acescreations

[acescreations]

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

IT MAY TAKE ME A MONTH TO PUT OUT A CHAPTER BUT AT LEAST IM NOT USING AI TO WRITE IT

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one day you too could be a fanfic author who updates a decade later

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Leo

Used Hero Forge as a mannequin to trace. I never have to worry about anatomy again. I think. I hope.

@feindly-fire

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If you ever wonder why I don't update, this is usually the reason why.

Me opening up the word doc and getting stuck in the exact same place as last time

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Florence

The grass type of my punk gym leaders. My initial name for him was Thistle.

2 down, 16 to go

@thorns-and-whips

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I was planning on posting all of my Art Fight attacks at once at the end of tbe month, but seeing as I am burnt out, I don't think I'll make any more attacks, so I'll just post them now.

@/muricodon

@/orcusedika

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Ozzy

This is the start of a passion project I've been fostering, of making punk gym leaders for each type in Pokémon. This is Ozzy, the Normal type gym leader who runs his gym as a hobby while he finishes high school.

@boomburstwastaken

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I've been learning how to draw, so I'm rebranding to cover writing and art

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So anyway I've turned the Sanders Sides into my own characters they're a big family I love them and I will now explain them.

Background: Lucas's wife is secretly abusive to their kids whenever he isn't home. Once he discovers her treatment of his kids, he takes them and moves out with them, having to learn how to raise six children as a newly single dad.

The characters:

Lucas. The dad of all time. So much comphet he had six children with a woman he didn't really love. Does, however, very much love his kids.

Samuel. The oldest of the kids at sixteen years old. Puts the needs of his siblings above his own, instinctively takes on the role of a second dad and ignores his own needs in the process.

Lance. Twelve years old. Huge people pleaser who also does whatever he can to help the family. Basically all the time he has is spent on school, homework, or babysitting. He is. Very tired. Trying very hard to make up to his twin for what they had experienced.

Kris. Lance's twin. As the most rambunctious and impulsive of the kids, most of their mom's physical violence was directed at them, since everybody would assume they got injured on their own doing something dumb.

Blake. Ten years old. Literally the grumpiest, most aggressive ten year old you will ever meet. Yes, his mom did give him that scar. No, he did not tell anyone.

Cosmo. Eight years old. Defs autistic. Got most of the verbal abuse because his mom didn't like that he didn’t respond to social cues the "right" way. Already developing a sense of perfectionism due to the criticism.

Evan. Three years old. Doesn't quite remember his mom, but still gets nightmares pretty often and has separation anxiety. Cries whenever somebody yells.

Remington. Goes by Remy. Lance's crush at school. Has insomnia and also the most chill parents in the world.

Evelyn. One of the kids in Samuel's class. Big psychology nerd, has psychoanalyzed all of her classmates. Was so spot on with Samuel that he developed a squish on her. They end up becoming queerplatonic partners.

Feel free to send in prompts about them! Or honestly just last name suggestions sjdksksk. I'm probably mainly gonna write short stories about them and I'd love suggestions!

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Hey Prinxiety. Think you are comfortable enough to gave a talk about boundaries with your roommate? Or do you need another minute? It's fine if you do. Just wanted to check.

Prinxiety sighed, pulling a leg up to his chest. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I don’t think Anxceit wants to talk to me ever.” He stared off for a minute before continuing to mumble to himself. “God, imagine if we were actually roommates. I’d just straight up die I think.”

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[acescreations]

My guy,

the whole point of talking to him is so you know what you have in common

if you don’t wanna talk with me, your other option is to talk with him

or you can sulk, that works too

“I am not sulking!” Anxceit snapped. “And you know what? I don’t have to talk to either of you. I am completely fine on my own. In fact I’m better off without you people bossing me around and giving me shit.”

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[acescreations]

C̸ra̕ck͡e̵d.̛

Warnings: Extreme guilt, self-deprecation, death, Red being a douchebag

Trauma sunk down on the couch once he was sure the door to the mindscape was locked. Now he was alone, completely alone, for the first time in two months, and it was at the worst possible time. And yet, he knew it was his fault things were so bad.

He ran through in his head the entire argument, and everything leading up to it, too caught up in his thoughts to notice the short snaps coming from his cracking chest. He analyzed that fight more than he ever did in the moment, and every angle he looked at it, he could clearly tell he was the problem. There were so many moments he could've let go of his selfishness and his childish fears but he never did. And Ace got hurt because of it. He never wanted to hurt him, his only goal in life was to keep him safe, and he didn't only fail at that, he was the cause of the problem.

"She'd be better off without you." Trauma heard the voice behind him, not quick enough to notice before he got kicked to the ground.

"You're always stuck in the past." Red kicked Trauma over onto his back as he spoke, pressing his foot against Trauma's chest. Trauma tried to push him off, but for the first time in his life, he couldn't find the strength to fight back, to try to survive.

