to be known abt it please I want to draw little bird boy (even tho my main way of doodlin mumbo is vampire but I WANT BIRD)

(apologies for the ramble I live laugh love moustache man)

(here's the previous avian!mumbo post for anyone curious)

It has taken me far too long to get the chance to respond to this ask and I have been so impatient because adjsaklfhaskghjd someone actually saw and enjoyed my unedited babbling about avian!mumbo :')

anyways I think I already said most of what I have coherent ideas on, and the rest is just nebulous vibes and happiness and fluff and hurt/comfort potential, but! I can share doodles and also reiterate/expand upon stuff I have already said

(putting it below a cut so I can make it soso long)

WING FLAPPIES!! I feel like this would definitely be something he'd appreciate about having wings, because I feel like it would be a more satisfying expression of emotion than like. stomping or bouncing or whatever. He would also totally struggle to control his avian body language, you can read his wings/ears/tail like a book, he's so unused to paying attention to and stifling his bird gestures. (Grian finds this beyond hilarious especially, because he can read Mumbo even better than everyone else being another avian)

His wings are red and black, though I haven't entirely decided if I'm gonna switch which goes where to make it match Grian's wings better. Since Grian is a Scarlet Macaw, Mumbo really ought to be too, but that would look just. so goofy. with his color scheme

AND SPEAKING OF LOOKING GOOFY- his wings look so silly for the first couple weeks. Until the feathers grow in properly, they're just kind of gradually more fluffy. raw chicken. wings. stuck to his back. because that's what baby parrots look like apparently! And then also pin feathers, before finally being pretty feathery bird wings

He also just accidentally passively collects the other members of Boatem's clothes. Grian does this too, but intentionally. Mumbo just does it without realizing and then gets confused about it because he doesn't understand the whole nesting thing, so someone else has to explain it to him

Oh and Mumbo tries to just go about his life without any changes or accommodations for his wings at first, because he doesn't want to ruin his clothes or generally have to change his routines. Grian and the others do not put up with this and persuade him to take proper care of the wings instead (<- this is a constant uphill battle for months)

On a more overarching note, Mumbo initially Does Not Like the wings, because they're just tiny and kind of ugly things that get in the way of his elytra and make him have to get all his shirts edited and they don't really do anything but cause him problems. Then once the wings start getting feathers and stuff and they have to start making preparations for learning to fly, it kind of becomes a bit of a bonding thing that brings Boatem together, with Mumbo starting to get used to them and accept them, and everyone else being able to help out with their care some (preening, stretches and exercises...).

Ultimately (probably sometime around HC 9), Mumbo ends up quite loving his wings in the long run. Once they're fully grown they're actually pretty impressive (since he's so tall they end up being a fair bit larger than Grian's, much to his annoyance) and Mumbo ends up putting a fair bit of effort into their upkeep and keeping them all nice looking (at least, when he's not too busy with other projects). He does still find a bunch of the other avian traits a little embarrassing (nesting, chirping, dietary restrictions, wings giving away his thoughts...) but he gets used to them.

[typingatlightspeed]

Hmmm..... What if pyro really wanted to take Engie on the best date he's ever had, and have dinner at the most Texas style restaurant with the biggest 72oz steak. And some extra fluff too because I'm a sucker for those two being bff's and lovers. Maybe it'll be a double date with two of their buddies that just happened to have the same idea?

TF2 Fanfic - Flesh and Blood

Filled with new clarity on his feelings about Engineer's body modifications, Pyro takes him out to dinner to talk about it and spoil him a little.

Ao3 Link! Part of Monstrous Intent!

Hope you don't mind I deviated a little, Dizzy!

---------

"So you see my problem here, Doc?" Engineer asked, gesturing to a drawing in a well-worn notebook that sat on his drafting table. "With arms and legs, I can observe 'n get good enough photos for easy replication o' detail, but with face and torso, I'm fightin' one hell of an uphill battle, 'n I'd rather not just rely on photography. It can only catch so much accurately, especially with the finer details, like depth of colour 'n subdermal stuff that shows through. And hair patterns."

Medic stroked his chin as he peered over Engineer's shoulder at his notes. It was one of many battered and rumpled spiral-bound affairs that contained his scrawling and theorizing on his life's passion project. "Perhaps degloving?"

