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kittycatcorner · 18 days

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shows up to give you the coffinchain challenge

Please be more careful when you cross the road You’re a perfect arrangement of rickety bones

Stray cats.

Peter had always likened the apprentices to a group of stray cats, in his mind.

At first it was out of distaste. They were a nuisance; a band of drifters slinking around the alleyways, catching their quarries unaware. The quick, sharp jab of a hypodermic needle might as well have been the efficient killing bite that a cat might deliver to the throat of its prey. They worked in the shadows, occupying all of those lonely abandoned buildings and reworking them for a new, twisted purpose.

Then, begrudgingly, he’d found himself wrapped up in Mark Hoffman. Chasing him, hunting him, hellbent on bringing him to justice, then on killing him, then on understanding him, then…

Well, Peter didn’t know what he was doing now.

All he knew was that sitting in his apartment, in varying states of composure, were three of Jigsaw’s disciples.

Dr. Gordon sat on his couch, eyes trained down as his hands worked on bandaging a fresh wound on the arm of his younger accomplice. Stanheight sat quietly and allowed for the medical attention with little fight. Hoffman himself sat on the floor, back leaned against the couch close to the other two.

Peter remained standing, trying not to buckle at the absurdity of his situation. In true stray-animal nature, he had made the mistake of allowing Hoffman into his home once, twice, thrice, and now he’d come back with friends.

‘Don’t feed the strays’, indeed.

Accept that he did know the other two, at this point. The polite Dr. Gordon was well-spoken and direct; Peter had found him infuriating in the beginning. He was a hard man to interrogate and an even harder man to intimidate, as level and unflinching as he was. Unlike Peter, he never seemed to let his anger get the best of him, and he seemed to know that. Dr. Gordon was a man who always seemed very aware of how much more control he had in the conversation. It was enviable.

Then there was Adam Faulkner-Stanheight. Mouthful of a name. It was strange enough for Peter to wrap his head around the fact that the kid was alive, let alone working with Jigsaw. He was angry- had more rage in his scrawny little body than what felt possible. Stupid and impulsive, Peter had found him annoying. Just a petulant adolescent who had gotten himself into bigger trouble than he yet realized.

They’ve come a long way since then. Both apprentices had grown on him, maybe because they reminded him of himself in their amalgamate qualities. The cold, callous bluntness of the doctor. The white-hot temper of the kid. The way he had never seen the former so gentle nor the latter so complacent until now, as they patched themselves together on his bloodied furniture.

Peter had been reluctant to welcome them all inside. It was bad enough to shelter one serial killer, but now three? It reminded him that everything he’s been doing as of late is against what he once stood for. Fuck, it would solve a hell of a lot of his own problems if he didn't care. If he’d let them all rot, make them regret thinking that Peter would risk his own hide just because he's been friendly with them. Dr. Gordon and Stanheight had seemed to understand this too. Their expressions had been apprehensive, looking ready to flee like the animals they were. Peter wonders how long ago he would have given chase.

Hoffman had spoken, then.

“I didn’t-” His voice was shot and exhausted. “I didn’t know where else to go, Strahm.”

And just like that, Peter took them in. Those words were all it took. Hoffman limped inside on a bad leg and described some sort of police-raid, premature. John Kramer and Amanda Young hadn’t even been there, so it had just been the trio, and they were forced to flee. Unable to go far on foot in their current state, Hoffman had brought his injured companions here. To Peter.

Why did that make something strange stir within him?

The three of them were soaked to the bone from the rain. Peter watched Hoffman sluggishly attempt to remain alert, but every so often his head would lull and come to rest against the soft thigh of Dr. Gordon. If the doctor noticed it, he didn't say a word as he continued to diligently work. He looked tired. Stanheight was putting on the best brave face he could manage, but Peter’s keen eyes caught his shoulders trembling, only eased when Gordon’s hand came to rest on one and rubbed gently. They all looked so tired.

Unable to watch any longer, Peter finally broke the silence.

“So why are you still doing this?” It took everything in him to not fidget idly as he spoke, brows furrowed at the three men.

