#but the design still needs some work I think

[morallyinept]

Home - A Joel Miller One Shot

Summary: Joel returns home to you.

Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader, except that reader has hair and is prone to freckling in the sun. These are very small details briefly mentioned.)

Word Count: 1.6k

Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's fluff. You're safe.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Nothing too heavy. Some angst and longing.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: I've had some terrible writer's block recently and the new season 2 Joel reveal has inspired me this evening. Thanks, Joel! 🥰

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The swing hangs at one end of the rickety porch, a timeless piece that has seen many seasons and heard many secrets in your time here in the Jackson commune.

Crafted from sturdy oak, it’s varnished and smooth in places when you run your fingers over the armrests that curve gracefully at each end.

You remember his own fingers gliding over the wood as he sanded it, splintered and calloused, and yet strangely soft in the middle of his large palms when you’d rubbed cooling aloe salve into them after, whilst he'd planted a line of tantalising kisses on your shoulder and remarked on how freckled you’d gotten in the sun that afternoon.

You don't remember much else after that as his kisses had engulfed you wholly.

The thoughts cause splinters in your stomach lining and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing them not to creep into the jagged fissures of your hollowed bones. But it’s futile. The memories of him are everywhere you look.

Your gaze drifts to the haphazard wooden flower boxes, overflowing with vibrant blooms and herbs.

It was Joel who had planted them, his hands deftly tending to each delicate stem, leaf and petal as if they were his own children.

You can picture him kneeling beside the boxes, soil dusted over his denim clad thighs, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully watered each plant.

You think about the bed you climb into each night, noting the void in the space beside you where Joel's warmth and his presence once lingered. You can almost see the imprint of his broad body on the mattress, the indentation where he'd slept night after night with you curled into his body, leg resting over his hip.

You can still feel the heat from him as you'd wake in the night to find him practically draped over you.

The seat on the swing is wide and deep, designed for comfort and for sharing, for cuddling together on warm, balmy nights under the fraying, knitted blanket with wonky stitch lines.

You still hold it up to your nose, inhaling the last ebbs of his scent that haven’t been blown out the fibres fully by the breeze. But it’s fading fast and you’re worried that one day it’ll be gone forever, just like he is.

Strung along the railing and woven through the latticework, tiny lights glimmer around you like a thousand stars brought down to earth on glittery strings. Each delicate bulb emits a soft, warm glow, creating a cascade of golden light that flickers gently with the whispers of the night.

The cushions you’re sitting against, plump and inviting, have seen their share of tears. You’ve clung to them during sleepless nights, seeking the comfort they no longer fully provide. The smaller pillows, in warm tones of orange and gold, have been hugged so close to your chest as if they can somehow bridge the chasm of his absence.

The muted hues on the porch that echo the colours of the forest surrounding your home beyond the fences, mirror your fading hope, each day a little dimmer than the last.

You tell yourself that perhaps tonight will be the night, that he’ll emerge from the shadows like an ethereal spectre back to you, but you know, somewhere in your heart that’s been broken beyond full repair, that it’s wishful thinking. A dream with its shiny ribboned tether drifting so close, yet so far out of your reach.

You’ve often found yourself on the empty porch, night upon night, your heart heavy with the belief that he’ll return. Waiting... always waiting.

They've stopped coming now, stopped checking in on you. Stopped bringing baked goods, like they do when someone passes away. Leaving you to wilt and exist in your own bubble of enduring sadness and melancholy.

They said you should move on, like it's an easy thing to do. And a small part of you thinks that perhaps you should at least try. It's been too long.

You’d heard the rumours, whispers in the commune, of the men and women who never make it back, of the dangers that swallow them whole out there - even the strongest aren’t immune.

Joel, like many in the commune, had volunteered for supply runs, journeys that had become increasingly dangerous. The surrounding areas fraught with peril - raiders, infected, treacherous terrain, and unpredictable weather. Every time someone leaves for a run, there’s no guarantee they'll return.

You knew this. You knew the risk. So did Joel. The supply runs are a lifeline for the community, but they come with a heavy cost. Each departure is shadowed by uncertainty, each return a fleeting relief.

When Joel didn’t come back from his last run, the fear that had always lingered at the edge of your mind about him embarking on them, consumed you whole.

You knew the risks he faced, had heard the stories of those who never made it back from his own weary lips of close calls, and had seen the grief in the eyes of others in the commune who had lost their loved ones.

You were one of them now.

The days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the silence grew louder. Every creak of the porch, every rustle of leaves heightened your anxiety, making your heart race with the hope that it might be him, only to be crushed by the realisation that it wasn’t.

It never was.

Your nights were spent waiting on the porch swing that Joel built for you both to spend balmy nights in the summer drinking tangy lemonade and being cuddled up in his strong arms.

And he isn’t here doing that with you anymore and you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to move on, or accept it.

You try to hold onto the minute flicker of hope that remains, but it’s fading fast, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of loss and the fear of what the future might hold without him.

Each day without word, each night without his voice, has chipped away at your hope leaving you empty and lost.

Tonight is no different; and when you find yourself dozing into the late night on the swing in a routine you can't seem to break, the cool breeze stirring you awake, you resolve to go to bed and spend another night alone reaching out longingly to his side of the mattress, wondering where he is.

You stand to go inside, shaking off the blanket, and a flicker of movement catches your eye through the shadows and startles you.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat when you hear your name called softly.

You visibly pinch yourself, the sharp pain registering that you’re not dreaming.

There he is, standing where he used to stand, the same but different. His silhouette is a familiar yet foreign sight, the longer hair and the weary lines on his face telling stories of the time and trials he’s endured out there.

Your heart pounds as a flood of emotions surge through you - disbelief, hope, anger, relief.

Your hands are trembling. Your heart is hammering so loudly now that you can't hear yourself think or even call out his name on a broken chord. Your legs barely support your weight, and for a moment you feel time stop completely, it's drag heavy agaisnt your skin.

Joel stands at the edge of the porch, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle light on his familiar face. His hair, longer and wilder than when he left, brushes against the top of his shoulders in swept back curls, seeming more grey and dishevelled.

The breeze seems to whisper through it as if sharing foreboding secrets from his time away. He looks different, weathered and sunken in his stature. And you're harshly reminded that it’s been over a year since he’d walked away from this home, from you.

"You're back," you whisper, your voice breaking as tears stream down your cheeks.

He steps tentatively up on the porch, a low groaning creak rumbles out from under his boot.

You resolve crumbles, and you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

He holds you tightly, his own tears mingling with yours.

The pain of the past year, the nights you cried yourself to sleep, the days filled with endless worry, all dissolve in the warmth of his tight embrace, and your heartbeats meld together as one under the gloaming lights around you.

Your fingers grip into the rough material of his jacket, and you inhale deep. He smells earthy, like the fragrance of fresh rain on dry earth. It carries with it the essence of the forest, of pine needles and damp soil, mingling with the crispness of skeletal autumn leaves.

"I thought you were dead," you sob into his shoulder, the words releasing a year's worth of grief and longing.

"I know," he murmurs, his voice choked with guilt. "I never stopped tryin’ to get back to ya."

His words carry the warmth of the Southern sun, the gentle drawl of his accent wrapping around the ruggedness of his tincture giving it a raw, unfiltered quality. It’s a voice that speaks of home and belonging, of wide-open spaces and endless horizons. Of survival and repentance.

It’s a reminder that he’s real, that he’s here, standing before you, alive and well. And yet strangely frail; wounded deeply by the experience of the outside world.

And as you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his roughened cheek peppered with his greying beard, you know in that moment that Joel is truly home.

“What happened to you, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened out there?” You fire off clumsily, your voice shaky and breathless until Joel simply looks at you with those molten, sad brown eyes and you finally breathe.

"I'm okay, I ain’t hurt," he replies softly, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes never leave yours.

“I thought I'd lost you,” your voice is nothing more than a croaked whimper. “You’re really here?” You question dreamily, sinking back into his arms.

"M'here."

As you stand together on the porch, bathed in the gentle glow of the fairy lights, you finally feel a sense of peace wash over you.

And almost as if he can sense your bewilderment, your fear and frustration - your relief - Joel runs his hand through your hair, caressing your skull and cradles you closer into his chest. Alleviating your fears and confirming the unwavering truth presented to you, that he is in fact here. He’s home.

"M’home, darlin’."

Joel Miller has come back home to you.

Thank so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little story. If you did, I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy it too. Thankies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #jett's writing

[venomoustripmine]

OOC LORE POST

Right, since im antsy and love sharing lore about aus, and this is the first au i'm sharing with the world ever if i'm being honest, here's a bit more about the au and backstory. ill split this up in three tiers, Differences from canon, subspace's backstory, and a bit of relations (aka what subspace thinks of others/what has happened between the two characters in the au)

read after the cut off!

first up the differences from canon!