"You think flayin' me's gonna be the best option?" Engineer asked earnestly, crossing his arms over his chest in thought.

"Nein, not simply flaying. It would need to be a degloving to preserve detail."

"The difference bein'?"

"Flaying is simply removing the skin from the body. Yes, often kept intact for preservation, but it usually does not bring with it the subcutaneous tissues, so the structure is not maintained. Degloving is usually from a shearing force, and removes the subcutaneous tissues still attached to the skin, which not only can help better preserve shape but also structure, which—I wager—will allow you to better map the details to your artificial reproduction. It will also protect against stretching or distending during the removal, which would be done with proper tools, rather than an actual shearing injury, of course," Medic explained, grinning excitedly. He wanted to go fetch his tools right away, even though they were mostly talking suppositions and theory for a much-later project. After all, Engineer had a lot to build before he started working on the exterior facade for a full-torso replacement.

Engineer nodded thoughtfully. "So how're we gonna work around respawn, is the next question? After all, you can take the skin off o' me, but it'll get picked up by respawn quick as the rest o' me, with nothin' to show for it save you havin' a fun afternoon."

Medic chuckled at that and walked over to the work bench, hopping up to sit on it and crossing his legs knee-over-knee. "We would need to keep you alive, then," he reasoned.

"I don't see myself gettin' much work done while I'm screamin' in agony 'n bleedin' all over the place what with havin' no skin." A little chuckle hefted out of Engineer at that, and he uncrossed his arms, leaning one elbow on the drafting table as he regarded his friend.

He loved these sorts of conversations. Medic was just as excited as he was to work on this project, as un-squeamish as a man could be, and made a great sounding board to bounce ideas back and forth. He'd never has gotten as far in his bodily conversions as he had without his friend's help, both by virtue of his surgical expertise in installing the new parts and in his way of figuring out a solution to damn near any problem, no matter how unlikely or outlandish. The word, 'impossible,' did not exist in Medic's vocabulary, and that fact alone made the man worth his weight in Australium.

Silence fell as both men thought, a few quiet 'hmm's filling the space. Finally, Medic perked up with a soft hoot of excitement. "I have an idea! The medigun regrows tissue easily, after all. All I would have to do is keep you alive, deglove you, and regrow the tissue, good as new!"

"That could work," Engineer hummed, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Medic hopped to his feet, talons clicking on the cement floor as he began to pace, one arm tucked behind his back, the other gesturing as he spoke. "I can medically induce a coma, then perform the degloving procedure while you are unconscious, so that your body will not go into shock from the pain! Then it would be a simple matter to focus the medigun beam on you, set it to high charge, and allow it to regrow your tissues, which would only take a few minutes at most. In fact, the whole procedure would be just a morning, really. We could do lunch afterward! Depending on how quickly you come out of the coma, of course." He tittered. "The removed skin and subcutaneous tissues would need to be kept in refrigeration or they would begin to rot within a day or so, but if kept cold, could last several days before they rot enough to discolour. I could store it in formaldehyde, but I would need quite a lot, and it may alter colouration and structure, which would make it useless for your study, then."

"Reproducin' it realistically would be an issue then, yeah. I'll just have to work fast, I s'pose," Engineer mused. "Worst comes to worse, we just do it again so I can get another fresh piece to work with."

"That is absolutely an option," Medic conceded. "Though I would assume the amount of labour this entails, plus the time sensitivity, means it would be best pursued during a furlough rather than trying to work around our combat schedule."

Frowning a bit at that, Engineer had to nod in agreement regardless. "Yeah. Shame to waste a vacation stayin' on base, but I guess that just means I gotta time it right. And make sure Pyro ain't got plans for us already once I do pull the trigger on settin' this up."

"Speaking of Pyro," Medic hummed, giving his wings a stretch, "how are things progressing with him?"

"With my prosthetics 'n all?"

"Ja."

"Well, ever since we figured out the magic of it, 'n the how of why the Australium's been the only material to make this cockamamie project actually work—somethin' that causes me no shortage o' consternation since it means I gotta admit I was just kinda chuckin' science at the wall to see what stuck—it's been a little better. He's still not too keen on me swappin' out healthy tissue, but he ain't all unsettled by the parts themselves anymore, now that he understands why they look the way they do to his magic sight."