All eyes were on him quite suddenly, sharp as they regarded him. Three clever pairs of observant eyes that all screamed out ‘I know more than I’m letting on' to Peter. He held their gazes, muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“You know what I’m talking about.” He scoffed, lip curling. “What’s the point of doing the old man's dirty work when he just lets things like this happen to you?”

Silence.

Hoffman broke first. He laughed, eyes closing as he rested more fully against the couch. It was good-natured but ultimately dismissive.

Dr. Gordon frowned at Peter, one brow quirked as if he had asked them something incredibly naive. Like he expected Peter to know already.

Stanheight didn't react. Not outwardly, anyways. He only stared, something new and strange glittering in his eyes that Peter couldn't place.

“What,” Peter grit his teeth, an edge to his voice. Less of a question and more of a prompt.

“Nothing, nothing. Apologies, Mr. Strahm.” Gordon sighed, turning his attention back to his handiwork. He appeared to nearly be done with the worst of Stanheight’s injuries now. “It’s just… not that simple.”

“Not exactly the kinda job you can put your two weeks in for.” Hoffman corroborated, a smirk tugging at his full lips.

Peter felt his face burn hot, and he huffed in frustration. “You fucking- Don’t play dumb. Don’t act like it’s a stupid question. I’ll throw you back out onto the fucking curb.” He jabbed a finger at Hoffman in particular, who for his part did indeed shut his mouth. “You listening? Good. What I’m saying is that John Kramer is one demented old man. What is actually stopping you?”

This time, the quiet was punctuated by Hoffman and Gordon exchanging an uncomfortable glance. After a moment, Hoffman shrugged and ran one hand through his damp, messy hair. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of, uh, checks ‘n balances.”

Peter raised an eyebrow skeptically. Hoffman continued.

“Information is power, etcetera. Kramer keeps basically everything on a need-to-know basis. Including, I dunno, who you’re workin’ with half the time. Hell,” He rolled his eyes, and lazily raised a hand behind his head to pat Gordon’s arm. The doctor made an annoyed noise in response, shifting away from him. “He only told me about these lovebirds when he needed help lookin’ after ‘em.”

“I’m still mad about missing out on a trip to Mexico.” Stanheight quipped. His voice was softer than normal, but Peter supposed it was a good sign that he was speaking at all. He wasn’t used to the younger man being so quiet.

Gordon straightened up a moment later, gently patting down the new bandages and brushing some of the hair from Stanheight’s face. “There you go.” He sighed. The warmth in his tone was so palpable that Peter had the distinct feeling it wasn’t meant for his ears. Despite being in his own apartment, he somehow felt he was intruding. “Get comfortable, alright?”

Peter watched as Stanheight pulled himself to his feet, stopping short just a little ways away from him with an awkward shuffle. Gordon patted his thigh and spoke his next words like they took all of his energy to say.

“Your turn.” He didn’t even bother to look at Hoffman. The detective grinned anyways, wasting no time in clamoring up into Gordon’s personal space and slinging his leg across the man’s lap. Gordon shook his head disdainfully, but carefully began rolling back Hoffman’s torn pant leg anyways.

Peter guessed he wasn’t the only one that Hoffman lived to irritate.

“Christ, Mark.” Gordon sucked in a sharp breath, and Peter’s shoulders stiffened as he took a step forward to look. His stomach sank despite himself; from where he was standing Hoffman’s calf looked like a bloody mess. Peter’s a man who’s seen more gore in his line of work than anyone should hope to see in their lifetime, and yet here he is, staring in alarm. It was unlike him, and woefully he could only attribute his own uneasiness to the owner of the calf.

As if he could read his mind, Hoffman looked up towards Peter. “Hey, it’s just-” He winced, hissing in pain as Gordon began to clean the wound. “It’s no big deal- no bullet inside. Just grazed me.”

“You were shot?” Peter balked.

“Grazed,” Hoffman corrected.

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in a quick-rising frustration. Hoffman was impossible.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Gordon’s voice was little more than a growl as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You took an unnecessary risk. Do you think I enjoy patching you back together? Honestly, if I didn't know any better I’d assume you were trying to get your sorry self killed.”

Dr. Gordon’s tone left the detective bristling. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” He scoffed. “Hell, I don’t bother you when you’re workin’ in the sickbay. Why don't you just- fuck!”

