#and like MAN I was really the prototype art kid in this family!! sure I can draw kind of good sometimes but this dude has IDEAS

[blujayonthewing]

I never tell people 'wow, you're so creative!' because that feels like a patronizing twee compliment somehow I guess? but as an artist (more or less) who is NOT very creative at all I think it all the time with complete sincerity and admiration

[remmushound]

Bay/rise 46!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sprinklestheditty @sententiously-sarcastic

Content warning! Mentions of death and suicide

Shredder was fighting with everything he had to free himself. He thrashed around, spinning as much as the tight containment would allow. If anything, he looked like a housecat in a carrier on its way to the vet. The families from both worlds gathered around the containment, much to Shredder’s furious frustration as he tried to slash himself free, but the containment held firm.

“Release me at once!” He snarled, pressing his muzzle to the clear door that didn't quite look to be glass; it had a more pinkish tint, like everything else in this place did.

Mikey and Raph looked at each other, and then looked at Shredder. “NAW!”

“April!” Leo ran to O’neil’s side as she finally removed her disguise, then looked beside her with a more confused look when he saw Casey. “Casey? How are you here— how are you breathing?”

O’neil opened her mouth to show what looked like gum on her tongue. “The other Donnie made these.”

All eyes fell wide on Donatello.

“What? I had a few hours while Leo was coming up with a plan.” Donnie shrugged, “They’re just prototypes. You can keep the rest if you want— I got a dozen more of the things.”

“But how did you—?”

“It’s easy! You mentioned that they shouldn’t be able to breath in here and i figured it was because of the weird properties of the air, but clearly we could breathe here, and so could my April so I took swabs of all of our mouths and then I took a swab of their mouths, compared the differences, and isolated the isotopic signatures that they didn't have and applied that knowledge into creating a gelatin-based supplement, and I gave their bodies a few hours to process the change, and then tested it by putting them near Leo’s rift where the atmosphere’s of both places merged and they were doing just fine so I deduced that my genius worked and we followed through with the plan. Any questions?”

“Several.” Mikey raised his hand.

“Write em down when we get home and I’ll answer them then.”

“Hey— you ain’t got yo uh… shell thing on.” Raph commented when he came behind Donatello.

“Yes— it didn't work with the plan. I needed to make him think I was Leo. Colored lenses, man I tell ya, they’ll change the world! My battle shell’s back home so I’d really like to get back there like ASAP because I am feeling highly anxious right now.”

“For a second there I didn't even think your plan would work.” Leo laughed weakly and shook his head, “Good idea using Draxum!”

Leonardo didn't answer.

“Leo? Donatello asked.

Leonardo walked closer to the containment cell and placed his hand on it, staring in at the tortured figure of his brother. The creature was Shredder in both mind and body, no doubt about that. The armor, the metal ribs, those sickle claws were all Shredder! But the plastron, and those baby blues eyes belonged to Raphael and to see them on someone else— something else— made Leonardo incredibly sad. He wondered if Raphael could still hear him…? Maybe not. But Shredder certainly could, right?

“Can you hear me?” Leonardo whispered to the tank; his eyes locked onto the blue ones just beyond the barrier.

Shredder gave a low rumble and lowered his head to meet Leonardo’s gaze.

“You can, can’t you? I know your name…”

“I am the Shredder…” Shredder rasped quietly.

“No you’re aren’t. The armor is Shredder. I don’t know if you’re him anymore since you swallowed my brother, but you used to be Oroku Saki.”

Shredder visibly flinched at the name, snarling and pulling his head back into his armor as far as it could go. “Don’t say that name…”

“Why? It is your name, isn’t it?” Leonardo asked, “I know it because Draxum told me. He was just a kid back then, but he knows the stories. The stories of the great and noble Oroku saki.”

“What is he doing?” Leo almost snarled, but Draxum held out a hand for silence.

Draxum watched with the utmost curiosity, his eyes shimmering like rubies as he observed Shredder's reaction to every word being said.

“You led the Foot Clan over five hundred years ago, right? Your clan lived in peace, and you learned from the kappa. They taught you ninjitsu and you brought it back to your Clan, didn't you…?”

Shredder gave the lowest grunt. “I remember. I met them when I was young boy playing by the river. I gave them an offering of cucumbers, and as a thanks they gave me my first lesson.”

“I knew you remembered.” Leonardo said, his heart sparking at the implications of what it could mean, “I knew it! Your clan was so… honorable until a great evil came to your land, and you couldn’t fight it off. Do you remember what the evil was…?”

Shredder gave an evil roar and tried to charge the door, though he couldn’t get much of a running start to do any damage. Leonardo held his hands up in peaceful surrender.

“Don’t wanna talk about it! Completely understand!”

Shredder settled back down quickly.

“You must be in so much pain.” Leonardo shook his head slowly as he touched the glass. “Saki… all you wanted to do was protect your clan, and now you’ve had to fight this dark armor for… for years. You… you’re so tired and— and you can’t fight anymore and that's okay! You’ve been fighting for five hundred years…”

Shredder brought the nose of his armor to touch where Leonardo’s hand was, his eyes still watching Leonardo in a quiet observance.

“You don’t have to fight anymore— at least not alone! But Raph… if you can hear me, I need you to fight harder than you ever have. Please… if you d… don’t… then I’ll have to destroy you and I don’t think I can…”

Leonardo rested his head against the door, the coldness of the chamber like sweet relief from the heat of his body.

“I know it's still you in there. I can see your eyes! And I need you to fight this, because if you don't then you’ll destroy me because I can’t destroy you. And then Mikey and Donnie, our baby brothers… they’re gonna have to watch both of us die. Heh…” Leonardo laughed weakly as he wiped his eyes, a wavering smile trying to take hold of his face. “You hear what I said? Baby brothers. Donnie’s older than me, I know, but… it just felt right. Silly Leo huh?”