"He needed to look even deeper."

"I could'a taken it at face value," Engineer countered with a shake of his head. "But I ain't gonna sit here 'n tell a man older than my species what reality is. That's way too philosophical for my reckonin' anyway."

Medic made a shooing motion with one gloved hand. "Bah, reality," he dismissed with a chuckle. "But I'm glad to hear things are getting better."

"Me too. And for once it wasn't my fault for bein' a stubborn horse's ass."

"I mean, you are one. It just wasn't the problem this time."

Engineer slugged Medic in the shoulder with his left hand, laughing all the same.

"I am surprised by one thing, however."

"What's that, Doc?"

"That you're able to recreate your own body with such detail, down to veins under skin and pigmentation variations. It's an incredible artistic achievement, Engie. Especially for a man without formal training."

"Oh, I got an art degree," Engineer countered, matter-of-factly.

"I thought all of your degrees were in hard sciences."

"All my PhDs are. I got a bachelor's in fine arts when I was workin' on post-grad for my bio master's."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Also got an associate's degree from a two-year vocational course in special effects makeup. Once I decided this was what I was dedicatin' my life to, I knew I needed more than just the metal. Prosthetics are one thing, but a full body conversion should be able to look however you want. And I've gotten enough positive feedback on all o' this," he gestured vaguely to himself, "from fellas over the years that I'm keen to keep it."

Medic laughed. "You never cease to surprise me, Engie."

"Someone's gotta keep you of all people on your toes. Well. Talons."

The door to the workshop opening drew both men's attention, and Engineer broke out in a broad grin upon seeing Pyro slip through the door in his chemsuit, mask in hand. "Well hey there, darlin'!"

"Hallo Pyro! We had just mentioned you! Were your ears burning?"

"My ears are always burning," Pyro chirped, giving Medic a grin as he trotted over to Engineer and wrapped his arms around him. "Hey there, baby bear."

"What's up, firefly?"

"Wanna go out for dinner tonight?"

"Ooh, getting asked on a date by the hottest man on base!" Medic teased, taking this as his cue to leave, clapping his friend on the shoulder before heading for the door. "Have fun! Make good decisions! Don't do anything I would do!" he called, giggling as he slipped out of the room to the sound of exasperated groans.

Shaking his head, Engineer pulled Pyro close, threading his arms around the djinni's waist. "What's the occasion?"

"Demo told me there's a really good steakhouse in town, and I wanted to treat you," Pyro replied, nosing in to press a kiss to Engineer's cheek. "So, can I pick you up around five?"

With a chuckle, Engineer gave him a squeeze. "Sure thing, just gotta go get all gussied up."

"Oh good, one of us should be dressed appropriately, at least."

*

"You sure that's gonna be alright?" Engineer asked as he watched Pyro unscrew the side filter of his mask and thread a straw through the gasket inside. The straw led down into a hurricane glass filled with a bright blue beverage, a pineapple skewered with a paper umbrella mounted on its side.

"Oh yeah, it's fine. To be honest I messed up the seal on this mask a while ago so I only wear it for aesthetic reasons, not to actually filter anything. Work masks stay in my locker."

"So this is your casual, day-to-day gasmask," Engineer reasoned, smiling against the rim of his pint of beer.

"Look, when you can't let ninety-eight percent of people know what you look like, you learn to accessorize for the occasion," Pyro teased, punctuating with a sip. "Oh man that's way stronger than I expected. Really good though."

"It's bright blue."

"Blue is objectively the best colour for a beverage to be. That's just science," Pyro reasoned, taking another sip.

"Knew I should'a done at least a bachelor's in culinary," Engineer chuckled.

A slim young man in a smart black uniform rounded on the booth they shared, pulling a notebook and pencil from his apron. "And have we decided on food yet, gentlemen?" he asked, eyes lingering on Pyro, unsure if he used the appropriate form of address. "...o-or if you need more time, I can swing back around in a little bit." He looked to Engineer, then nervously back to the person in a full chemsuit and gas mask sitting in the middle of a steakhouse, and decided that, indeed, the stout man in a stetson, yoked shirt, and nice jeans was the one he should be talking to.