Hoffman yelped at the unceremonious splash of disinfectant. Gordon gave him the sort of well-practiced fake smile that only a doctor could.

“My bad,” he murmured, unapologetic.

Peter decided he’d seen enough. He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, telling himself that he was just stepping aside to get ice in case the doctor needed some. He knew it wasn't the truth, though; he scolded himself quietly as he leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his graying hair.

The truth was that he couldn't keep standing there, staring at Hoffman’s leg injury.

It’s ironic, because it feels like not too long ago that Peter would have done anything to put a bullet in Hoffman. Now the thought makes him feel… queasy. And a bit confused.

Peter found himself comparing the apprentices to strays again.

He couldn’t get the image of roadkill splattered on the side of the highway out of his head.

From what he knew of John Kramer and his cult, the apprentices were expendable parts. It doesn't even sound like they can trust each other half the time. One wrong move or fatal mistake would be all it took. Peter wasn't even sure how long it would take him to know something had happened.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps so quiet that he knew exactly who they belonged to before turning around. Stanheight stood at the entryway of his bare-bones kitchen, watching him. He’s probably spent the least amount of time alone with him.

“What is it?” Peter’s frown deepened.

The kid didn't answer immediately, instead coming to lean against the wall beside him. He was quiet for a moment, and then shrugged.

“Wanted to check on you, I guess.” He answered simply.

“Check on me? In what way do I need checking on?” Raising a brow, Peter gestured towards the living room. “Look at you three, for fuck’s sake.”

Stanheight held his hands up defensively. “Hey, hey, I just- I get it, alright?”

Peter didn't know what that meant. He stared down at the shorter man, scowl ever-present, silently prodding him to elaborate. Stanheight’s expression was… almost sympathetic, but his eyes had that same strange look from before: the one that Peter couldn't place.

The kid was easy to underestimate, Peter knew it from his file and from his current involvement. He wasn't about to make that mistake with him.

“Sucks, doesn't it?” Stanheight finally said. He was muttering now, glancing once over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone. “One thing to know what they're doing and another to see them come back with blood and bits of their skin hanging off.”

Peter felt his stomach turn. “No,” he lied. “If Hoffman’s gonna be reckless and get himself killed then so be it.”

“No matter what you or anyone else thinks, I’m not stupid.” Stanheight laughed dryly. “You don't gotta lie to me, okay? I’m on team Peter here.”

“Are we forgetting that you’re one of ‘them’ too?” Peter steeled his gaze, unamused.

Stanheight grimaced. “I mean- kind of. Not really.”

“‘Not really?’ What’s that mean?”

“I- like- like I’m with them but I’m not one of them. Old Johnny-boy has never and will never give a shit about me. Not exactly in the running to be his heir or whatever the others think will happen.” Stanheight huffed, rolling his eyes as he explained. “Pretty sure he wouldn't even notice if I went missing if it weren't for the pictures ‘n schedules I go and get for him.”

Peter is quiet for a moment.

“Why stick around?” He asked softly, already knowing the answer.

The kid just snorted in lieu of answering, and the two fell into silence once more for a couple of seconds.

“Glad that Mark has you.” Stanheight suddenly murmured, thoughtful.

“He does not ‘have me’.”

“Maybe you can knock some sense into him.”

Peter scoffed, looking elsewhere. “You’re frustrating, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Stanheight laughed, “I’m not kidding, though. It always freaks me out how Mark gets when he’s like…”

Raising a brow, Peter waited for him to sort out his thoughts.

“Like, when he gets hurt, right? He just- just runs off. Or he’ll go and get hammered on the other side of town and when we find him he’s a mess.”

At that, Peter’s shoulders went rigid. He was aware of Mark’s habits, his unhealthy coping mechanism. He hadn't thought about who else might know, how deeply it might run. He hadn't thought about how often Mark must be alone.

When he looked back at Stanheight, he realized the kid was staring at him intently. There was concern in his expression, but also something fierce.

“John’s really messed him up. Worse than he was before all of this.” His voice was low, almost cautious. “All of them. Lawrence, Mark, Mandy, none of them deserve this. You know that, right?”