Shredder didn't answer.

“And not just them. Our father… our sister… our new friends. They’re gonna have to watch it happen. They’re gonna have to watch us die… so I need you to fight this. Please.”

Shredder stared, his eyes like icicles piercing through Leonardo like knives. Still he said nothing. He didn't move, hardly breathed. He just stared.

“Raph…” Michelangelo’s weak voice rasped suddenly, and Shredder snapped his attention to look at the approaching box turtle. Michelangelo was fiddling with his hands in front of him, his head low and eyes wide and sad. “Hi. It’s Mikey. Can you hear me?” He touched the door just as Leonardo was. “I really really want you back. I miss you.”

Shredder stared intently at Michelangelo. Michelangelo looked to Leonardo with a soft whimper, but Leonardo waved him on gently.

“D… do you remember when we ordered that Lou Jitsu video game and… and I really wanted to pick it up all on my own? You were so scared that I would get hurt, because I’m… little and stuff. I’m your baby brother! But even though you were scared, you still eventually let me go? And… when I did get in trouble like you said I would, you didn't yell or shout at me or anything. You just… gave me a hug and helped me! You didn't try to say you told me so even though you did tell me so. Do you remember that?”

Shredder gave a low rumble.

“Raph…” Donatello’s voice came this time, just as straightforward as ever but with a new, gentler tone to it if that were possible. “Do you uh… remember Mrs.Cuddles?”

Shredder gave a sharp growl and pulled back.

“Take that as a yes.” Donatello cleared his throat, “You know how it was my dumb idea for April to bring the doll over in the first place? Just to scare you like a jerk of a little brother?”

Shredder leaned closer once more.

“You… forgave all of us for it… even though it was our fault that the thing nearly killed our family and all of New York? That was pretty cool of you.”

“Red Rover?” This time it was April’s turn to approach, “You’ve always been a good big brother! I remember back when y'all were still eating dumpster scraps and I’d bring y'all snacks any time I could swing it with my parents. And every time, no matter how many snacks I brought, I never seen you eat one cause you were always too concerned with making sure your brothers got something that wasn’t gutter trash.”

Draxum stepped up. “When Michelangelo er… was helping me to change my ways… you hated me. Absolutely despised me, for good reason. I had done terrible things up until that point. Yet… when your brother orange begged you to give me a chance, you did. You didn't trust me, but you trusted him, and you gave me a chance. I thank you now…”

“And when Draxum threw me off a building and I could’ve gotten really hurt you… you dove right down after me. No hesitation, no panic. Just straight down after me and… and you caught me. I was being so obnoxious that day too.”

“My son… My Raphael…” Yoshi was the last to step up, his ears pressed back against his head as he smiled at the Shredder’s eyes. “I remember when you were small enough to fit in my hands. Oh, you were such a fussy baby! I would always sing you and your brothers the same lullaby my grandfather sung to me. You remember how it goes?”

Shredder didn't respond.

“I would hate babysitting beyond the Bon Festival. The snow begins to fall and the baby cries…”

The pupils of Shredder’s eyes dilated, filling almost the entirety of the dark space.

“How can I be happy even when Bon Festival is here…? Unwillingly babysitting thinking of days after mid-summer Bon holiday. The flurry of cold snow continues… and a baby repeating cries. Even come Bon holiday, what is so joyful, no clothes and no sash for attire. The baby is so irritable to cry. That baby’s crying annoys me. Babysitting for a whole day, or even more. Every day I grow thinner. Wishing to get back home in a hurry across the border. That’s my parents' home…” Yoshi gave the softest laugh as he finished the lullaby and wiped his eyes clear of tears. “Oh, how you all loved that song. I… was in a dark place back then— so resentful of where my life was. But you boys helped me more than I could ever thank you for. If there hadn’t have been the need to take care of you, then I… wouldn’t be here today. I would have… done something cowardly. But I’m so glad I didn't. So please, my son… Raphael… let me help you.”

[characterclasses]

Classing Avatar: The Last Airbender

Long ago, all four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Roll for initiative! 

Avatar: TLA is a world populated with rich, developed characters. So much so, in fact, that I’ve actually decided to class ten characters from the series. So flameo hotman, this is going to be a long one!

1. Aang

Let’s start with an easy one. Aang is so obviously a Way of the Four Elements Monk that it hurts. The kid grew up in a monastery, calls himself a monk numerous times, and the whole plot of the show revolves around him learning how to master the four elements. In fact, given how ubiquitous bending is in the show, it’s amazing that more characters aren’t monks as well. 

2. Sokka

Well, not Sokka, the meat-and-sarcasm guy. Sokka may not be a bender, but that’s never stopped him from stepping up and trying his best to protect what he loves, whether that be by defending his village from a Fire Nation raid with just a boomerang, or leading entire armies into battles that he strategized. Sokka might look like the token normal guy, but he’s a versatile and powerful warrior, which is why I’ve classed him as a fighter. Sokka isn’t just brawn though, he’s brains too. The guy is very intelligent (though somewhat low in wisdom, at least at first), and thirsts for new knowledge and scientific discoveries. Sokka is a Battle Master, someone who is learned not just in ancient battle arts, but academic fields as well, sometimes even obtaining artisan knowledge. Seems pretty fitting for the guy who helped invent the hot air balloon, no?

3. Katara

Katara may be a bender, but she’s not exactly a monk. Katara is a pretty spiritual person, especially after directly coming into contact with Tui and La (and Yue) in the first season. She’s also a powerful and dangerous combatant to go up against. This, along with the fact that she’s the healer of the Gaang, is why I classed Katara a cleric. Her mastery over waterbending makes her a Tempest cleric, as she reveres spirits of the sea and sky. Katara, even more than characters like Aang or Azula, is able to best embody the ferocity of a storm.