"Sure, I'll have—"

"The thirty-two ounce prime ribeye—rare—with the garlic and herb butter, and the loaded baked potato," Pyro interrupted, looking pointedly to Engineer, who could tell from his body language that he knew exactly what he was doing.

With a chuckle, Engineer shook his head. "You heard the man. That's what I'll be havin'. And, uh, add a side salad on there, too. Ranch dressin'."

"Anything else?" the server asked, eyes darting between them in confusion.

"I'll take the twelve ounce tenderloin, medium rare. With the sweet potato mash, and a slice of cheesecake. Bring that out in a to-go container with the check, though, okay?"

"You want the ribeye here?"

"Yeah."

"Sure thing, sir," the server replied, spine stiff, deeply unsettled as Pyro's darkened lenses seemed to stare right through him. "I'll—I'll go get that order in for you," he stammered, peeling off to be as far from the table as possible.

"The wild thing is, this is still more relaxed than people would be around me outside the suit," Pyro mused, shaking his head. He plucked the straw from his mask and sat up. "And a side salad?!"

"Ribeye with butter's a lot o' fat 'n protein. Even more so prime grade, all that marblin'. I ain't gettin' any younger, darlin'. I'm gonna need the roughage; keep things movin'."

Pyro snorted a laugh, reeling back in his seat. "Gross! So does that mean I'm not topping tonight?"

"That's gonna be your risk-reward calculation to make," Engineer chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. "So what's the real reason for all o' this, anyway?"

"I can't take my Delly Sandwich out for dinner?"

"You absolutely can, but spoilin' me with the nicest cut on the menu feels like more'n just general appreciation. This some kind o' occasion? I ain't forgettin' an anniversary, am I?"

Pyro laid a hand atop Engineer's and tilted his head a little, indicating a smile. "No, nothing like that. I just—I wanna spoil you a little. As an apology."

"An apology?"

With a nod, Pyro squeezed his hand. "For making things hard with the whole... cyborg thing. My hangups shouldn't be your problem." A gentle frown settled on Engineer's face, and he set his beer down to hold Pyro's hand with both of his. "Py, you got a right to feel how you feel about about it."

"Yeah, but not to expect it to change something you've been working toward your whole life, and finally have the tools to accomplish. That isn't fair. And it isn't right. And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to choose between me and your life's work. I promise you: you don't, and you never will."

"Thanks, darlin'," Engineer said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Actually, Soldier said something that got me thinking."

"Oh lord..."

"No, seriously! It's... it's like you said. You're not getting any younger. You're in pain basically all the time."

Nodding, Engineer conceded, "Sure. Some days are better'n others, but..."

"And a lot of that can't really be fixed short of replacing things. And sure Medic can do a lot with his exotic animal parts, but what's sturdier than machinery? It can be maintenanced, and cared for, and parts swapped out when they get too worn down. It can last. Dell, you're already middle-aged. And someday, you'll be an old man. And someday, you won't be. But I never age." Engineer averted his eyes. He'd never been a fan of thinking about that fact.

"I'm used to outliving lovers. But I don't wanna be. I don't wanna keep doing it. I wanna be with you as long as you'll have me, but it's hard when I realize that in what's the blink of an eye for me, I'll be burying you. I can't handle the idea of a world without Dell Conagher in it, which says a lot, considering just how long I existed before Dell Conagher ever did." Pyro dipped his head and took hold of both of Engineer's hands with both of his, lifting them to the front filter of his mask as a kiss. "That's how important you are."

"Pyro..."

"If replacing meat and bone with plastic and metal means you won't be in so much pain, and maybe I won't have to stand at your grave..." Pyro's voice choked out, his shoulders slouching, and Engineer knew tears were rolling down his burning cheeks.

"Oh, Firefly," Engineer sighed, rising from his seat to circle the table and scoot in beside Pyro on his booth seat. He wrapped his arms around him, and Pyro leaned into him and tried to hold back sobs.

He fought down his own anxiety about such a display in a public place, casting a glare at anyone who would dare look their way. Pyro needed him, and that was more important than anything.