Peter’s mouth felt dry. “I…”

Straightening up again, Stanheight stepped closer to Peter. Before he could see it coming, a smaller hand took his own and held it, inspecting it. “I think Mark needs you.” He said, “maybe all of us do. So you gotta take care of yourself too.”

Something confused seemed to bloom in his chest then, an uncertain warmth that he could feel rise up to his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he couldn't decide on anything to say.

“Just think about it, ‘kay?” Stanheight let go of his hand again and started to leave the kitchen, pausing for just a moment to look back at him. “Oh, one more thing.”

“What is it?” Peter’s voice was hoarse.

Stanheight gave him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. “Welcome to the family.”

Then he was gone, Peter’s protest to that statement dying on his lips, and Peter was left to think on everything he said.

Hoffman needing him. Hoffman hiding himself away in dark corners to nurse his wounds. Improperly set bones and too much bandage.

Stray cats.

Peter’s family used to have cats. His sister’s cat had been an old, white, raggedy thing that she named Alfredo. When Alfredo passed away, he had hidden under the bed and refused to come out. Peter thinks he remembers reading somewhere that pets do that on purpose, so their humans don't have to see them die, but it's been years and his animal knowledge is limited.

Peter wondered how hard it is to socialize a stray cat. To reintroduce it to domesticity.

He stepped out of the kitchen, lingering at the entryway, and watched the apprentices from where he stood. Gordon seemed to have finished with Hoffman’s leg, speaking to him in a quieter tone than before. To his surprise, Hoffman looked like he was listening. Stanheight was on the couch with them now, leaning his head onto Gordon’s shoulder.

Peter found that he wished he could freeze this moment with the three of them in it. The bubble of safety that was his living room felt far away from everything Jigsaw. Maybe they were always meant to be here, on soft furniture, and not crouching amongst rusted pipes and jagged metal.

Tamed. Domesticated.

He sighed through his nose and walked around the couch, three sets of clever eyes on him again as he caught their attention. Now that he was there, he could see that Dr. Gordon had just begun to wrap up Hoffman’s leg and he silently motioned to ask for the gauze, kneeling down between them.

Understanding the gesture, Gordon handed it over, smiling at Peter warmly enough to raise his body temperature by a degree.

“Strahm-” Hoffman started, bewildered, but Peter simply began wrapping his leg neatly.

“Shut up.” He grunted. “Let me help you, stupid.”

#saw #coffinchain #chainshipping #hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #hoffstrahmdonheight #asks #jennilah #I LOVE YOU JENNA I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #these are supposed to be short fics . uhhhhhhhh #i prommy i'll get better at this whole ficlet thing #anyways god i hope any of you like this bc i already hate it LMAOOO it's mostly dialogue and idk if it's anything #oh well #sometimes you write 3k words and then just go 'this sucks' and post it anyways #could've been softer given the song i rolled BUT i wanted to ease y'all in since this is technically my first posted coffinchain fic #pls tell me if you do like it ;w; and also don't be afraid to keep sending ships/characters bc i'm still up for this song lyric prompt #writing #fanfic #peter strahm #mark hoffman #adam faulkner stanheight #lawrence gordon #ughgg i love them. i really love them i wish i could do them more justice than this

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deoidesign · 2 months

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Allowing myself to work on this comic. A LITTLE. Please....... I'm making comics all day every day please let me chase my bliss a little........... With a different comic...........

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 years

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She can't keep getting away with this!

[First] Prev <--> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #MDZS #season 1 #wei wuxian #lan jingyi #lan sizhui #little apple #I think little apple deserves to cause more mayhem. As a treat #I love how despite her hating wwx they both have the same 'burn all bridges' mentality in gusu lan #little apple would have been able to escape gusu lan if she had thumbs. What the hell is *your* excuse wwx? Huh?#MXY's asscheeks too dummy thick and it keeps alerting hanguan-jun? Sounds like a skill issue #I was too ambitious with wanting to have this scene be on fire. Its a better version of #the fourth comic but still...i have much to learn about the ways of drawing fire #much to learn about drawing in general actually B*( but I'm getting there!#i hope you guys enjoy the preview of wwx showing a little more skin. We still have eons to go until we’re at the dilf era outfit #but its on the roadmap #EDIT: HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMENS DAY!!!