"You've hurt everyone who's come in contact with you. You failed Camijo. You failed Carver. You even failed Agape. How do you even manage to not be enough for a corpse?"

Red leaned forward, putting more pressure onto Trauma's chest as he got into his face. Trauma could feel his chest beginning to cave from the pressure Red was putting on him.

"You would be better off dead."

Trauma's chest caved in beneath Red's foot with a loud crack, his body jerking once before going limp, grey fog pouring out from his now concave chest. Red grinned as he pulled his foot back. "Happy Valentine's Day," he said as he walked out of the living room.

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C took a deep breath, pausing on her walk through the Imagination once she finally reached her destination. She looked up at the large trees that made up the Subconscious, and then down at the thick layer of fog that emerged from it. It was definitely ominous, though she wasn’t there for anything within the forest. Instead, she focused herself on the tombstones at the edge of the forest. The fog obscured most of the name plates, which would definitely make her search hard, but that didn’t matter to C at all. It would take maybe an hour of her time, and she’d be able to help Sophronia, well, function again. That was worth any amount of effort to her.

C smiled fondly when she thought about Soph. Despite how disturbing it was to see her without arms and clearly out of it, C still really enjoyed the idea of spending time with her, and she was sure Soph would appreciate C getting her those prosthetic arms from Ace’s old characters.

With that thought, C pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it on each of the tombstones as she passed by them. Fidda Farkas and Mphaka Amanta, she repeated to herself as she scanned the names, looking for the matching headstones. The first was fairly easy to find; the character was remembered fondly, so the tombstone was larger, better kept. She dug up the body, detaching the left arm from its shoulder. Glad I could find that one. C didn’t know which was Soph’s dominant hand- probably should’ve asked, oh well -but either way, this one was already a complete arm, so it could be attached immediately without C having to build onto it.

Now she had to find Mphaka, which she knew from the character’s history, would be much more challenging. The tombstone would definitely be smaller, not to mention that the character was older, so the dirt would’ve settled more. C made sure to keep her eyes sharp as she continued her search.

A few minutes into this, she noticed her light reflecting off something in the distance. She paused, focusing more closely on the object. It was small, at the very edge of the forest. C stepped closer, the fog fading enough for her to make out its orange color.

No.

C continued walking toward the object, hoping it wasn’t what she thought it was, but needing to know if it was.

It can’t be.

It wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

C slowly kneeled down in front of the object, a small, cracked orange crystal, and gently lifted it into her hands, almost as if she thought it would shatter completely if she wasn’t careful. She stared down at it, closely examining the crystal. Her heart began to sink as she realized that her fears were correct.

Even now, she recognized her dear Cami.

C pressed the broken core against her chest as she began to cry, her chest shaking as she leaned down against the ground. Her sobs got louder every second, and she screamed in pain and grief. The bright blue of her clothes melted away into a black as the tears poured down her face.

She finally got to hold her partner again. And they were already dead.

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Pain

I have a lot of experience of pain

Having a parasite that tortures me every night, that's to be expected

Recently, however, I've discovered a pain far worse than anything he could inflict

Worse than the blade of any knife

Or the heat of any inferno

It's the constant

Agonizing

Ache of solitude

I'm not unfamiliar with loneliness

It defined my life for years

But I've since experienced community

Friendship

Now I am without it once again

The resulting pain is getting your insides ripped out

That's something I know all about

... God, I'm really quoting songs again?

Have you ever wondered what it's like for a bird trapped in a cage its whole life?

Unable to ever stretch it's wings, never seeing any others of its kind?

Would it even know it's supposed to fly?

Would its stunted wings ache at every missed opportunity to grow?

Would the bird know why it's in pain? Would it even realize its own pain?

When you've been hurting your whole life, constant pain is just normal

And the bird, finally released from its cage, imagine the relief it feels

Finally receiving something it's been missing all its life

And imagine the sense of freedom, the sense of empowerment

The motivation to grow, to spread its wings more and more

To become better

But if the bird was put back in its cage?

And the dull ache changed to a screaming pain

The cage is not smaller

Its life is not made worse than its first time in its prison

But it now understands what it had been missing

The joy it had been neglected

The pain is not worse

The pain is simply more noticeable

The pain of knowing, but not having

[acescreations]

If im captain obvious, shouldn’t it be obvious?

I’m saying to try to connect with something that you know one of you parts like, you can do more than make snarky comments

That might be Dee showing through, but there’s more to you than just that

Anxceit’s glared returned to his face. “If you don’t like how I talk then why are you even talking to me? And who says I even care about him? He obviously doesn’t like me, so why should I even try to like him? And we don’t know anything else that we have in common, so how are we supposed to connect anyway?”

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