Instead of being born from the spawn, demons are hatched from eggs! and are often really fluffy and small as children

eggs are either wild born or magic born, wild born eggs just magically appear in the wild, often hatch out in the wild and live as orphans until adopted while magic born are "biological". two(or more) demons use some energy from themselves to produce an egg with dna from each demon that helps

wild born eggs are often wildly different from their parents while magic born aren't wild born demons are independent while magic born have a "duckling" stage

anyone can produce a magic born egg as long as they have help, the person who's designated the "mom" is often tired once a egg is made and needs to be cared for

often both wild born and magic born can be a subspecies(cow, crow, shark, deer, rattlesnake you get it.), mutations can evolve, even twins hatching from the same egg can happen, its all rare, but it's possible

Deities are slightly radioactive, causing more mutations in their children, not really important but i am talking about the au

Now we're up to subspace's backstory! which i'll just type out like a story, but disjointedly

Subspace was born from a magic born egg to an unnamed father and unnamed mother, her father going to get the milk soon before Subspace hatched which made her mother very bitter towards men. Once Subspace hatched, she was found to be "male" (the species is agender but have more masculine/feminine looks in body shape depending "gender") which only made her mother angry, causing her to be rather neglectful and harsh to Subspace most of her childhood. No matter what Subspace did to prove herself, she made things, she tried her best...she really did. But no matter what her mother said she'd "always be like every other man" which crushed Subspace's spirit a lot. One time her mother said she should have "just abandoned Subspace" because she would of been "less of a hassle that way", she wasn't allowed to befriend other kids, wasn't allowed to go outside forced to stay home with her mother. She made her first Biograft at the age of 4 almost going on 5, blackrock having kept their eyes on her and her inventions, the first Biograft was poorly made, but it worked for a bit! She carried it around and talked to it like a friend, though it's battery eventually fried and it wouldn't turn back on, and still won't. When Subspace turned 5 Blackrock higher ups talked to her mother, offering a wonderful life if she let Subspace work for them, she never had a connection to Subspace so she motioned for them to take her, which they did. Subspace started working at blackrock at 5, she looked up to Zuka as a father figure early on she would follow him around and cheer him on in training, so when Zuka left she was heart broken, the person she trusted was gone, the person guarding her from most of the hard work left. Around age 15 Medkit started working, Blackrock often using Subspace as a test subject for Medkit's healing powers, telling Subspace "we don't really care HOW you get hurt, just get hurt so we can see how Medkit's healing works". Subspace later "bonds" with Hyperlaser, despite the few year age gap, seeing him as a dad instead despite him not really liking her. The fight breaks out, Medkit gets angry and throws the chemicals at Subspace's face causing her loss of eye and major scarring, and in turn she retaliates, attacking and taking Medkits eye. Medkit runs away and Subspace is fully isolated and alone again, she's used to that though, who needs demon interaction when you have robotics anyway?...

Relationship time, get ready cause it's not good.

Medkit- While medkit messed up subspace's life, rendering her scarred, half blind, and unlovable according to her, she thinks she deserves it, she forgives medkit, hell, she even sort of likes medkit still despite being fearful of him

Sword- first interaction sword tried to stab her because of the story medkit spun, she understands he doesn't realize the real story and holds no ill will towards sword.

Scythe- Scythe on several occasions have grabbed subspace's horns, saying how pretty the horns would look on her wall going into detail on how she'd kill her if she ever harmed medkit again

Ban hammer- she tried to reach out to ban hammer as a friend, but got shot down instantly. ban arrested her once, but she was quickly let go due to her immunity, ban saying "we're not friends, don't act like we are" and "if it weren't for your immunity you'd be in banland by now."

Hyperlaser- basically canon subspace and hyperlaser, just minus the taunting and blackmail from subspace, he's one of the only people who respects subspace's pronouns! but he also tells her to shut up a lot.

any biograft/omegagraft/betagraft- thats her children guys!!!! she's so proud of her robotic sons!!! look at the murder machines go!!!

Traffic- one of the other people who respect her pronouns, she offers shelter when he's in blackrock, they're friends!

Zuka- they're not in contact anymore, they only interact when she heads to phights, thats it...

Lord pwnatious- the rich nepo baby she does not like and took the omegagraft from, they're on bad terms now. horrible for her pwn's family is a noble family

Rocket- they know vaugely of each other, but not enough for an opinion, (could have been siblings if zuka adopted subspace but alas...)

The Broker- Has probably sent her one too many threatining calls to make sure she stays away from harming medkit. she doesn't interact with him otherwise.

#ooc post #mod talking #LORE!!!!

[sage-nebula]

"Friede's using himself as a decoy to keep us safe."

I rambled about this in the tags of a reblog, but hell, I'm going to go ahead and make a separate meta post about it as well, because it's something that I think could have a delicious narrative impact on a future Horizons arc if the writers choose to utilize it. (And even if they don't, it could make for some delicious fic.)

So, one thing I noticed on my catch up binge of Horizons is that Liko and Roy (and to a lesser extent Dot) see Friede not only as the leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers, but also as a hero -- as their hero. This especially jumped out at me in episode 25, when Friede had them take shelter in the tower of the ancient castle while he battled Amethio. Not only did they readily listen to him when he told them to stay put inside the tower while he alone went to the exposed top, but then we were treated to this:

This whole sequence is notable for several reasons:

Friede jumps off the tower to draw Amethio away from the higher floor of the tower where Liko and Roy are sheltering, so that Amethio has a lower chance of going after them.

As he passes by their window, Friede gives them a wink and a smile, to comfort and encourage them.

The animators made sure to show us not only how Friede looked from Liko and Roy's perspective (heroic), but also how awed they were by giving us a full shot of their own facial expressions.

Just in case it wasn't obvious enough, Roy and Liko spell it out themselves that Friede is using himself as bait for Amethio in order to protect them, not only telling the audience what he's doing in case the audience didn't pick up on it (which, young children do watch this show), but also showing how this knowledge affects them, because Roy's voice is shaking a little when he says his line, and Liko's is hushed.

This was a very scary night for these two kids. They were outnumbered, their enemies were much stronger than they were, they were being pursued and in hiding. But Friede put himself between them and the greatest, nearest threat, and did his best to comfort them as he did so. To give them a wink and a smile as if to say, "Don't worry, it'll be okay."

And this isn't the only time.

We would be here all day if I grabbed screenshots of every time Friede rushed in to either save the kids from danger (either directly himself or by sending Cap in his place), or check on their well being after the fact to make sure that they were unharmed. Often, he does both in the course of the same episode, sometimes multiple times. Hell, his establishing character moment in the very beginning of the series is a heroic rescue whereupon he enters the scene to protect Liko from Amethio on the rooftop of her school. Friede makes it a point to prioritize the kids' safety and well-being, and as a result, they've reached the natural conclusion: they view him as a hero. As their hero.

So then, the question must be asked: what happens if their hero is taken out of the picture?

The question needs to be asked for a few reasons, and not just because I have a love for angst. The first reason is because we've already been given a teaser of what would happen at the end of the Terapagos Shine arc. In episode 44, Friede was trapped in a tower of Spinel's design. Though neither Liko nor Roy knew that the tower was a trap by Spinel, they did know that Friede was trapped inside -- and both immediately panicked upon seeing that Friede was trapped in a tower beyond their reach in enemy territory.

Roy immediately tried opening the door and, when repeated attempts to yank it open wouldn't work, banged it on it with his fists while yelling Friede's name. Liko, meanwhile, stared in abject terror. And even after Friede reassures them, Roy still frantically demands more answers while Liko just as frantically wants to know if Friede is okay, and a little bit after that has to take a deep breath to try to get herself to calm down. Keep in mind that just an episode prior to this, when faced with a sudden attack by the Explorers, Liko's first instinct was to call Friede for help, while Roy said that he would battle because there was no time to call Friede (not because calling for backup wasn't necessary). Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the kids aren't brave. Of course they are! They both insisted on going on this mission in the first place! And they're there because, as concerned as Friede is for their safety, he is also Professor Pushover when it comes to them and caved immediately to their puppy eyes. But they also feel much safer on that mission because Friede is there with him. Feeling that he is in danger, cut off from them like that -- the stakes suddenly became that much more real.

And on the other side of the door, Friede knew it as well. And how did he react?

He's not happy. He knows this is a bad situation. But --

He does what he always does: he doesn't let on at all that this is a bad situation, so as not to worry and scare the kids. He also tells them to leave the area, because Spinel is there and Spinel is dangerous, and he wants to get them away from that danger. To date, Spinel is the most dangerous Explorer that they've encountered. Remember, Spinel is the one who successfully stole Terapagos' pendant, and the one who wiped Liko's memory and had her missing in Levincia for awhile. It's understandable why Friede would prioritize getting the kids as far away from him as possible.

So, to recap:

In a situation where, as far as the kids knew, Friede was just temporarily locked in a room away from them (in enemy territory but not with an enemy) and could still talk to them, it freaked them out enough to make them panic, and it took Landau telling them that they had to believe Friede could get himself out of the room and that they had to move forward for Liko to deep breath her way out of her mounting panic attack so she and Roy could move on. In a situation where Friede was actually captured, then, we could probably expect their reactions -- at least, their initial reactions -- to be much worse.

And I consider this possibility for two specific reasons: one genre, and one narrative.