He rubbed soothing circles on the djinni's back, holding him close. "I dunno if I can wring forever outta this project. But I can get more time. And with that time, I can figure out how to get even more time after that." He nudged a hand under Pyro's chin and tilted his face up, looking into darkened lenses with a warm smile. "So if you're tellin' me you wanna be with me the rest o' your life, I'm gonna do my damnedest to make that happen."

Pyro squeezed him tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck, and let out a weepy little sigh. "Okay," he replied, his voice wobbly. "Sorry for crying; I didn't mean—"

"It's alright, darlin'. Took a lot to come out with all o' that. I'm just sorry we're in a restaurant so I can't hold you proper."

A dreamy little hum cut through Pyro's quiet sobs. "Later, then."

"If you're still cryin' later that's a whole problem," Engineer chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to the crown of Pyro's mask. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Pyro sighed, nodding against him.

"Alright." With one last squeeze, Engineer let go let Pyro scoot over to give him room. "Want me to stay here next to you?"

"Won't it look silly, both of us on the same side of the table with nobody across from us?"

"Don't it look silly, a feller in a cowboy hat havin' dinner with a feller in a gas mask?"

"Okay, fair."

"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'. I'll stick by your side, and if you need to lean on me, that's what I'm here for."

"Thanks." Pyro's smile was audible in his voice, and he nudged Engineer's shoulder with his own.

"You wanna hear a story, Py?"

"Sure," Pyro said, gathering his emotions back up and taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He half-turned, leaning against the side wall of their booth so that he could face Engineer as he spoke.

"When I was a little boy, I was fascinated with my grandaddy's Gunslinger. He built it outta necessity; lost his arm in some contraption, so he slapped that baby together outta steel 'n Australium, hooked it into his nervous system with a damn pair of pliers and a whole mess o' laudanum to calm hisself down. Worked better'n the arm he lost, 'cept he was always in pain from it. Never said a word about it; that's how he was, but I could see. The way he'd wince if he hit the cuff that capped his stump, or how he took to wearin' a leather glove over it when he was workin' in the sun, since it'd heat up real nasty. No insulation in the build, y'see. Kinda like how I did with my Gunslinger, 'cept I used rubber to insulate for when I'm workin' with electricty."

Pyro nodded, listening intently, sniffling a little and wishing he could wipe his eyes. Stupid mask.

"And that's the thing. I saw how that thing helped him, and how it hurt him, and I wanted better for him. I wanted to make somethin' better. Then the accident happened."

"Accident?"

"When I was ten, the horse I was ridin' got spooked by somethin'. Bucked me off. I landed bad 'n messed my back up somethin' awful. Herniated disks, messed up a few vertebrae. Ended up needin' surgery. Took a lot 'o physical therapy to get me back on my feet, 'n even more to get me back to fightin' trim. Could'a killed me, if I'm honest. I was lucky to be alive, but I sure didn't feel lucky."

"So your back's been bad ever since you were a kid?"

"Essentially," Engineer admitted with a half-shrug. "All the liftin' I do ain't that kind to it, though. I learned real young how to lift my with knees, but that wasn't to kind to them neither. By my twenties I knew I was cruisin' for a knee replacement by my fifties. Was basically a matter o' time, 'n put a hell of a ticking clock over my ability to take mercenary jobs, 'n work on the kind o' machines I really love. It was after my first PhD that I decided I was gonna start workin' on prosthetics as a personal project on top o' my schoolin' 'n refinin' my granddaddy's sentries, 'n my daddy's dispensers. Both of 'em did a pretty number on Australian teleporters with their iterations, 'n I did the same, too."

"You based your machines on your dad and granddad's blueprints?"

"Standin' on the shoulders o' giants," Engineer hummed. "Conagher tradition. Every generation has his breakthrough, but he also inherits a legacy o' the work that came before, to get him started out 'n learnin' to iterate on a design proper. Granddaddy Radigan invented the Gunslinger, so I invented fully artificial legs 'n arms that can adjust to temperature 'n serve as the base for upgrades, 'n housin' for 'em that looks like flesh 'n blood if the wearer wants it to. I invented a spine I can replace this ol' busted thing with 'n won't leave me paralyzed. Assumin' the Doc installs it right." He chuckled. "And eventually, I'll invent a total body conversion."