4. Azula

Speaking of Azula, this tragic, fourteen-year-old sociopath is an interesting character to class. Azula has power, and a lot of it. As a firebending prodigy, Azula’s devastating power comes naturally to her, which is why she can be best classed as a sorcerer. Her royal Fire Nation lineage makes Azula a shoo-in for the Draconic Bloodline background, too, which adds an extra layer of irony to the whole thing when you consider exactly what it was that her family did to the dragons, who they perceived as threats to their bending supremacy.   

5. Zuko

Of course, Azula isn’t the only heir to the Fire Nation, which is where her older brother Zuko comes in. Zuko is the perfect example of a redemption arc done right, so it’s no surprise that his character needs a bit more of a complicated classing to match his nuanced characterization. Like his sister, Zuko started out as a Draconic Bloodline sorcerer (in fact, it’s heavily implied that he wouldn’t have lived if he hadn't been one). But Zuko doesn’t have the innate raw power that Azula does, and to his father’s great disappointment, didn’t seem to level up nearly as quickly. After his exile, Zuko found himself with both the time and the necessity to hone his other great skill - his swords. It was at this point that Zuko began multiclassing into a rogue, specifically a Swashbuckler. This usually bombastic class may seem like an odd choice for the awkward, angry prince, but Zuko’s talents with his twin swords and his flair for the dramatic (think of the Blue Spirit persona!) actually makes Swashbuckler a pretty good fit. After his defeat at the North Pole necessitated going into hiding, Zuko began relying less and less on his firebending and more on his rogue skills to get by. It isn’t really until the middle of the third season, when he and Aang meet and learn from the dragons, that Zuko finally starts taking levels in sorcerer once again, and he grows into a bender who is more than capable of matching up with his sister. 

6. Mai

It’s no surprise that taciturn, deadly Mai is also a rogue, though not the kind that you might think. Mai is not, contrary to Azula’s beliefs, the perfect Assassin. Mai might be great with her throwing knives, but she also excels in blending quietly into the background, gaining all the information she needs until it’s time to strike, whether that be with her blades or with a well-placed word. She’s also not above seeing which way the wind is blowing and switching sides to protect herself and the people she cares about. Mai is a Mastermind to be sure, and while she’s a great ally to have, this makes her an even more formidable enemy to face. 

7. Ty Lee

Ty Lee however, is surprisingly not a rogue. This bubbly, acrobatic Fire Nation girl is a sneaky, underestimated fighter, but she’s also a childhood friend of a princess that an away to join a circus, of all things. Ty Lee’s style of combat is rooted in performance, and her performance is her combat, which is why I’ve classed her as a College of Swords Bard. College of Swords works well for Ty Lee precisely because she isn’t a bender and doesn’t use magic to achieve her results. Despite not actually using swords, Ty Lee certainly meets the criteria in terms of being a born entertainer who achieves her results both on stage and in the battlefield through daring feats of prowess and skill. 

8. Suki 

Ty Lee may have ended the series as a Kyoshi Warrior, but Suki was born one, and it shows. Everything Suki does is to protect her people and uphold the ideals of Avatar Kyoshi. This devotion to Kyoshi, both the island and the historical, near-mythic figure, makes Suki an excellent paladin. With her Oath of Devotion, Suki is determined to uphold the ideals of law, justice, and order that the history and culture of her people represent, and spirits help anyone who stands in her way. 

9. Toph

So Toph is a tough character to class, which I’m sure is something that would delight her to no end. At the end of the day though, Toph’s gleeful chaotic nature and unconventional bending make her a very unusual warlock. Like all benders, Toph’s power may be innate, but the Blind Bandit took a very unusual route to hone her skills. Toph learned bending directly from the badgermoles, the first earthbender in millennia to do so. The badgermoles gifted Toph not just with bending mastery, but with a form of “sight” with which she could independently navigate the world around her, and in this way act as her patrons. As creatures of legend that hold secrets long forgotten by mankind, the badgermoles act as a sort of benevolent Archfey equivalent, making Toph a very powerful warlock indeed.   

10. Iroh 

If Aang and his friends are the prototypical young protagonists out to save the world, then Iroh is the beloved archetype of the war-weary old adventurer who still has some tricks up his sleeves. Like Aang, Iroh is a monk, albeit a very different kind. While Iroh has a ton of raw power, he prefers to be subtle, letting enemies and allies alike underestimate him until it’s time to act. Even when he does strike, his foes don’t quite seem to grasp the full implication of what’s happening. Carefully choosing his actions like movements on a Pai Sho board, Iroh is a true White Lotus, a perfect example of The Way of the Drunken Master. He uses his facade of a tea-obsessed, doddering old man to feign incompetence and play the part of the fool in order to achieve his true goals, whether that be directing his young nephew towards the right path in life, or secretly working to bring balance back to the world. 

[popculturebuffet]

Donald Duck Birthday Special!: 12 Donald Shorts!

Happy Birthday to my faviorite duck! As you can probably guess from my previous Ducktales reviews Donald Duck is my faviorite of the classic disney gang. As an angry but well meaning, sometimes lazy sometimes hardoworing and always out of his depth guy really spoke to me for obvious reasons and my love of him made me check out life and times and well you know the rest.  But weirdly, until last month i’d hardly seen any of his theatrical shorts. I grew up as a “Tom and Jerry” and “Looney Tunes” kid, and with Disney never playing them on disney channel for whatever reason (even with the ones they really CAN’T play there’s dozens they sure as hell can), I just never had any real intrest. But then Louie’s Eleven happened , I was starved for Donsy content and thus rewatched Mr.Duck Steps out, and most of her filmography, skipping the ones where she’s the miserable wife from every sitcom... more on that later, and with one exception. So I wanted to review them.. but quickly reailzed that with 6 minutes for most shorts there’s not a ton to dig into, so I decided after finding out his birthday was next month to take a handful and pile them in here, review them and see what makes my boy so great, what dosen’t, and look at the good the bad and the holy shit did he just point a shot gun at that poor defensless animal of Donald Fauntleroy Duck. We get this party started under the cut. 