First, genre. Pokémon has always been a coming-of-age story of sorts, but I feel that the Horizons anime feels especially so, focusing very strongly on Liko, Roy, and Dot as they grow up and discover both who they are, and who they want to be when they're older. (This has been especially emphasized with Liko and Dot, I feel; with Roy, he hasn't really thought about the future beyond battling Rayquaza.) The thing about coming-of-age stories set in fantasy settings, though -- rather, the thing about coming-of-age stories set in fantasy settings wherein the young protagonist has a stronger mentor that they can lean on to bail them out of jams is that, if they can consistently rely on the mentor to bail them out of jams and danger, then it doesn't give them the opportunity to overcome that danger themselves. Therefore, very often those stories will kill off the mentor character to force the younger protagonist character to go off on their own to face the primary villains in the end. Hence the deaths of characters like Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars, Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, and so on.

Now, given that this is a Pokémon anime, obviously they're not going to have Spinel murder Friede. I mean, true, they let Zygarde kill Lysandre on Bonnie's order at the end of the XYZ anime, but Lysandre was the big bad and we didn't see his corpse, it was just heavily implied that he didn't survive what Zygarde did to him. Same with Hunter J and her crew in the DP anime. Did she live? Probably not, but we never saw the bodies, so hey, plausible deniability, and they were villains anyway, so. But Friede is a main character, and a hero, so we can be 99.9% sure that they're not going to have Spinel or anyone else murder him in order to force the kids to get by without him for awhile.

However, Friede doesn't have to die for him to be taken out of the action. He just needs to be put into a position where it is physically impossible for him to get to them to save them when they're in danger (and for them to know that he can't get to them when they're in danger). But I'm getting ahead of myself. The point I'm making here is that, for genre reasons, the writers have a reason to want to remove Friede from the field of play in order to force Liko, Roy, and Dot to stand on their own against the Explorers. Because while they would still have the rest of the adult crew of the Rising Volt Tacklers, the rest of the adult crew aren't really battlers. The only one among them who has a fully evolved pokémon is Orio with Metagross, and we've only seen her attempt to battle once. It doesn't mean she can't, of course, but it does imply that perhaps she's not an active battler. Certainly, she's not the one rushing in to save the kids all the time like Friede is. The rest of the RVT crew is important as well, but Friede is the one who would cause the real narrative impact here, as well as the psychological impact on the kids.

(And to briefly address Dot, since I've barely talked about her: Dot hasn't received as much focus in this discussion since she rarely leaves the ship, and thus hasn't been in as much danger as Liko and Roy. However, Friede has had as much of an impact on her life and I believe she sees him as a personal hero just as much. He is, after all, the one who gave her the new life that has impacted her so greatly. He's the one whose thesis first caught her attention. He showed an interest in her interests. He called her abilities special. He invited her to join the Brave Asagi. He brought her aboard no questions asked, made her feel welcomed, has never shamed her for being a shut-in, so on and so forth. Friede treats Dot with as much respect as he does the rest of the crew and his offer to let her become a crew member changed her life for the better. So while he hasn't had to rescue her as much as the other two, I think she does see him as a hero just as Liko and Roy do, and would be just as affected if something happened to him as they would be.)

The other reason why I think the question needs to be asked is a narrative one. I think, from a narrative perspective, it would simply make sense for the Explorers to want to do something about Friede at some point, particularly if they wish to take Terapagos from Liko (or get the kids out of the way of their plans for Rayquaza / Terapagos / Rakua). Again, whenever the kids are in danger, Friede swoops in and saves them. This is something that Spinel, at least, has noticed; he built the trap on the island specifically to imprison Friede. Why would he do that, if Friede was not at the very least a nuisance, at the very most a threat? And at the end of it all, we got this:

Which then brings me back to what I mentioned earlier: since the anime clearly can't (and won't) murder Friede, because that would be going way too far for a Pokémon anime, if the writers do choose to temporarily remove him from the field of play in order to give the kids room to stand on their own two feet without Professor Safety Net, then I could see this playing out one of two ways.

The first (and most delicious) way is obvious: have him be captured by the Explorers. I feel that this is already set up by Spinel's little smirk and comment above. Spinel has already designed one trap meant to imprison Friede; there is nothing stopping him from designing more. Of course, it would require nerfing Friede (and Cap) a bit, in order to leave them captured for a good while; but it would also give the kids a mission, that mission being rescuing Friede and Cap in a reversal of all the rescues Friede and Cap have provided for them thus far, while simultaneously taking the fight to the Explorers, versus the Explorers always coming after them. Of course, this does carry the risk of still seeming too dark for the writers to want to consider, since Friede would be a prisoner during all this, but if nothing else, I can always write fic.

The second possibility that is less obvious and more bonkers, but less dark and so somehow more plausible in my mind, is that Friede could somehow end up trapped in Rakua with Lucius. And before you're like "what," consider this:

Friede has a plan that involves the three Heroes they've obtained so far. If I had to guess, Friede is going to continue pursuing the remaining Six Heroes while the kids are on their Terastal course. And that's fine / good; he's continuing the mission so they don't lose time, although how he's going to do that without Terapagos is a mystery. (Although I'm sure Liko would let him borrow Terry if he just asked.) But the point is, he's got this mysterious plan involving the three Heroes they currently have. Rakua is some mysterious place that isn't on any maps and so could very well be another dimension or something similar, because those are 100% canonically real in the Pokémon world (e.g. the Distortion World). It would behoove the writers to have Friede off the field of play for awhile, to the extent that it is physically impossible for him to help the kids. And the kids also intend to reach Rakua because that's what Terapagos wants. So if Friede somehow got trapped in Rakua, then they would be killing two birds with one stone: Friede can no longer help the kids when they're in danger from the Explorers, and the kids can rescue Friede when they take Terapagos to Rakua to see Lucius' spirit (or just Lucius himself if Lucius has been alive in Rakua all this time because it's like a fountain of youth or limbo or something). Bonus points if the kids don't even know that's where Friede is, if they just know that something happened to him but don't know what, but they keep working toward Rakua anyway because the other adults on the crew convince them that Friede would want them to. (But Friede can maybe still somehow get messages to them through Terapagos visions or something, I don't know.)

I could honestly see this being the way they go with it, simply because it's less dramatic than "the enemy has taken your mentor hostage and taunt you about how powerless you are to do anything about it and also they're going to hunt you down to steal your little turtle, too." Plus they're setting Friede up to do something with the three Heroes, and it can't be for nothing. But then again, neither can Spinel's interest . . .

Either way, the fact that the kids so clearly see Friede as their hero, and the way it would impact them to have something happen to him as a result, has lived in my head ever since episode 25. Particularly since it would have a narrative impact as well, given how often he is their safety net, and what it would mean if he couldn't be any longer. Not because he chose not to, because he would never choose that; but because he couldn't, because external forces took that choice away.

Well. Even if the anime itself doesn't deliver, that won't stop me. :)

#pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #pokemon horizons #horizons anime #professor friede #trainer liko #trainer roy #trainer dot #rising volt tacklers

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 20: Robotics

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Mikey moans as he wakes with a headache. His nose is stuffed up and his limbs are plagued by a dull ache. Donnie is by his side in an instant, smiling at him as he presses a glass of water to his lips, forcing him to hydrate.

"Good morning, Angelo," he says.

Angelo? His name is Mikey...

"How are you feeling?"

Mikey groans wordlessly at him.

"You ready for some breakfast?"

"Mikey doesn't get out of bed today," he announces grumpily, pressing his face deeper into the pillow.

Donnie rubs his cranium, pressing his palm against Mikey's forehead as he checks for any remaining fever.

"Hmm. I guess you're right, you won't be getting out of bed today," Donnie states, placing the cup on a side table and turning the lights off. "You get some more rest and join us whenever you're ready, okay?"

Mikey nods with a yawn, shimmying deeper under the blankets and purring with contentment.

"Leo or Raph will be in with your memory medication from Draxum. But other than that, I guess nothing eventful or interesting will be happening today," Donnie says as he walks out of Mikey's room.

.

.

.

Professor Honeycutt is sitting in his labs, silently working on a new droid design. This one is different from the other machines he's been forced to build while employed here. All the other designs were weapons, or used to create chaos, or made to hurt the experiments (with one in particular in mind). But this one will be a sentry guard. A protector. SENTRY AUTOMATIC LIFESAVER. He's nicknamed it 'SAL' for now.

The body of the machine is finished for the most part. He's still working on the arms, trying to create a spring mechanism that can cause them to stretch to extreme lengths without breaking. He'd also like to add the same kind of metallic-elastic springs to the legs, even though he's already finished with those. But hey, he doesn't mind working on them again! Anything to avoid the real thing that's stumping him.

Honeycutt is struggling with the robot's AI, specifically its moral center and higher reasoning. He never got around to finishing the moral center for the last AI he built, and now it's starting to unnerve him. He can program the three laws of robotics, but he knows that sometimes you need to make a decision that disregards logic. He's seen movies. They may be inaccurate, but he'd have to agree with a few points they make.

So he's procrastinating on the brain. Well, there is a brain in the head, but it doesn't have any information in it, apart from some basic codes for movement and functions.

Most days, Zayton doesn't even know why he's here. He joined the EPF for the funding, plain and simple. The cause sounded good, and they would help pay for all his robotics and engineering. He had all the money and freedom he could ever want to 'play with his toys'. What could be better? He should have known it was too good to be true. After a month of getting to build whatever he wanted in a secret bunker off the coast of Buffalo, he was called in to help with some work in NYC. And now... he's stuck doing this. Building ice blasters and dart guns and training robots that fight you to the death.