Pyro nodded, understanding more than he thought he ever had. It wasn't just curiosity, it wasn't just drive, and even though he invoked it, it wasn't just legacy either. Engineer was in chronic pain, so like anything else, he decided to solve that problem. That had been the start of it all.

There was something just so right about that.

"You're always in pain," Pyro murmured.

"And I can fix it," Engineer said, reaching across the table to retrieve his beer.

Pyro smiled behind his mask, wonder in his eyes. "I know I'm not a scientist, or a wizard, or even a particularly good artist or anything, but if there's anything I can do to help with your... transition, I will."

Engineer smiled softly at that. "Thanks, firefly. I could use the perspective of someone who knows my body real well," he chuckled. "And if you got any suggestions for upgrades."

Pyro tilted his head to the side in thought as Engineer raised his glass to his lips with his free hand, taking a sip. "...vibration."

Engineer choked, snuffling as he fought to keep beer out of his nose and gulped it down with great effort. "Pyro!"

[danandphilchronology]

Phil the Viking + Tim’s Adventure +  Worst Day Ever. + The Rabit iz comin to get you

Video #1

Video #2

Video #3

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Hello besties! Another day of AmazingPhil circa 2008! We have quite a few I wanted to cover in a single sitting because I was inspired by their very in-depth and meticulous Met Gala review that you can see on Phil’s Instagram. Just looking at the titles, I can tell we are going to be in for an adventure!

Phil the Viking

I’m already nervous for what this could be. This past weekend I did a ton of independent research into Dip and Pip lore and I watched a video that was just Phil barking at the camera and let me tell y’all, that shit has scarred me. 

Wayback Machine (16 February 2008)

Muhammad Ali… Recipe for Life by loutyr

News In Color - College Edition by NewsInColor

Black History Month Presents- BLA… by agordon101

Ok, originally I was nervous because in these early youtube days, Phil doesn’t really have any rhyme or reason to his titling UNLESS he has made some kind of music lipsyncing video. I was pleasantly surprised to find that this was a vlog! Phil and some of his friend stared ina move called Faintheart which billed itself as “the first user generated movie”. Over 1400 myspace users auditioned for the movie and 11 non-professional actors were selected including our own Phil Lester who played Tim. I will link the imdb page here if you are interested in the plot of the film, but just to be warned, it sounds like it was as… good… and you think it is. 

It was presented at a film festival, received mixed reviews, and actually was nominated for a couple of awards. It’s crazy to think that Phil could have continued a career in actor. What a life that would have been. 

Total Watch Time 15m 30s

Tim’s Adventure

Wayback Machine (11 June 2008)

David Byrne: Playing the Building (BBTV) by boingboingtv

THE COMPLIMENTS COLLAB by PickThisCar

TAG! INSTANT KARMA! PASS THIS VID 4 HUMANITY!!! By KingHuman

Ok yall, the last video spoiled me because Phil is back in business as the king (I assume) of the weird side of youtube. It is very interesting to think that this era of Phil is the one Dan was like, “Yeah, we need to be friends”. 

Tim is a little guy who lives in Faceland (Phil’s actual face). The story of Tim is sad and short. He wished to find live and had to fight many uphill battles to be with his beloved, just for them both to be consumed by a dragon. This is not animated. This is nearly a minute of drawings on Phil’s face that I assume took at least a couple hours. This was, honestly, peak creativity. Bonus points for Phil for washing his face, I guess. 

Total Watch Time 16m 27s

Worst Day Ever.

Wayback Machine (25 June 2008)

the Trons - self playing robot band by pieplateindustries

PiKAPiKA THE MOVIE ~ GO! GO! PiKAPiKA!!~ by pikata08

Sing A Long by checkyourself

This was a song for men about how to check yourself for testicular cancer. I did a bit of research on that one. (10/10 for prioritizing health)

We love a storytime youtuber! Apparently Phil has a fear of rollercoasters? Not really, but he dreamed that he had killed an entire cart of passengers on a rollecoaster because he forgot to engage the harnesses. He was actually killed in his dream by a group of theme park mascots. While wearing a full suit and tie, he just talks us through an awful day from beginning to end. The ending, however, is true 2008 Phil and I 100% recommend you watch it. 