For funsies since, unlike most things I cover, every episode has a gif on here i’m going to use the gif keyboard to look up an image for the cartoon.. and if not well.. whatever’s there will have to do. 

1. The Wise Little Hen (1934) A charming little short that I rewatched today to get on the docket, and i’m glad I did. The plot is very simple: A Hen and her 8 chicks are planting, then harvesting corn. For each task they ask Peter Pig, Local dick and the Rusty Spokes of 1934, and Donald Duck, our boy looking very diffrent, for help. Peter just says who me then runs off while Donald fakes a bellyache. Both get their compuance when the Hen and her 8 chicks make a ton of goodies from the corn and decide to eat it all themselves, while donald and peter give themselves an ass kicking. 

I genuinely wish this is how life worked: Your bad, take advantage of people and your reward is not taking their beinfits and snickering but having to kick each other in the tuckuss on loop.. you know instead of the Peter Pigs of the world blaming people for getting maced in the face by stormtroopers. Sigh.  That aside it’s just a fun, charming short with great animation, and a great look for Donald. I do genuinely love his first look, even if it’d later be eased down to perfection. And there’s plenty of fun gags and great music. Overal a solid A short.  

2. Moving Day (1936) As you can see from the GIF this one isn’t strictly donald, we’re still one away from a starring role. After annoying the shit out of Mickey in the classic’s “The Orphans Benefit” and “The Band Concert” , Donald soon became his regular sidekick alongside Goofy. Both would quickly breakout and this short is apparent why as Mickey is a side character in his own labeled short.  The setup is somehow, after 84 years, STILL relevant to modern day. Basically Mickey and Donald are tennants who haven’t for whatever reason, paid their rent and are 6 months behind. And sure they could just be obnoxious squatters doing it onlyf or their art who shriek like banshees the moment their asked to actually pay rent, but thankfully this isn’t RENT, or else I would’ve jumped out of a window by now. No given this is the depression, their likely trying to hold onto their house and meager posessions for as long as they can while work is incredibly scarce... not like.. now.. ha .. ha. ha.... I may take the window up on it’s offer after all.  Anyways, our valiant heroes decide to try and cram everything they can into their friend Goofy’s milk truck while Pete’s busy putting up signs to advertise him trying to sell their shit to make up his back rent. WHich translates to a bit of mickey doing that and most of the short being spent with donald fighting a rug and Goofy being outsmarted by a piano. Both are utterly hilarious and prove why these two became far more popular, and overall the short’s a damn good timea nd our heroes win by still getting a pile of possesions out while their antics destroy the rest so pete gets nothing! Horay! They can sleep at goofy’s place! Now moving on from crushing reality, it’s animal cruelty! 

3. Don Donald (1937) I wasn’t kidding. Yeahhh this was donald’s first full, not attached to Pluto for some reason or an adorable chicken family or his mousy overlord short. Don Donald. Donald’s in mexico, for some reason and wooing a lady, in this case Daisy prototype, Donna Duck as seen in the header image. I like her, they have a diffrent dynamic, both being kind of tempramental and flirty instead of that being just ONE of donald and daisy’s dynamics. Others being muttually supportive and adorable (Ducktales and Quack Pack) or daisy being the wife from according to jim, or last man standing, or my wife and kids, or king of queens, or the george lopez show, or everybody loves raymond, or ... you know what i’m depressed enough from the last two shorts you get it. But you know without Donald being an obnoxious asshole who views every guy his daughter dates like a horny degernate who just wants to get in there and overreacts to everything involving them and makes me pray for death but death wont come.... I may not like classic daisy very much. Moving on.  That being said as you can tell from the donkey abuse donald.. ihs a fucking asshole in this one.. and not the loveable asshole he is in the band concert mind you I mean he’s less brent sienna and more tucker carleson. He laughs at his girlfriends misforutunes and hit shis burro and then tries to trade it in for a car.. which he does. He gets his commupance and all but yeah.. it’s deeply uncomfortable to watch him abuse this animal for half the runtime. Trading it in is one thing, but he’s still an utter dick to it.A short that COULD’VE been fun that instead is just uncomfortable, even given the time it takes place in. 

4. Donald’s Ostrich (1937) Donald works at a distant train station taking care of various cargo that comes in and ends up having to care for an adorable ostrich named hortense. Hyjinks, especially once she swallows Donald’s Radio, insue. This short.. is a MASSIVE step up from don donald. INstead of uncomfortable animal abuse donald just gets frustrated with an ostrich and battered round a bit, and tries to cure her hiccups. My faviorite bit is when hortense arrive, and stands up with a box on her,a nd donald goes under her gives a greatly delivered by Clarence Nash “what’s going on around here” before hortense sits on him. Really funny. And yes Hortsense is a regular ostrich. And yes that paradox has been around this long. But this one’s way funnier, way more charming and really damn adorable and dosen’t remind me of the crushing horrors of real life so yeah. A+. There’s only one short I like as much and it’s coming up. 

5. Modern Inventions (1937) Another one from his first year and another classic. Basically donald deals with various inventions in a “house of the future” type attractions, gets ruffled by them and the robot butler seen above steals his hat with a dry brtiish “your hat sir” while donald adorably pulls one out of thin air in increasingly creative ways. Again plotwise these shorts are simple but by now they figured out what made donald work: getting frustrated sure but with him being a relatable every man and sometimes trickster as seen here with the hats and him pulling that old coin on a string trick. 