He's a man of peace.

But lately, he's been confusing 'peace' with 'staying out of it'.

Honeycutt's phone buzzes. It's probably another order from Timothy, or Chaplin wants help with the A.LP.H.A. device, or something just as irritating and dangerous.

"Hello, this is Professor Zayton Honeycutt speaking."

"Hey, doc, it's Bishop."

Honeycutt drops his tools and quiets his voice.

"Ah, John. H-how nice to hear from you again... how are the plans for your -- ahem, 'mother's recovery'?"

The two of them have come up with a special code to talk about Mikey without attracting attention.

"We still don't have any information about her condition. But I think she's still with her 'extended family'."

Mikey is still hidden in the sewers with the other mutants like him.

"Have the doctors found anything?"

"Not to my knowledge. But I heard that they did an 'impromptu check-up', and I should be hearing more about that later."

They sent drones into the sewer tunnels. As to be expected.

"When do you suppose that they'll tell you the details of that check-up?"

"No idea. I get the feeling that I'll have to make some calls to a few nurses..."

"Well, if it helps, I could ask around."

Bishop's voice goes quiet.

"...Doc, I don't know if that's wise..."

"Why not? I built those dro-- ahem, I mean, I know a few nurses in the clinic. I could get some answers for you."

The line stays silent for a moment before Bishop answers.

"...Okay, Doc. Just... be careful."

"Of course!" Honeycutt chuckles nervously. "Don't even worry. But, eh, speaking of your mother, I was wondering how the 'quilt' she's sewing is coming along?"

The 'quilt' is code for their side project. Most of the experiments and actions of the EPF scientista here are unsanctioned and illegal, covered up under all the red tape and paperwork and made to look as though they are for the 'greater good'. Bishop and Honeycutt have been working to find evidence of all the mutations and genetic experiments and legal workarounds that they've done here.

"I've been getting some more 'thread' for her."

Paper trails.

"Does she need any 'fabrics'? I know she was looking for some nice patterns, last time we spoke."

Photographic evidence of the animals or krang parasites.

"She could use some later. But for now, she's worried that she might be overspending."

Bishop is afraid that they've attracted attention, he wants Honeycutt to lay low.

"Okay then. Tell her I said hello."

"Will do. And Doc? Really, be careful. I don't want you getting sick like my mother."

"...I thank you for the concern, John. It's very decent of you. But I should be fine. I'll look into the... ahem, check-up results for you."

"Thanks. I'll be in touch."

The call ends.

Honeycutt exhales loudly, hoping that by the time all the used air in his lungs escapes him, he'll have also rid himself of the stress that lingers in him.

It doesn't.

Honeycutt lets S.A.L. rest on his desk. He stretches, cracking his spine and wrists before he walks out of his private workshop and into the halls. He could use an extra cup of coffee. He knows that he should try sleeping for once, but he can't really waste time right now. He has so much work to do, and now that Bishop recruited him he's busier than ever. It's a worthy cause and a noble sacrifice that he's more than willing to make.

Honeycutt walks through the halls, flinching at every door that opens and hurrying along his way. Every scientist that greets him with a wave or conversation starter, he simply hustles by them with a nod. He's never felt comfortable in this complex before, but now he's constantly unnerved.

Honeycutt shuffles into the elevator, down to the cafeteria to get a quick cup of joe, and back up to the security room. He considers stopping at the animal sections to see if he can grab any blood samples or photographic evidence... but Bishop is concerned, and the man has a surprising track record when it comes to following his gut. Maybe later... if he can find an excuse. A technical professor suddenly interested in genetics and bloodwork? Suspicious... but, maybe he can come up with some link between his work and the genetic studies... a robot that tracks DNA? Perfect! Only issue would be whether or not they'd buy it. A few might. But the big wigs in charge would ask questions. And Timothy and Chaplin might be against it, saying that none of the experiments can keep up against his tech thus far, so making a robot that advanced would be fruitless... he'll have to think of something else...

Prof. Honeycutt arrives at the security room, takes a quick swig of his black coffee for good measure, and then opens the door.

"Ms. Campbell," he greets flatly. "How are things?"

"Events are transpiring at a typical function and rate," she responds with a similar tone. "And I am working at full capacity, if that was what you were asking about."

"Thank you for the update," he says, moving beside her to watch the cameras. "How's the search for the escapee?"

"Still underway, but halted for the time being. Our drones discovered some odd wreckage in the tunnels, what looks like the ruins of someone's living quarters."

"Someone living in the sewers?" Honeycutt asks, feigning surprise.

"I detect sarcasm, unless I am mistaken," Ms. Campbell says, turning to look at him. "You knew beforehand about this?"

"Word gets around," he replies nervously. "I just wanted to know if it was true that there was something there. I'd heard that we were sending in drones -- and you know New York gossip, everyone thinks that there's some mysterious society of monsters living underneath us. And what with those mutants we've seen... I figured that perhaps one of them had made a shelter down there, possibly even our own little Mikey!"

Honeycutt realises that he's been prattling. It's a nervous trait. Ms. Campbell knows that. She can detect all sorts of tics and traits and habits and quirks. She has an incredible poker face, and she is a living lie detector.

She watches him, eyes analyzing every bead of sweat he creates.

"You are nervous."

"Q-quite so," he chuckles. "I'm just... concerned for Mikey."

That answer seems to satiate Ms. Campbell... for the moment. She turns around and starts to type something on the keyboard, and one of the screens plays glitchy feedback from a drone.

"Perhaps this will put you at ease, father," she says. "We found him."

Honeycutt watches in shock as a drone flies around the wreckage of a large opening in a sewer, complete with burst pipes, crumbled archways, and even broken down arcade games, though glory knows where those came from. On the walls are smeared paintings and spraypaint, words like 'cowabunga' and 'turtle power!' are scrawled across the stonework along with smiley faces, drawings of interesting action heroes and poses, and... what looks like portraits of turtles dressed as superheroes or ninjas. The drone flies through after looking around, hurrying down a corridor. After a several minutes of endless catacombs and passageways, it comes up to a light where the tunnels meet an abandoned section of the subways. The drone continues following a glow that leads to a secret hidden entrance. The drone presses itself up against the wall, waiting. After a few minutes, someone emerges from the door, peeking around. It's not Mikey, but...

"Is... is that...?"

"Another mutant creature like the escaped experiment, yes."

The creature looks down the halls nervously, before looking up behind him and shouting in fright as something dark green with yellow spots drops down on top of him. A flash of blue and the two vanish completely.

"What was that?!" Honeycutt yells, almost spilling his coffee as he moves closer to the video feed.

"Undetermined. But there have been reports of vigilantes that 'pop in and out' of crime scenes, fighting against the mutant outbreak. It is possible that he is one of said vigilantes," Ms. Campbell says. "And that is not all..."

Ms. Campbell speeds the playback to a moment several minutes later, when a human boy comes out of the entrance searching for something. He sees the drone and shouts, activating a high-tech chainsaw device and swings it at the drone, slashing it off the wall and shattering it completely.

"That was a human," Honeycutt says with hushed astonishment.

Bishop said that Mikey was with his 'family', so he sort of knew about the other mutants... but that was a human kid!

"I have been trying to run facial recognition on him to no avail," Ms. Campbell says. "He seems to have no identity."

In her voice, there is a twinge of disappointment, or rather, irritation with the failure. It shouldn't surprise him, he made her with the intention of resembling human in almost every aspect, so her exercise of emotions is not unprecedented. But the attitude, the dark personality lingering under the fake skin and steel grey eyes... that frightens him. Her AI was never completed, at least not in the ways he wanted. But she seems to be growing, evolving, learning. He didn't put that in there.

"Have... have you sent any more drones?" he asks, swallowing the nervous pit in his stomach every time he's with Ms. Campbell.

"Yes. But there seems to be some kind of electromagnetic field surrounding the area now, and any drone that crosses the threshold deactivates and short-circuits."

"Do we know why?"

"They mutants must be protecting their habitat," she states, going back to the original security footage. "But now that we know where they are, it is only a matter of time before we can discover more about their numbers and motives."

Honeycutt watches the screens at the bottom of the video stack, the ones with live drone feed. Three new devices are being sent to the previous drone's last known location. They fly up until a certain point before the feed warps into static and the drones crash, their live recordings die out with a high-pitched whine and crackle.

"I suppose I should contact Dr. Chaplin to make a new plan for the onset for the escaped experiment... Unless you have some theories, father?"

She still calls him father. All his creations tend to do that, he's noticed. But he's not sure how to feel about her calling him that. It feels eerie that she does, but the day she stops referring to him as such will be even scarier.

"I... couldn't say... p-perhaps I could create a device to counter the firewall?" he suggests. "Or maybe we could--"

The screens suddenly all glitch in unison, flashing quickly before turning a single shade of purple. Each monitor works in perfect harmony to create a large, singular image.

Professor Honeycutt steps back in shock. Ms. Campbell tilts her head slightly.

A series of words appear on the screen.

LEAVE US ALONE.

LEAVE US ALONE.

LEAVE US ALONE.

"Ominous," Ms. Campbell states calmly. "And quite interesting. I cannot say that the EPF has ever had any hackers before..."