Total Watch Time 19m 11s

The Rabit iz comin to get you

I promise that I did not decide to spell it like that. That title does not contain any mispellings by me, I promise. That is all our Philly’s doing. 

Wayback Machine (7 July 2008)

The Blood Arm featuring Anais “Do I Have Your Attention” by laundryLA

Dynamic Architecture by dynamicarchitecture

The Cheese Incident by hiddentracktv2

CHILDHOOD STORYTIME!! Yay! Did you know baby Phil wanted to be a vet because he liked animals and wanted to help them. I could cry. He has always just been a little bean. He also wrote a murder story though, so I guess the sweet and terrifying evens out. The title comes from a story her wrote with the same name. The rabbit killed everyone and he could only be defeated by an entire army. I feel like I understand Phil less than I did before actually? Like what is going on? Why didn’t he become a horror author or horror movie director? Why didn’t his parents put him in therapy? Maybe they did. Imagine being Phil’s primary teacher and you notice that he as a tendency to write stories about murder and death… I would have nightmares.

Total Watch Time 21m 41s

[weiying-lanzhan-fics]

Thicker Than Water by athena_crikey

Enjoyed the world building in this story. Loved the complexities of LZ and WY’s relationship. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Quotes:

Wei Ying is looking around the interior, clean from last weekend’s vacuum. “Nice car. I kind of pictured you driving a Porsche, or an Audi maybe. You know. Something sleek and sexy.”

Lan Zhan glances at him, and he grins. “I don’t know. You just give off that mysterious hot dude aura. Like James Bond, but you know. Hopefully less misogynistic.”

His car is, in fact, a Honda Fit. He had been considering a Leaf, but his battle to get his Strata to install charging stations in his building has been an uphill one.

“This has good mileage and a user-friendly eco-mode,” he says, fairly sure Wei Ying is not being serious but unable to reply in kind.

“Wow Lan Zhan, you really sell it. I’ll put Honda on my list for future me’s vehicle choices.”

————

Lan Zhan draws in a breath, slow, so deep his chest aches with it. He can feel his heart pressed tight within him, the feeling uncomfortable, distressing. But he can’t just keep sitting here and letting Wei Ying carry the conversation. The conversation he initiated, and now finds himself unable even to lead.

“You and I are very different,” he says, slowly. For once, Wei Ying doesn’t interject. “You are very different from anyone else in my life. I have been. Dazzled. By you. I thought that perhaps, despite our differences, despite my doubts, we could be… something.”

“And now you don’t?” asks Wei Ying, quietly. Lan Zhan turns to look at him. He’s sitting stiffly, his eyes wide, worried. For the first time he looks vulnerable – more than he did luring out a yao, more than he did walking into a house with a violent spectre.

“How could we, when I cannot even find the words to tell you what I want?”

Wei Ying leans forward, reaches out and hooks his long fingers over Lan Zhan’s. “I thought that was a pretty clear message just now. You’re right – we are different. Maybe too different – I don’t know. But I want to find out. I want – I want the way you look at me, like I’m the only person you’re thinking of.”

Lan Zhan swallows dryly, his throat tight. With fear, with desperation, but also for the first time with an ounce of hope. “You are. Since we first met, I have not been able to stop thinking about you. Each time I see you, it just makes me want to see you again.”

M, 68k

Summary:

The Lans were one of the founding families of the Vancouver Guild; part of their legacy is to maintain their place in it for the benefit of all. Cultivation is important, essential, serious.

In the distance, something squeaks.

A disaster, is Lan Zhan’s first impression as the bike squeals to a halt on the far side of Song Lan’s car. The man riding it – and he’s tall, and lanky, and sure-footed – hops off and locks it to the car’s back door. The back door of a police vehicle. He pulls his helmet off to reveal long, sweat-soaked hair with a shaggy undercut, bright grey eyes, and a smile that launches like an arrow straight through Lan Zhan’s chest.

No, he thinks, watching this trainwreck of a man shimmy between the narrow space dividing Song Lan’s back bumper and the next car’s hood like he’s doing some kind of dance step. Absolutely not.