He also dresses up like a baby at one point and i’ts weird but oddly funny... but yeah donald is in peak form here and this one is another clear A+, if for the running robot gag alone as donald keeps puttingon new hats and the robot has a truly spectacular design.

 6. Donald’s Better Self (1938)

Now for a weird one.. not the most surreal thing on our list, despite you know a devil version of donald popping out of his mailbox, but it’s damn close because you know, Donald as Satan popping out of his mailbox.  In short Donald is cast as a school aged child.... you know what’s coming. 

And you may say “Well jake they were just experimenting and his age was vauge at first” and to that I say, with no joke Huey Dewey and Louie debuted THIS SAME YEAR. Even given how adaptable older cartoon characters are, and they are it’s part of the charm, and tha’ts fine.. this is a bit over the line. Oh and it gets weirder as donald has the standard cartoon angel and devil arguging over his actions things.. only here the Angel and Devil are donald sized, and again fighting over the soul of a chid in the body of a 30 year old man, literally in some cases, ending with said devil encouraging donald to smoke before he and the angel get into a fistfight. While not an especially GOOD short, you have to admit.. it’s unique.. batshit but unique and worth at least one watch. 

7. Donald’s Penguin (1938)

The second in our trilogy within a series of “Donald gets a pet” shorts, this one start’s out fine, Donald gets an adorable penguin named Tootsie from “Colonel bird” and does cute things like immitate it’s walk or what not while Tootsie is a grumpus. Fun stuff. Then tootsie apparenlty eats Donald’s fish, and donald spanks the poor bird. Now this pissed off some people on Letterboxd but me, while it’s slightly distressing, it was 1938: while spanking was NEVER a great thing, it was acceptable back then and as far as Donald knew Toottsie knew not to eat the fish, Donald had told him no adorably, and did it anyway. So donald goes to get an apology trout, which he just.. has for some reason out of the ice box and uh.. things take a turn from “it was accpetable at the time” to “HOLY SHIT”...  Tootsie decides fuck it and eats the fish and uh... Donald.. how do I put this calmly.. ahemahem okay... DONALD GRABS A FUCKING SHOT GUN AND CHASES HIM AROUND, THEN ONLY BACKS OUT AT THE LAST SECOND, A SHORT FIRES, AND HE MOURNS WHAT HE THINKS IS HIS DEAD PENGUIN. We then get a cute shot at the end but holy shit.While Elmer fudd is one thing since he’s A) the bad guy and B) is indeed trying to kill a wild animal he has a lisence for instead of his fucking pet whose a protected species if those existed back then, this is just... like the donkey abuse, deeply uncomfortable. It’s one thing to spank a pet, even up to the 90′s that was acceptale and still is in some circles, but it’s another to try and murder it over a slight infraction. Just.. jesus christ. I want Tootsie back too, this was objectivley terrifying. Let’s move on. 

8. Mr Duck Steps Out (1940)

Ahhhh yes the short about dancing that brought me to the dance. This one is, without a shred of second guessing, which for my anxious self is a miracle, my faviorite both of this batch and in general.  The short is about Donald trying to go on a date with Daisy at her house, and his nephews inviting themselves along and trying to ruin there uncle’s every attempt at getting romantic with wacky hyjinks. That’s.. basically the plot.. as you can tell these things are very light on plot but here that’s all you need.  A few things to note. 1) The boys are VERY much in their early characterization, i.e., their all assholes instead of “All huey 2k17 but dialed down a notch” or “karmic tricksters working against their uncle’s ego”, though they’d ocassionally dip into this in the 80′s ducktales depending on the episode, especially if webby was around, and shove their face into it and inhale deeply like me with the hidden mountain of cocaine hidden under my basement.   The second is that Daisy has a duck voice, much like Donna did for this short and only this one. It’s not too distracting given she barely speaks, though she has more than enough body language to make up for it, it’s just.. odd.. especailly since it means Clarence Nash, donald’s voice actor, is voicing EVERYONE in the short and doing a terrific job of it.  Even weirder is Disney would later redub a shortned version for Disney Channel in the 2010′s that had their modern voice actors (Donald Aselmo, Tress Macneil and Russi Taylor, god rest her soul) re-dub it and it just feels all kinds of wrong despite the three being excellent va’s. I dunno the cleaner modern audio just feels wonky coming out of the old 40′s short.  But despite it’s oddities the short really has fun, from the iconic little dance donald does at the start...

Serioulsy I freaking love that dance and his outfit. To the little laughs donald gives when telling daisy “HA, I brought my nephews ha” like a 40′s tommy wiseau, to him roaring in a lion skin to the ending which is just pure adorable and nice because Donald actually GETS to win, especially because half of all donald shorts or comics where he’s sympathetic end up with Donald miserable and beaten up and me like this. 

Instead Daisy kisses him all over and over again, until the night goes dancing. 

Overal a fun, fast paced short about Donald trying to get laid and the gold standard of Donald Duck shorts. Two more things before I move on. This was co-written by disney comics legend Carl Barks, and it shows, and i’d be remiss if Id idn’t mention this bit of Daisy, after playfully shoving donald away when he coyly asks for a kiss, giving him a come hither signal with her butt.. which is somehow hot. Don’t ask me how.

And with that mental image we move on. What do we got next?