The screens go dead, the room engulfed in darkness.

Before Honeycutt can say anything, a soft grey pixely static shows up on the screens, brightening the room again in time. The camera feeds return -- save for the drones, which still give no output nor input.

"I would say those vigilante mutants could be classified as hostile, wouldn't you agree?" Ms. Campbell says, turning to Honeycutt.

"Er, um, perhaps," he says nervously, loosening his shirt collar. "But you know me, I prefer to play the Switzerland of these mutant affairs. I'd rather stay out of it. I might suggest we do the same with these drones spies --"

"Why?" she asks, suspicion in her voice.

"Well, see... these mutants see us as an invading force. When an animal believes its habitat to be encroached upon, it will go to great lengths to defend it. These mutants may be doing the same thing, which could end badly for us..."

Ms. Campbell thinks it over.

"They have already fled one habitat," she responds. "So, in your scientific understanding, would they choose fight or flight over this new habitat they've created?"

"I-I'm not sure, animal science is not my area of expertise, but --" he swallows. "-- b-but I would assume that they would prefer to keep their new abode. Considering the lengths they've gone to thus far, they will not give it up easily."

"Hmm. Then this shall be a challenge, eh, father?"

Ms. Campbell smiles cruely.

He's never seen her do that.

"Q-q-quite so," he mumbles as he stumbles out of the room. "I should head back to work now... s-see you later, Ms. Campbell..."

His hand shakes, splashing the coffee in his cup. He's had enough of this for one day... he needs to call Bishop.

Honeycutt may not have the gut instincts that Bishop does, but something is telling him that things are about to get a lot more dangerous...

Prev || Next

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt au #double mutation mikey #double mutated mikey #double mutation #double mutated #mutated #mutant #mutation #mutants #epf #earth protection force #rottmnt epf #rottmnt earth protection force #tmnt honeycutt #tmnt ms campbell #tmnt bishop #rottmnt bishop #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic recs #rottmnt fanfic #fanfic update #fanfics #fanfic rec #fanfiction #fanfic

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason

I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something

And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art

Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?

Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)

My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)

As for my methods and techniques…

Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.

I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!

Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.

Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!

I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D

Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:

#ask #art tips #thank you! #it’s also definitely a lot of practice and winging it lol #i still don’t know how thighs and calves work sometimes

[fireflyinks]

karaoke and cowboy hats

colt seavers x costume designer/manager!reader

there will be multiple parts, this is part one !!

a/n : so so so much fun to write, and probably one of my longest and favorite fics i’ve ever written. i love colt and ryan gosling, and tried to add as many easter eggs from “the fall guy” as possible

summary : colt always seems to be misplacing his costumes pieces, which has him constant coming back to the costume manager and designer, y/n. the two decide to hang out for once outside of set.

contains: this is just purely fluff and good vibes, no smut, cursing, “will they, won’t they”, part two will have more romance dw

word count : 3.7k

Working with Tom Ryder was one of the most difficult tasks one could be assigned. He was arrogant, narcissistic, and overall just a complete asshole. I had the misfortune of being the costume designer and manager for the up and coming film “Metalstorm”, and Jody, the director, insisted on the most cliché cowboy get ups imaginable, plus a gold metallic touch. Having worked with Ryder many times previously, I knew he would hate this. I had prepared myself for one of his meltdowns long before it actually happened, but it still somehow caught me off guard.

“What the fuck is this?” He stormed into the costume tent, causing me to jump up from my seat in panic.

“Ryder... Jody insisted you wear this.”

Ryder looked down at his attire in utter disgust. “Don’t try to blame anybody but yourself. This is your fault. Are you trying to embarrass me? Do you have some personal vendetta? I’ve never even worked with you before!”

It stung that he didn’t even recognize me from our previous jobs together, but I tried to ignore it. Looking at Ryder’s get-up, he didn’t even look half bad. The gold metallic suit went great with his complexion, and the cowboy hat added a charming touch. But he wasn’t having any of it.

“You have to wear it. It’s not an option. This is your costume.” I tried to act brave, as if his harsh voice didn’t effect me one bit.

“You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m going to be caught dead wearing this. Say goodbye to your job, nobody speaks to me like that. I’m Tom god-damned Ryder.”

The tent’s entrance opened, revealing a very angry Colt.

Colt and I were sort of close, as close as most coworkers get. I didn’t think we’d never hang out outside of set, but I considered him sort of an ally. When he wasn’t performing a dangerous stunt, he’d talk to me about whatever was on his mind and listen to me ramble on and on.

“Just leave her alone, Ryder. She’s not here for you to bitch at.”

It would be hard to deny the fact that I had a small crush on Colt. He was everything I could want; charming, tall, handsome. But in those moments, as he defended me, I could feel it turning to a major crush.

Anger pulsed through him as he walked over to Ryder. I’d actually never seen him so pissed off before. Colt, the easy going, overly sweet, fall guy, was bowing up on Tom Ryder.

I could tell Ryder wanted to say something back, but instead he bit his tongue as he strutted past Colt, making sure to bump shoulders with him on the way out.

Colt shook his head, making eye contact with me. He had a sorry expression on his face, genuine pity for me.

“Ignore him. Ryder’s a jackass.”

I giggled, “That’s an understatement.”

He chuckled, “Anyways, do you have any extra hats? I somehow managed to lose mine, and I already have some stunts I need to do.”

Colt nervously twiddled his thumbs, embarrassed of his clumsiness. It was our third day on set, and he’d already misplaced his hat.

I nodded, smiling. Colt was always losing his props and costume pieces in previous projects we’d worked together in, so I’d remembered to bring extras. Turning around to reach into the bucket of hats, I pulled one out and handed it to him.

“Thanks. And again, just don’t let Ryder get to you. I know you’ve worked with him before, but don’t take anything he says personally, okay? If he gives you any problems, just let me know, alright?”

It wasn’t surprising that Colt remembered me from past projects, but it still felt nice in contrast to Ryder’s forgetfulness.

I nodded, smiling. “Thanks Colt, I really appreciate that.”

My cheeks burned a light crimson shade, and I tilted my head down, hoping he didn’t notice.

As he walked out of the tent, I added “Let me know if you need another hat or anything. I brought extras just for you.”

Colt looked back at me, smirking. “I will definitely need another one, thanks sweetheart.”

The simple nickname made my head spin. Yep, this is definitely a major crush.

—

By day five of filming, Ryder had become okay with his costume. Well, maybe not okay, but definitely impartial. Perhaps because his ego had realized how ridiculously good the suit made him look, or maybe Colt had spoken to him alone about the matter.

Part of me hoped it was the latter.

My job as costume designer and manager was really simple; fix and replace shit all the time. Especially Colt’s shit. When day six rolled around, he had lost three hats, his metallic jacket, and somehow a singular shoe. I’m not kidding, he had stumbled into the costume tent, peg footed, hobbling on the shoe he’d managed to keep. I didn’t mind though. In fact, Colt was one of the few people that actually visited me in the tent, instead of walking in, grabbing their belongings, and quickly walking out, not saying a word or acknowledging my existence. Colt’s visits slowly became one of the only things I looked forward to during filming.

On day twelve, when Colt came in to the tent without a cowboy hat once again, I mustered up the courage to ask him the one thing I never thought I’d be able to ask.

“Do you want to hang out sometime. You know, just me and you? Outside of set.”

The sides of his mouth quirked up. “I’d love that actually. But I do have one request.”

I furrowed my brows, listening intently. “If me and you go out, you have to wear a cowboy hat.”

My mouth dropped open in protest, but he argued on. “You’ve seen me in these stupid things so many times, too many times to count. I’m completely and utterly embarrassed. Maybe I want to see you sporting your southern spirit for once.”

“I’m from Wisconsin!” I giggled, shaking my head rapidly. “I am not wearing one of these things in public.”

Colt rolled his eyes, “Fine, but you have to wear one around set for the rest of filming. Deal?”

I sighed, remembering that I barely ever exit my tent other than at lunch time and when leaving set for the day. “Deal.”

“Karaoke, seven, tonight. I’ll text you the address.”

Colt turned to leave, and I grabbed his shoulder, pausing him.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, yeah.” Colt chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. We exchanged numbers, and he laughed at the excessive amount of repetitive digits in mine.

“And I’m expecting our deal to begin right now.” He said, glancing at the bucket of hats behind me. I sighed, picking one out and placing it upon my head.

“Happy?” I asked, holding out spirit fingers beside me.

Colt beamed, “Perfect.”

He turned and left the tent, and I pulled out my phone and began to update Colt’s contact name, only to sigh and pocket my phone again. Apple somehow doesn’t have a cowboy hat emoji.

—

When my Uber lazily pulled up to the karaoke bar, anxiety pooled in my stomach all at once. I shouldn’t have been this nervous, and I knew I was making this out to be something that it wasn’t. A date.

But what exactly was I supposed to think of this as? Hangouts happen at people’s houses, dates happen at bars. Plus it didn’t help that it was Colt and I alone. I look down at the sun dress that I donned, running my hands down the skirt. This wasn’t too formal, right?