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shower-phantom-ideas · 1 year

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You guys just don’t understand

You can’t even begin to grasp the amount of pranks Danny could pull on super heros (is that one words? Superheros?)

Added a read more because I hate long posts

Danny as a ghost is so powerful. Like our boy can walk through walls, disappear, and fly! Do you even grasp how much more unique he is than the others guys??

Jokes aside just imagine if you will. Danny could leave batburger cups next to Batman all the time (he comes back later to toss em out of Big ol B doesn’t)

Like hell we talk about Danny just showing up basically stalking the heros but ok hear me out. He didn’t mean to figure out Batmans identity ok but he was in the right place at the right time and over heard some stuff. Now he follows Bruce Wayne around instead. Always spitting out if a batburger cup. Maybe Bruce makes eye contact with him and one time Danny just leans his drink out to as one does to offer a sip xD the man is horrified.

For the ?Robins? The other bats maybe he leaves gifts of sorts. Stuff they would like made from his ice or something. He can understand becoming a hero young and most (if not all) of them did that. He plays favourites with the younger Heros for sure. But hes still making them have there “God?? Is that you” moments like everyone else.

Hell he could follow Superman around and always make his cape flow against the wind and the Hero wouldn’t know wtf is going on. Maybe Superman hears a very slight snickering maybe but the prank is harmless enough so why worry too much. I mean it’s probably bad someone can do this without getting detected till they give themselves away by laughing but nothing harmful yet. (Yet would emphasise Batman)

I don’t know anything about GreenArrow but I assume he uses a bow and arrow so I could imagine Danny grabbing his arrows and making them fly in crazy wild paths before hitting their mark.

Idk honestly how he would fuck with GreenLatern besides like using his ghost powers to try and one up his ring. Like Lantern makes a shield? Danny makes a better one next to it or in front of it. Tbh it’s actually helping Danny get better at his powers so he does this a lot rip Hal (I did not know he was played by Ryan Reynolds maybe ill watch the newer movie)

He refuses to mess with Wonder Woman because the Phandom has told me she is his fav thus he refuses to prank her. He respects her too much and is a huge enough fan that hes too nervous to even approach. Thus she thinks she is this pranksters least favourite since she is never bothered.

Aqua-man (thx for the correction siri) is pretty fun to prank because Danny can follow the man underwater. Idk anything about science of it but imagine Danny like making a space he can talk in with his ice powers (making a bubble of sorts) to make spooky noises at ?Arthur? (R we seriously going with Arthur in this one?) like I assume without actual fish related powers, or with them I havent seen any thing aquaman, you can’t talk underwater. But also if Danny figures out his real name hes 100% gonna be playing the Hey Arthur theme at this man all the time.

He just lowkey overshadows cyborg. Not in a controlling way but just along for the ride kinda way. He was gonna make remarks about his tech but ended up being stunned by how good it is. “Fam I aint gonna lie. I came here to follow you around and make comments like a streamer but your tech is crazy cool. I mean you could have saved a little room with a more compact cooling unit but I mean this is probably some of the best stuff I have seen outside my family!” Or something idk. Maybe he goes full on antman in coldwar

As for the Flash thats pretty simple. He doesn’t let the Flash run from him. I don’t think Danny could keep up with the Flash at all. Like man cants have everyones powers (can’t he tho) but he just hangs on and pretends to have followed. I mean hes invisible the whole time so not like anyone can see lmao though if (idk who the flash is? So ill use Barry cause thats why google say) if Barry goes too fast he might get Danny to give up the game cause boy is on the side vomiting. Barry is pretty smug about probably being the first to throw the prankster for a loop but Danny is just on the side like “how can you go that fast and not be sick dude”

Like tbh I was gonna just make a list of pranks he pulls on Batman but yall seem to enjoy the Justice League so here go off I guess.