9. The Spirit of 43 (1943)

Ah yes propaganda! and the first one I couldn’t find a gif for. I watched this one because it’s another Barks one, he worked on several of these and was also the one who suggested not having HDL be assholes all the time as he felt, rightly, it’d get old after a while, and because it has protypes for scrooge and gladstone, and is thus one of the only shorts Scrooge is in and the only classic one... And like Donald’s Better Self it’s fucking weird. It’s all propganda no joke as ONCE AGAIN, yes AGAIN, two figures battle for Donald’s soul, this time a scottish man encouraging him to save and donate and a sleezy huckster encouraging him to spend for himself.. even though spending in bars and what not helps the economy and gives the bartender money to stay open during such trying times, but whatever. Also the huckster aka proto gladstone turns into hitler.. yes really.. and Donald then punches him through a swastika captain america style because donald duck is hardcore. Trust me this is somehow NOT a cocaine induced fever dream I had. Not a great one but like Donald’s Better Self worth at least one watch, in this case in additiont o the insantiy for the historical value of seeing two prototypes for Carl Barks most iconic characters. 

10. Sleepy Time Donald (1947)

As you can tell this one’s way more wholesome and way less of a drug trip. Donald goes sleepwalking and Daisy, realizing it, plays along so he dosen’t wake up and goes thorugh the motions of one of their dates. Very simple, ending with Donald thinking he’s the sleepwalker before she conks him out, and very adorable as while Donald isn’t concious, and has a boot on his head, we see what a standard date for them is like when Daisy is being written well as they strut around the park, he proposes, it’s all really damn cute and if you like these two together, you’ll really enjoy this one. Not much else to say other than it’s really precious and really funny and creative. Kinda hard to follow up Donald duck punching out hitler. 

11. Daddy Donald (1948)

Another quick one and the end of the “donald gets an animal” trilogy. First off, while I only got one gif from this short, I DID get this lovely image under “Daddy Donald” in Tumblr’s gif search thing

Awwwww. Anyways, Donald adopts a kangaroo like it was a baby, it’s kind of weird, not as weird as the above. He and Joey slowly bond, while he gets directions on what to do from the lady at the adoption place over the phone and hyjinks insue. Kind of cute but not quite reaching the heights of “Donald’s ostrich or the first hal fof “Donald’s Penguin” and not being quite as surreal as Double LIfe or Donald Punches Hitler.. which is what Spirit of 43 should’ve been named. I mean at least “De Fuherer’s Face” had a memorable name. But yeah not one of hte more notable ones and I mostly included it to round out the trilogy. Speaking of trilogy’s to close out this celebration of Donald, one of the last shorts and the last one featuring Daisy, and the inspriation fo rher Ducktales outfit. Donald’s Diary. 

12. Donald’s Diary (1954) Well.. this is basically one half of a good short ending in a lot of misogny. I could end it there but there is a lot to this short. It basically has donald, weridly in a clearly voiced narration talking about his courtship with Daisy as she first tries to get his attention and he’s oblivious.

Then she uses a rope trap and we get this iconic image which is concentrated awwwww. 

Then they date, Daisy’s implied to have dated a bunch of guys which was a bad thing in the 50′s but is perfectly resonable in 2020, and he meets her brothers, basically huey dewey and louie standins and her.. parents. Yes apparnetly donald’s parents have to be implicitly dead by present day, but Daisy’s can be alive. Weird ain’t it? It’s pretty adorable, has some great gags and we even get him proposing and them marrying!  And then the shoe drops.. yeah the rest of the short is how she expects him to GASP work all day , fair enough but then GASP do all the chores.. which is bad but the short implies it’s because he’s the man and she’s the woman and she should do housework. It’s actually bad because marriage is an equal partnership and while asking him to do a chore or too after working all day is fine just fine, asking him to do EVERYTHING while you do nothing is abusive and terrible and i’ve seen it actually happen in my friend’s previous marriage. So yeah this message can fuck off. And I knokw standards of the time, penguins having shotguns pointed at them etc but there’s not having aged well but being able to ignore it and there’s this.  And then she procedes to spousally abuse him and work him to the bone, and then he wakes up, and assuming ALL marraige sare like this dosen’t end up proposing leaving the poor girl wondering what the fuck she did to upset him. Real fucking cute guys. Seriously just.. part of the reason this part bothers me so much is MANY people think this is what marriage is like, like a fucking terrible sitcom. Life isn ot like home improvment or according to jim, or my wife and kids or king of queens or family guy, or you get my point again and yes I reused some their that bad.. even now we get stuff like man with a plan. It annoys me because 70+ years later and while it’s getting better this same lazy comedy still happens! and much like king of queens wasted the late great jerry stiller, this short wastes great animation and a great first half to tell a terrible story. It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth and is a bleh note to end on. Watch the first half because it’s adorable, end it at the wedding.  IN conclusion Donald’s shorts are a mixed bag but as you could tell some are truly spectacular and some are worth the spectacle and all have terrific animation and effort put in, evne when they didn’t deserve it and as such I couldn’t think of a better way to honor donald’s birthday than with these animators hard, well worth it efforts. Even when it wasn’t great, it was still somewhat fun. So happy birthday old friend and here’s to many more. Later Days.

[emsartwork]

If you’re comfortable with sharing, it would be cool to hear more about your winx next gen, if that’s okay with you?

Yes of course!!!! below the cut cus i get rambley

the story so far: Daphne and Thoren are king and queen of domino. Ashia and Nex are king and queen of Andros. Sky and Bloom are king and queen of Eraklyon. Stella and Brandon are queen and king of Solaria. Tecna was queen of Zenith for a while but got bored and decided to do something else, now she and Timmy run an exploration research company that explores the outer reaches of the magix dimension. Flora is the potions teacher at Alfea, Helia runs a small art gallery in Magix city. Musa started her own record company, and Riven became the assistant combat instructor at Red Fountain. Icy broke Tritannus out of mer-prison and transformed his tail into legs, the two are now in hiding along with Darcy. Stormy left the Trix after an issue with Icy. 