I stepped out of the black car, thanking the half asleep driver, and walked toward the bar. I opened the door and automatically spotted Colt sitting by himself, drinking a small, lean glass of something colorful. The bar wasn’t exactly packed, but it wasn’t empty either. Numerous people danced around as a man in a orange and green polka dot button up did a bad rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance”.

Making my way towards him, the anxiety filled my stomach even higher.

“Hey.” I said nervously, sitting down beside him.

Colt looked at me, examining my attire. “You look great.”

I blushed, shrugging. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

I wasn’t too keen on getting drunk because we still had to go to set in the morning and the last thing I wanted Colt Seavers to see was me throwing up in a bush, but a drink or two couldn’t hurt.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure,” I grabbed the bartender’s attention, “Can I please get a margarita?” She nodded, scrambling to assemble the cocktail.

“So I’m guessing you don’t drink much?” Colt asked, his lips in a sly smirk.

“What makes you say that?”

I chuckled, drinking the last of what I assume what his first drink and ordering another. I then learned the bright liquid was a sunset on ice.

“Well you ordered the most basic drink known to mankind. I mean, at least make it spicy.”

I guess that was true, but I didn’t like experimenting with my orders much. I didn’t enjoy drinking much in general due to the effects it would have on me later.

“I like what I like.” I shrugged, thanking the bartender as she handed me the margarita.

We sat in silence for a moment, until Colt turned to me. “So, what are we singing?”

I coughed into my drink. I hadn’t even thought of what I was going to sing yet.

“Funny of you to assume were doing a duet.” I said slyly, playing off the fact that I was trying to pull a song out of my ass.

Colt raised his eye brows. “Okay, then go and serenade me.”

I nodded at him, walking over to the DJ and requesting “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. Once Polka Dots was done singing his heart out, the adrenaline had kicked in and I felt as if I ruled the world. Or maybe I just wanted to rule Colt’s world.

The small crowd clapped along as I sang, and I say Colt’s smile through the audience every time I tried to execute one of the runs in the song.

Afterwards, I walked over to him, slightly embarrassed but also proud. “How’d I do?”

His face was covered in amusement. “It was... entertaining.”

I giggled, punching his arm lightly. “You’re the one who told me to ‘sport my southern spirit’!”

He sighed, shaking his head sarcastically. “The cowboy had would’ve made it complete. You missed the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I think I’ll live. Now it’s your turn!”

I motioned towards the DJ booth, and he stood up turning back for a split second to wink at me.

I was expecting something silly. Maybe Total Eclipse of the Heart, or Sweet Caroline. I was terribly wrong.

By the time the first notes blared out of the speakers, I knew I was doomed.

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

It’s like he’d searched my brain, found my favorite love song of all time, and decided he was going to make me fall in love with him by singing it.

His voice wasn’t perfect. There were parts that were off key and shaky, but the bigger picture was beautiful. I never thought I could fall in love with someone in a karaoke bar.

Once he was done, my shoulders dropped and the tension left my body. It had been so unexpected, the tune had snuck up on me and now I felt head over heels to the man who had sung it. I wasn’t the only one who loved it, the crowd was going crazy.

“How’d I do?” Colt asked me, sipping the drink that had been waiting for him. This had to have been his third drink, and I could tell he was tipsy from the way he spoke.

“It was great.” I wanted to scream ‘It was amazing! It was perfect! Please marry me!’ But thankfully I did not.

“‘Glad you liked it.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I got the guts to ask.

“Why that song?”

Colt hummed, as if asking me to repeat my question.

“Why’d you pick that song?”

He grinned to himself before shrugging. “I just like the song, I guess. It’s one of my favorites.”

It could’ve been my habit of overthinking and examining everything to the smallest detail, or it could’ve been the psychology course that I took in college and obsessively studied over for months, but Colt’s excessive blinking in those moments told me there was a good chance he was lying to me.

Why would he lie over a song?

“It’s one of my favorites too.” I smiled. I’d find out why he lied to me later.

Colt grinned to himself in satisfaction.

We sat there for another hour, and Colt drank two more tequila sunrises, which meant I was now his designated driver.

At about nine, I decided it was time to leave.

“Colt, I’m gonna give you a ride home, okay?”

Colt nodded dizzily.

“Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, here.” He clumsily handed me his keys, almost missing my hand. I stiffened a laugh. “Diane! Close out my tab, please.” The waitress handed him his card quickly.

We stood up, beginning to leave, when Colt turned back to the bartender. “Thank you, Diane, those drinks were great.”

I waved goodbye to Diane as well, reading the “Amy” on her name tag with a smile.

I got him into the car slowly, and began driving him home.

“Hey, y/n?”

I hummed, waiting to hear what he was about to say. Changes are it would be something ridiculous, and I was all here for it.

“You’re really pretty. Have you ever been told that?”

I blushed, and prayed the dark car shadowed me enough for him not to see.

“A time or two. Thank you, Colt.”

He leaned the passenger seat back, and I thought for a moment that he would go to sleep.

“Where are you staying?”

He turned his head to me, and shrugged. “Can we just go to yours?”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Colt Seavers, in my small temporary apartment that I was providing to stay in during the time we’d be filming. It wasn’t a mess since I’d only been staying in there for about two weeks, but it definitely wasn’t guest ready.

“Sure, why not?” I fumbled with my phone, pulling up my GPS app and getting directions to the apartment.

“Can I tell you something, y/n?”

I nodded slowly, ignoring the way my stomach felt when he said my name.

“I actually didn’t lose all of those hats.”

What?

I furrowed my eyebrows, whipping my head to look at him. “Then why’d you keep getting new ones from me?”

He hiccuped, smirking. “I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

If my face was a crimson shade before, it was a tomato now. I felt bad, like I was using Colt’s drunken state to get answers out of him.

“Did you like my song?” He looked over at me, waiting for my answer intensely.

My lips quirked up into a soft smile. “I did. ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ is actually one of my favorite songs.”

This made him giddy. He giggled like a school girl, and then stiffened a laugh myself.

“I know.” Colt said under his breath.

So he did know.

“How’d you know?” I pressed Colt for answers. I knew that if he found out he’d told me any of this while drunk, he’d be mortified, but I just couldn’t help my curiosity.

“I heard you listening to it one day on set. I was outside of your tent, about to come in to tell you that I’d lost another hat, but I stopped and listened for a while. You were singing along, and you sounded so good. That’s why I wanted to sing a duet with you.”

At this point, I’m the color of a fire truck.

We pulled up to the apartment, and I unbuckled, getting out. I walked over to Colt’s door and opened it for him.

“Very chivalrous, thank you my lady.”

I giggled, helping his wobbly frame out of the car. “You’re welcome kind gentleman.”

We walked into the apartment building, making our way up a flight of stairs. Well, I made my way up them, Colt tripped over himself with each new stair until he made it to the top. At one point, he almost fell all the way down them, and dragged me down by my arm with him, but he managed to catch himself.

I brought him to my room, closing the door behind him. It was small, the kitchen and lounging room directly next to one another, separated by no wall. There was a door that led to the bedroom with a bathroom connected.

Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed a plastic cup form the cupboard and filled it with water. I handed it to Colt, who turned his nose up at it like I were trying to feed him poison.

“You have to drink water or you’ll regret it in the morning, Colt. You still have to go in for filming, remember?”

He sighed, taking the cup from me and drinking it all at once. “I’m starving.”

I thought for a moment about what he could possibly find to eat in the apartment. Nothing. I’d pretty much been eating take out since I arrived to Sydney.

“I’ll order a pizza.”

I pulled my wallet out of my purse on the kitchen counter. Colt shook his head, reaching in his pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.”

“You got the drinks, Colt, it’s fine.” I insisted, grabbing my card.

Colt handed me his entire wallet, “made you pay for it.” his drowsy eyes said otherwise, “Please, just let me.”

I sighed, taking his wallet from him, “Thank you.” I said under my breath.

Colt only winked at me, lazily walking to the couch and plopping himself on it.

I ordered the pizza, assuming he liked pepperoni because who doesn’t like pepperoni?

I sat down beside him on the couch once I was finished. He was flipping through the different options on Netflix, his face was focused intently to find something.

Colt Seavers was on my couch. Well not necessarily my couch since the apartment was only being rented for me, but you get the point. We were on the couch together, tryin to find a movie to watch with pizza on the way. This realization made my cheeks feel hot once again.

“Here we go.” Colt chuckled as he clicked on the block buster film “Bad Cop, Good Dog” starring the one and only Tom Ryder.

“Get him off the screen, I might puke.” I giggled, attempting to grab the remote from him. Colt held it as far away as his much longer arms could manage, and I gave up.

“This is such a horrible film.” Colt told me, his eyes laser focused on the screen still.

“Then why are we watching it?”

Colt thought for a moment. “The way he talked to you the other day isn’t anything new. I’ve seen him talk to pretty much every one on every set we worked on together just like that. I just couldn’t always save them like I did you. It’s easy to think he’s some big, powerful guy, but in reality, he’s a pussy.”

I stayed silent for a moment. It felt nice, knowing that he still cared so deeply about the way Ryder had treated me.

“That’s nice and all, but it still doesn’t explain why exactly were watching this.”

Colt shrugged, “Oh, I just like making fun of him. We can watch something else if you want to.”

I snatched the remote from him, “Please.”

After a few more minutes of searching, I decided on the 1998 classic “The Parent Trap”.