Honestly I had to charge my phone so I forget a lot of the post rip this kne

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #why is this happening you ask?#well Amity Park got destroyed by GIW and Danny can’t go back to the Zone because Vlad destroyed his whole place and moved to avoid the GIW #so Danny is doing anything to keep his mind off it #not the healthiest of mechanisms but hes like 14 or 16 so whats he know #jazz would know but shes dead (I hate killing off jazz tbh)#following around these Heros is all he has to do to keep himself distracted #plus it helps feel his protective obbsession because he can help a little here and there #I know I make the danny follows the heros around posts a lot but theres a reason for it #danny feels like such a failure so he wants to learn from them #he needs to learn from them #he has to do better he has to get better so he wont loose everything again #oop hope yall don’t read my tags it’s a mess in here

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qiekzart · 7 months

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look at my bad art👍

[plz reblog]

#took me like 2 days (?)#ill keep this style if this post gets enough notes i guess #the last one wasnt good enough so its going away anwyay #art #my art #plz reblog #yugioh #ygo #yugioh dm #yugioh duel monsters #yami marik #yami malik #digital painting more like digital pain am i right guys #GUYS. guys can i hbe honest. i fukcking hate this art. so much ist so genuinely bad i hate it. i hate this art so much. i hate it #i hope ssomeone lieks it tho...#yugioh fanart #i wish i could get better at art for you....

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elllteo · 7 months

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Creators I love you but it's time to wake up

Among rumors about our tumblr user data being sold off to Midjourney/Generative AI, recent Extremely transphobic events (that have been ongoing) coming to a head, another extremely concerning internet censorship bill being pushed in upper levels of government, and a general air of frustration over how the site belongs to and is operated by perhaps the second stupidest CEO (second only to twitters own) of our age, I'm very done with the last few vestiges of what the old internet held for artists.

And if you're reading this, you probably are too.

I know we're tired. We are all tired. It is not always viable to pack up shop and move, again and again and again.

From tumblr to twitter to anywhere else we've ever grown up posting, things no longer work. Our audiences are kneecapped by aggressive and hostile algorithms, our reach is abysmal - if we aren't shadow-banned or silenced for one (transphobic) reason or another, we're thrust into an ever growing pit of hostility where the only thing that drives clicks is fighting and contention.

We're tired. We're so fucking tired. We aren't businesses, we aren't content mills, we cannot keep this pace that modern social media has set for us, to wring every ounce of creativity out of us to profit from and leave us rotting.

The key to staying afloat here, and I cannot stress this enough, is to stay connected to your peers.

Pack up and move as units if you must. Exodus from the sites that are killing us. Push your entire friend group of artists to move from one site to the next that promises you a kinder experience.

Art drives movements, it drives change, it is all that encompasses being human. If you take that away from the shitty places, they will be left with nothing but a cesspit of inhumanity and the people who follow you will be more incentivized than ever to move with you.

Yes, this is terrifying. There are no guarantees. There never was, and never are, and never will be.

But stay connected. Stay human.

Support each other and be willing to hold hands and jump when we all - as a group - need to jump from the flames we're all trying to convince ourselves wont kill us before rescue comes.

Rescue isn't coming, rescue will be found hand in hand with each other. I'm offering you my hand, please take it. There's always a new start, there are always helping hands reaching for you. You have to look up from the doom-scroll long enough to see and take them.

#art communities #art community #teo talks #sorry I have a Lot of opinions about posting art online I've been doing this since I was 14 and I'm 28 this year #I have watched the rise and fall of social media titans and you have to understand the ONLY thing that will keep you afloat #is keeping connected to your peers #we have to move as units and we have to stay together and we have to support each other #your following is not stability. your friendships are.#thats why you hear about networking. thats ceo talk for friendships. connections.#you have to have enough connections to build your own support web on the chance that everything goes to shit. yes its hard work. it sucks.#but it is a necessity. twitter isn't getting better. its not going back to how it was. neither is DA or tumblr. its not happening.#If you put all your eggs in one or two precarious baskets and both fall. you will be shit out of luck! thats reality #there is hope to be found but you have to be realistic and understand that you NEED to build up a presence elsewhere. even if its hard.#I want to help you if I can!!!! bluesky is a really solid twitter alternative!!!#ive heard good things about cohost as a tumblr alternative!!!!#sheezy and inkblot are both indie sites currently being developed by and for other creatives. support them!#they won't be perfect until - and UNLESS - you do!#anyways sorry I will step off my soapbox now Im just frustrated with the state of everything

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