THE CHILDREN:

alrighty lets start off with Sky and Bloom, or Skoom as I like to call them. This is Aidan.  He attends Novatan University, a new school now on Magix. He’s a classically trained necromancer but will use magic in just about any way he can. He uses the tile of Necromancer of Ash.  Aidan does not posses the dragon flame, and boy is he angry about that. Though he gets along with his cousin Ophelia pretty well, he is intensely jealous of her destiny as bearer of the dragon flame, and to compensate he seeks power above his own and some times other’s safety. Aiden is loud, prickly, and easy to rile up, but cools down quickly and forgets about whatever made him angry. Bloom, in true Bloom fashion, generally avoids her son because she doesn’t know how to deal with his attitude (he also occasionally reminds her of Valtor and that scares the hell out of her). Sky does his best to spend time with and curb Aidan’s more destructive impulses but he also has to rule his kingdom. Aidan basically only gets along with Ophelia, he can hang out with Selene and Jack occasionally but they tend to annoy him. He and Thorn do NOT get along. 

Daphne and Thoren!!! Daphen? Thorphne? idk their names don’t mesh that well lol. any ways this is Ophelia. Ophelia attends Alfea and is known far and wide as fairy of the dragon flame. After Daphne became pregnant, she had to ask bloom to return the dragon flame to the royal line of Domino since its always been passed down from one heir to the next. Bloom(after a few emotional breakdowns) eventually transferred the dragon flame to tiny fetus Ophelia. Ophelia doesn’t want it. She doesn’t really tell any one, but she hates being the bearer of the dragon flame. She hate the attention, the pressure, the legacy, the kidnapping attempts, the random attacks, the fact that she’s always the target. Ophelia isn’t even sure she wants to be queen of Domino in the future. in her free time Ophelia writes stories. Ophelia shoves her feelings down, holds grudges, and she can be VERY passive aggressive. When she finally explodes she can very destructive and cruel. Ophelia loves her cousin Aidan but can’t spend a lot of time with him because she can eventually feel the jealousy streaming off of him. She gets along really well with Anemone, but when they do fight its Armageddon. She also gets along really well with Thorn, as they’re both level headed older sibling types.  

Timmy and Tecna!!!(Tecmy?) I know. She looks nothing like either of them.This is Ruth, Timmy and Tecna’s adopted daughter(they have actually adopted several other children but Ruth is the oldest and most important to the plot). When Ruth was about 10, her family’s ship crashed on a tiny desert planet in an uninhabited solar system. Her parents didn’t make it, and Ruth herself was severely injured. She managed to stem the flow of blood from the gashes in her shoulder and thigh, and cobbled together a radio system from the pieces of the ship. Timmy and Tecna were out on an scientific exploration mission when they picked up her distress signal. Infection had already set into her deeper wounds and her arm and leg had to be amputated. Ruth uses a prosthetic leg in day to day life, but prefers not to have a regular prosthetic for her arm. Ruth attended and graduated from Cloud Tower, and is the Witch of Metals, she manipulates metal into a movable prosthetic arm when she needs to, but doesn’t maintain it as its a drain of her magic. Ruth is Koyuvian(a fake planet/race thats in my version of winx club) and wears the tinted glasses to filter light. Ruth is a mechanic, and loves to build different contraptions. She’s hopeless at coding, but builds a lot of prototypes for her adoptive parents. She gets along Selene the best. 

Flora and Helia! Floria!!! (Helora?) This is Thorn. Thorn is Silva Lynphean and a quarter Vaonaaj. He attends Red Fountain and is a team lead in his class and possibly the strongest. Thorn is quiet and sarcastic, generally preferring a books to spending time around people. He’s a little awkward when not in a “specialist” situation. he kind of wishes he was really good with people, but also doesn’t bother practicing socializing because he’s scared lmao he’s basically Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. to compensate for his social ineptitude, Thorn hangs out with Jack a lot. He is very observant though and can pin point people’s weaknesses in a snap, and he’s not shy about using those weakness if he needs to.  He and Ophelia get along well, but he thinks Aidan is a spoiled brat who throws too many temper tantrums. 

Musa and Riven = Riva. So this is Jack. Jack attends Red Fountain. Jack loves to be the center of attention, and hides all of his insecurities behind an over the top inflated ego. He isn’t terribly interested in his dad’s career (fighting) or his mom’s career (music) but he is decently talented at both. Jack true passion is design. He isn’t totally sure the type of design he wants to do yet, but fashion and architecture are both interesting to him. He’s the best or the worst dressed guy at Red Fountain depending on who you ask, considering he usually throws together items that don’t seem like they should be on the same body at the same time. His mom and dad don’t really get either of his interests, but are trying very hard to be supportive. Jack is the easiest going out of these characters (except maybe Ramiel) and gets along with just about anybody. He’s Thorn’s “wing man”(for both platonic and romantic interests because Thorn just doesn’t frickin talk to people) and the two are kind of a funny pair to look at since Thorn is so so tall, and Jack is….. not. He also gets along well with Anemone. Jack is very intuitive, and doesn’t feel comfortable around Eirlys, usually actively trying to avoid any contact with her. 

Stella and Brandon have Selene. Selene attends Alfea and is the Fairy of the Sun and Moon. Selene is kind of a screw up. She’s clumsy, forgetful, chronically late, messy, and awkward af. Selene doesn’t really think she suits the role of “princess of Solaria”, one of the most televised planets of the Magix Dimension(kind of like Los Angeles is the celebrity center of the US), but is constantly trying to be better at her role. Unfortunately she’s trying to force herself to be like her mom instead of trying it her own way. The one thing Selene is really good at is sculpting, and can usually be found hidden away in her studio with clay in her hands. and in her hair. and on her clothing. basically everywhere she is not neat. She’s pretty quiet in general but get her started on a project and she’ll rattle ideas off one after the other. She and Ruth are crafting besties, and trade creations frequently. She’s horribly intimidated by Thorn, though its mostly their mutual awkwardness clashing. She doesn’t like to be around Aidan much at all. 