“This movie never made any sense to me.” Colt crossed his arms as the movie started.

“Why?”

“Well, first off, what judge arranged this custody system? I mean seriously, how did both parents just up and leave with one kid?” He slurred so horribly that I had to fight a laugh as he spoke.

“It’s just a movie.” There are a few movies that I would defend with my life, this is definitely one of them.

“You can’t just use that as an excuse. Just because it’s a movie doesn’t mean it’s allowed to just defy all logic.”

“Colt,” I turned to face him, “You are working on a sci-if space cowboy movie with aliens. I think that makes the parent trap sound pretty reasonable.”

Colt chuckled, “Touché.”

My heart fluttered as I looked at Colt, lazily snuggled into my couch.

There was a knock at the door and I hopped up, walking through the kitchen and dodging Colt’s wallet, grabbing mine instead.

I paid for the pizza and brought it in, met with the sight of an extremely hungry Colt waiting impatiently at the counter.

“You didn’t use my wallet.”

I sighed, putting mine back in my purse. “I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own things.”

Colt shook his head. “You’re absolutely kicking my ass at the chivalry game.”

Grabbing a slice of pizza, I went back to the living room. Colt followed quickly behind me, and we got about one-fourth through the movie before I could tell Colt was getting extremely tired.

I got up, and went to my room, grabbing a blanket and a pillow.

“Here.” I handed them to him. Colt smiled up at me gratefully.

“Thanks.” He made himself comfortable, before leaning back and closing his eyes. The couch wasn’t very small, which was surprising since the apartment was so compact. This is why I didn’t feel bad about having him sleep on the couch. He didn’t complain either.

“Goodnight.” He mumbled, drifting off.

I smirked at him, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water to place beside the couch. I also grabbed the bathroom’s trash can. He was going to have a terrible hangover.

“Goodnight Colt.”

I had gotten a date with Colt Seavers for the small price of humiliating myself in a southern style for the rest of filming. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.

Or maybe it wasn’t date and I was delusional, but Colt ended up sleeping on my couch, which is pretty sweet if you ask me.

#the fall guy #ryan gosling #colt seavers #new movies #fluff #fanfiction #the fall guy fanfiction #colt seavers fanfiction #ryan gosling fanfiction #no smut #fanfic #writing

[lady-phasma]

This specific use of the 180 Degree Rule has been nagging me since the last trailer came out. The 180 Degree Rule refers to how the camera frames the subjects in a scene so that they are "switched" when the camera moves. This is less disorienting to viewers than if the subjects stayed on the same side of the frame every time (see example below). It's a small trick, but it is noticeable when it isn't used. Logic tells us they should stay on the same side of the frame but it really doesn't work. If you are interested in understanding this further there is a great sequence in Satoshi Kon's Paprika (2006) that explains it better than I have ever seen anywhere else.

Daemon's War

The exchange between Rhaenyra and Jace in episode 10 conveys so much meaning in so few words. I'm not going to discuss Rhaenyra's desires in this post or if they conflict with Daemon's. That would need its own post all to itself.

Jacaerys: Where is Daemon? Rhaenyra: I don't know. Gone to madness. Gone to plot his war.

Daemon and his motivations are revealed so concisely. There is certainly foreshadowing here, but I appreciate that Rhaenyra knows him so well and has no expectations of him (at this point) beyond what she has seen in the past.

Daemon makes bold assumptions and is arrogant enough to think his way is the best way. When he lists Meleys in their assets there is no doubt in his mind that Rhaenys will side with them in the war. But why does he assume this? What isn't being said is intriguing.

We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys. Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Baela has Moondancer. There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.

Then, at some point in season two, we see Daemon presumably stop Rhaenys by grabbing her arm.

This man is manipulative and good at it. Rhaenys is not pleased with him touching her. With no context at all, we only have a few words and body language to interpret. I can't wait to see if I'm correct about this when this episode airs. There is a threat or ultimatum here. Daemon's posture is so self-assured, hand resting on Dark Sister as if whatever he is saying has only one response: agreement.

Correct 180 (from trailer):

Might be helpful to cover one while watching the other.

Incorrect 180 (my edit):

What made this 180 rule from the trailer stick in my mind is how tight the frame is on Rhaenys for her reaction shot. A medium shot on Daemon cuts to a medium close up on her in order to show her facial expression. We can't interpret too much from trailer editing as it is specifically designed to manipulate and distract viewers in a different way from the final product. However, we are given Daemon's dialogue for this particular shot: "We are going to King's Landing." But what next? Why show her disdain, frustration, irritation? Is there an "or else" or some other technique to coerce her and House Velaryon?

Rhaenyra's words are relevant here as well as in the foreshadowing of the upcoming war. Daemon is not asking permission. His hostility, animosity, and wounded ego combine to make him rash. Another example of the applicability of the title The Rouge Prince. This isn't an argument that his character is made more complex by this foreshadowing, but that he has rarely, if ever, hidden his motives. His motivations are always clear even if they shift from selfish to selfless (which is only evident a handful of times). He is morally ambiguous to viewers because much of the time he seems to be amoral. He can stomach things that others cannot. He believes the end justifies the means. I think it will be fascinating to see how the showrunners, writers, and Matt can navigate someone becoming a villain without making him completely one dimensional. He is irredeemable and many of his fans love him for precisely that. He doesn't want to be redeemed. He wants to be in control.

I started writing this last night and today this amazing gifset comes across my dash so I had to link it.

#film studies #film studies nerd #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd season 2 #hotd spoilers #hotd s2 #matt smith #eve best #daemon targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #no one asked #forgot my last gif had to come back and add it oops

[icycoldninja]

Could you write a Sephiroth x GN!Yandere reader?

Ooh, a yandere reader fic! I've wanted to write one of these for ages! Thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Together forever (Sephiroth x GN!Yandere!Reader)

You'd become obsessed with Sephiroth the moment you laid eyes on him. His long, shimmering, silver hair, paired with his lovely, delicate face and those glittering neon green eyes captivated you. Everything about him was pure perfection--as if he were designed just to snatch your attention and hold it, even after he left the room.

You couldn't stop thinking about this gorgeous angel, your mind was constantly fixated on him. The way he moved, the way he spoke, the sound of his voice, all of it was so addictive.

You didn't realize it at first, but your obsession soon evolved into something much more than a mental preoccupation. You started stalking the man, following him around wherever he went, no matter how far away he traveled. You were willing to give up everything for him, forsake your friends, family, fortune, and even your home, if only you could make that man yours.

Sephiroth was well aware you were stalking him, but he never thought much about it because you were just a lowly mortal--you couldn't touch a blessed, all-powerful Chosen One such as himself. Therefore, he let you continue with your creepy behavior, not bothered by it in the slightest.

Not showing concern towards your acts had to be the worst mistake Sephiroth could have ever made, because in doing so, he allowed you an opportunity to break into his hideout one night and ambush him while his back was turned. The normally alert ex-SOLDIER would have usually sensed an intruder, but since he didn't take his not-so-secret admirer seriously, he let his guard down.

Once he found himself with a knife pressed against his throat, Sephiroth, being the arrogant, prideful man he is, still thought of your actions as weak and pathetic. He was so sure he could disarm and decapitate you with ease, but he was quickly proven wrong. For starters, you were way stronger than you looked--it seemed that your obsession with him resulted in you working out and gaining quite a lot of muscle. Not only that, but you had clearly been taking martial arts and weapon weilding lessons, as the way you held your knife was nothing short of expert.

"What do you think you are doing?" He demanded, struggling, for the first time in his life, to escape your grip.

"Hush my darling," You cooed, running your fingers across his smooth, supple skin that felt oh-so-lovely under your fingertips. "Don't be afraid. I'm here now--now we can be together, forever."

Sephiroth squirmed in your hold, seething with rage. He knew you were crazy, but to think you'd have the audacity to hold him at knifepoint to mumble some nonsense about being together!? As if! He'd like to think he could do better than you.

Deep down, however, there was a little spark of excitement that resonated throughout Sephiroth's core, waking up the cold, numb heart that had lumbered in his chest for so long. To be controlled and dominated like this was an entirely new experience for him, and perhaps, if you played your cards right, it would become something he could enjoy, especially if you meant what you said.

A small smile appeared on his face as you lightly dragged your blade across his throat, barely grazing the skin with the metal.

"Together forever?" He repeated, green eyes glinting with mischief. "Can you really keep that promise?"

Giddiness spreading through your body at the possibility of your dreams becoming reality, you placed a hand on Sephiroth's angelic face and turned his head so he was facing you.

"Yes, I swear it with my life," You told him. "And my knife." You noticed the smile on Sephiroth's face looked softer and warmer than his usual evil smirk. It seemed the prospect of having a constant companion was appealing to him in ways beyond carnal needs.

"I promise," You repeated, turning him so he faced you and throwing your arms around his shoulders. "I promise we will be together forever."

Slowly, tenatively, fearfully, Sephiroth's arms came up andaround you, reciprocating your hug.

"That...is all I need."

#Ff7 #Ffvii #final fantasy vii #Final fantasy 7 #ff7 sephiroth #ffvii sephiroth #final fantasy sephiroth #final fantasy 7 sephiroth #final fantasy vii sephiroth #sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth ffvii #sephiroth final fantasy #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth x you #ffvii sephiroth x reader #ff7 sephiroth x reader #sephiroth x reader fanfic #Sephiroth x reader ff7 #Sephiroth x reader ffvii #Fanfic #Yandere #warning yandere #tw knife #Character x yandere #Yanderer reader #Requested #thanks for requesting #icycoldninja writes #Hope you like it

[denial-permanente]

Hey!

I'd love to hear from experts advice.

Would you guys recommend a 12cm metal cage with "vertical bars" for a beginner and longer term use? (I don't know if the model has a specific name, it's quite frequent to see this design).

I want to lock my boyfriend for some consecutive days, having him relatively comfortable while he pleases me as well as his daily things. Right now I got him a plastic cage, adjustable in length but that still seems to give him a hard time to put on and, although he seems to cope with the discomfort, I get the feeling it might be a little more than what's right (consider we have no experience), and that's something I feel bad about. The cage I mentioned above should be bigger, so I thought it could be what I'm looking for, but I thought you might be able to tell me.

Thank you so much <3

🔏Tom here. It would have helped if you had a link or a name, but I think I understand what you're asking.

First, for the readers on this side of the pond, 12 cm is about 4-1/2" inches. If you are asking about vertical bars, I'm thinking of a particular cage that shows up in a lot of pictures, but is not really practical.

It seems counter-intuitive, but cages that are more snug are more comfortable in the long run. If a cage is large enough to allow an erection to grow partially, it will actually hurt. It's better to have a cage that prevents the erection from even starting. So find a cage that is about the same diameter as his flaccid penis.

The other factor is the length. Again, it's better in the long run to prevent an erection in the first place. Most guys report that a cage that is just about 6 mm (1/4") longer the length of their flaccid penis works well.

The difficult part is finding a cage with such dimensions. Men are infinitely varied in their dimensions, so you will have to go with something that is "close enough."

I have found an inexpensive Chinese cage called the A272. The inner diameter is a little bit snug, but it helps to prevent an erection. The length is a hair longer than I might need, but the next shorter model, the A271 is too short. Also, look at the cuff ring that holds it to his body. This model has a ring that is flat and wide, which has less pressure per square mm (inch), and is more comfortable to wear when you're aroused.

I'm not saying that this model will fit your BF; but you may want to look at models that are similar. They are inexpensive enough so that if you need to try a couple to figure out the best fit, then you have not wasted many pounds (dollars).

#chastity question

[triciadoodles]

Decided to do another MK warmup but wanted to draw Fujin in what he might look like in Earthrealm Protectors.

#His MK11 looks were a huge inspo for this #but the design still needs some work I think #Also not sold on the tattoo desings #but hey #everything is still a work in progress #mortal kombat #Mortal Kombat Fujin #MK Fujin #Mortal Kombat: Earthrealm Protectors #I'm proud of this ngl

[stealingpotatoes]

What's your opinion on Barriss and her story in Tales of the empire?

I liked it!! it was still a bit messy and needed more time or focus to work better, but it was LEAGUES better than morgan's episodes. my 2 pet peeves were "why was 4th sister 4th when she was clearly there before trilla (2nd) and reva (3rd)" (@just-prime pointed out they seem to have run out of inquisitor names LOL) and barriss' designs (partly cause head covering where???) or at least her inquisitor and episode 6 designs. both were so mid but i did a little sketchbook redesign of her inquisitor fit i watched it to heal myself

#basically my thoughts were this needs to feel more like a barriss outfit and it needs to be more distinct #bc her current one feels like Random Lackey Design compared to the incredible and unique quiz designs we've had before #(SHE IS STANDNG NEXT TO BIRDSKULL GUY LOOKIN THAT MID ??) #thoughts were keep the general outfit mostly the same but add in a hood and make the helmet FIT MORE WITH THE OTHER INQUISITORS #BC HER ONE LOOKED LIKE A BIONICLE #also i think this design works better narratively bc the hood suggests she's still a jedi (foreshadowing!) #but the sharper/ more cohesive helmet shows how shes still conforming w the other inquisitors #(which adds to the impact when she takes it off) #i think its wack how un-barriss the design was bc its not even like she was tortured into inquisiting (see: trilla) she just got gaslit #having her keep some of her prev elements would help the story AND her design #barriss offee #tales of the empire spoilers #outfit design #thanks for the ask! #sketchbook

[a-s-levynn]

"Wash me clean again before I pull myself beneath the waves" A Series of Small Offerings - III/11 - day31

#probably click for better quality? i can't work for the tumblr cropping my sketchbook is not compatible with it #a series of small offerings #sleep token #i had to stop trying to refine this at some point and this is good as any #i might make a post later about how the waves evolved because there was a point they looked so sad #but it think i'm okay with how they ended up #the entire piece is just so different from what i initially set out to do #i don't hate it but it is just simplified itself in a way i have not expected it but honestly probably got better for it #the only thing that stayed is the heavy inspiration or more accurately recreation in my style of nemesis design's mouth of infinity artwork #anyway i hope it looks as okay to y'all as it does to me #sleep token fanart #vessel fanart #vessel #vessel sleep token #sleep token vessel #sleep token band #sleeptoken #levynn tries to draw #i also need an adult i'm still in a colossal dilemma about the london ritual in november someone send an adult please #no i'm not one in this situation

[chiropteracupola]

a few friends from the Wood and the Riverbank

#em draws stuff #wind in the willows #witw #this is a redraw of my attempt at doing designs for these four about two years ago! #wanted to lean a little harder into the late-edwardian and also what I personally think could be fun out of these critters #also going to specify more clearly this time around that I'm drawing badger and ratty as butches! #also did that in the previous iteration but I think I communicated it better this time around #ratty's look here is also based on too-ticky - felt like the right place for some visual influence from tove jansson and tuulikki pietilä! #no glasses for mole in this iteration but I did think she needed something to spice up her design so she's got a little carbide lantern #and then I tried to give miss toad a big hat but it wasn't working out visually... you should still imagine one though :}

[saline-coelacanth]

Nya's design for my Scorched Au. Also this is my first time drawing Nya with her short hair so that's neat!

Nya's pretty important in this au. With Kai off doing his own thing, Nya ends up training to be a ninja/master of water WAY before she does so in canon since Wu thinks her abilities will be very useful. Which makes sense since you know, Kai is the master of fire. Having a master of water to deal with him would be pretty useful.

Although most of the time when fighting, Nya is trying her best to reason with Kai since she thinks if anyone can talk him down it's her. And while it's true that Nya's really the only one left that Kai cares about, he also sees the fact that Wu started training Nya as a way of replacing him which does not help his mindset at all.

Overall, it's complicated between these two. Obviously Nya doesn't like seeing all these places getting burnt down in Kai's path, but she also doesn't want to lose her brother. Meanwhile Kai doesn't want to hurt his sister, but he also wants to prove that he's good enough to be the Green Ninja so badly that he will burn down anything and anyone standing in his way.

Also bonus drawing of Kai seeing Nya as the water ninja for the first time:

#ninjago #lego ninjago #my art #scorched au #nya smith #nya jiang #kai smith #kai jiang #i had this au on the brain again and figured i should work on some character designs #also took all of my willpower not to make nya's gi grey #since i'm not a huge fan of her red/crimson/whatever you wanna call it colored gis #but since this takes place so early on it made sense #and also her wearing red also helps add to the whole thing of kai thinking she replaced him #since now she has his color #idk it just made sense to me #i still have one other major character i need to design for this au #but i won't say who that is just yet #it's a secret you guys will have to wait and see

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizontober 2023 | 18: tarot

#horizontober2023 #horizon forbidden west #hfw #hfwbs #aloy #pls don't come at me if this isn't a good interpretation of this tarot card bc i've never studied tarot T_T #but i looked it up and this is the one that spoke to me (that i thought i'd be able to do in photomode lol) #i actually got pretty into designing the border but it needs a lot more work and then i realized i saved my wip as a flattened image >.< #so....... all my layers are gone. fuck me. #still! i can recreate it without too much trouble (the pattern is an svg in inkscape) #and my quest to make svgs of the whole alphabet imitating the logo 'brushstrokes' on the horizon font continues #i think i've done most letters by now? just missing like q x y z and a few others #i also have a few variants (esp r/h/n) with different ascenders/descenders and some with the gaps in the vertical strokes #if anyone wants a word/title you're welcome to ask me and i'll see what i can do if i have time!

[0xochitlsketches0]

I’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with Cult of the Lamb recently, like seriously it’s been the only thing I’ve been thinking of.

And since I’m cringe I wanted to draw my ocs in the style. I mean what better why to celebrate a game about cults then drawings my characters who are apart if another cult in the style aldjsks

#I think I got the style down pretty well #design language??? I still need some work on lol #same with color pallets #the more I play the game the more I’ll understand their crafting choices #I don’t think mine are bad but they’re still a bit over dressed #so I have to find a way to simplify them further while still being recognizable #but I think they’re cute sgfutdht #the symbols on them are also important 👀 #still need to do research but it’s a start skfhdjkdn #cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb oc #pjo ocs #percy Jackson #percy Jackson oc #where the wisteria grows #aubrey blake #izabell del toro #wisteria witherroot