This is Anemone! The unlikely product of Aisha and Nex! Anemone is the Fairy of Coral, and is attending Alfea. Anemone is the girly-est girly girl to ever girl. She likes the pink she likes the ruffles she likes the make up and the fashion and the pastels. But the thing Anemone REALLY likes about being a girly girl is that it means stupid people underestimate her, giving her the upper hand and allowing her to reign terror down upon her enemies. Anemone is a girly girl and also a stone cold bitch. She’s not the nicest girl, but that’s mostly because she has the highest self esteem of any of these characters and does not bother with things that are not worth her time. She’ll be respectful and polite as long as you are. She does confide in Ophelia and considers her a good friend, but also thinks Ophelia needs to get her shit together and stop moping lol. She also gets along well with Jack, as they both enjoy fashion and whatever trend is happening at the moment. She dislikes Eirlys, but doesn’t have a solid reason for why lol. 

Ramiel! Ramiel is Stormy’s son, his father isn’t in the picture. So basically after the news broke that some of the winx were pregnant (because lets face it they would be celebrity news) Icy processed it as “shit. they have reinforcements. we need reinforcements.” and proceeded to have herself, darcy, and stormy try to have kids. Icy had already broken Tritannus out of prison, and it was now just a matter of getting their human merfolk mix to actually work. Darcy has always been a romantic at heart so she promised to have a kid with the next man she was actually interested in. Stormy on the other hand has never really given a damn about romance, so she bore the brunt of Icy’s new obsession with continuing the ancestral witches blood line. Stormy didn’t necessarily mind the actual sex part(wasn’t enthusiastic about it either tho so :/ ), but HATED being pregnant. After a rough pregnancy, Stormy gave birth to a son who Stormy immediately became attached to, which was NOT was Icy was looking for, the ancestral and the trix power is passed down through the female line, meaning a son was functionally worthless to her. After Icy basically told her she would have to try again, Stormy took her son and noped out of there asap. She went to Ms. Griffin for help as a last effort, and after agreeing to be stripped of her magic she and Ramiel were relocated to a hidden, sparsely populated village deep in one of Lynphea’s forests. Ramiel knows nothing of his mother’s past, and, against her express wishes, decided to enroll in the Paladin program at Lynphea College. He thinks of Cymmeri as an annoying younger sister, and doesn’t know Eirlys or Arcturus. He vaguely knows of Thorn and Jack due to Red Fountain and the Order doing group training together occasionally. 

This is Darcy’s daughter Cymmeri, usually just called Cymi. She’s kind of a know-it-all, sassy child, who has only just started to display signs of her magic. She and Ramiel form coincidental friends after a random encounter, and she’ll occasionally go to him when she has a problem she can’t talk to her mom or other cousins about. She, like my version of Darcy, is at least part Koyuvian(my own personal made up planet not from the winx) which gives her the solid eye color. She wears enchanted glasses to make her eyes appear more ordinary, and to filter light that would otherwise hurt her eyes. Cymmeri also really likes to lean into the creepy goth child role just for kicks.

Eirlys and Arcturus are Icy and Tritannus’ twins. Eirlys attends Alfea and is the Fairy/Witch of Snow, Arcticus will eventually attend Red Fountain, though right now he’s learning magic from Tritannus, and acting as a support to his sister. The twins are actually too young to be attending either school, but their height and forged documents take care of that. both of them usually have spells in place to hide their more fishy traits but i wanted to draw them lol. Eirlys is a fitness nut and spends most of her free time exercising or playing sports. This also gives her an excuse to go on long solo runs so she can relay info to Arcturus who then takes it to their mom. Eirlys is kind of arrogant and can do no wrong in Icy’s eyes, where as Arcturus lacks self esteem and is constantly trying to prove his worth to their mom. Arcturus has an affinity for water, and most of his spells use it. Eirlys tries to force her relationship with most of the winx’s kids, but does genuinely get along with Ophelia.   

this isnt totally accurate for their heights but i did some of these really fast and the proportions are off lol. 

[iwrite-sometimes]

Family is thicker than blood.

AO3

Rk 400 was a detective prototype designed to assist the DPD with any cases they have, so he didn't know why he was being taken to a private residence to be a house android. When he meets his little charge, a boy named Connor, he will have to do things he wasn't programed to do. But as he learns all the horrors the boy has to go through at the hands of his mother, he will feel things he was never meant to feel.

RK400 was the first detective prototype Cyberlife had created. It was given to the DPD to aid in some cases and as a trial run to see what needed to be fixed on the prototype before mass production. However, as the first, and only, model released stood in a Cyberlife lab hooked to an assembling machine, it was clear that idea was completely forgotten by the company. Rk400 found that he was unable to move but could hear and see everything. He couldn’t move his eyes; he could only see what was directly in front of him. There was technician over by a laptop in the corner but not much else, the room was fairly empty.

His audio processors picked up the sound of footsteps, someone in heels, approaching the room. The door opened and a dark skin woman dressed in white clothes approached him.

“Is it ready?” asked the woman, her eyes looking over Rk400 with a calculating gaze.

“Almost Mss. Stern. It took quite a beating. The memory swipe is complete and the biocomponents were replaced. I’m just running a final calibration program to make sure all is functioning properly.” The technician voice shook with uncertainty. It was clear he was uncomfortable in the presence of the woman.

“Hmm. And the anti-deviancy program?”

“It…uh…It’s installed, Ma’am. Along with the housekeeping program and the modified childcare program we installed last time. W-with the modifications you gave me, of course.” The man informed all that was done to the android, trying to please the woman. “Like I said before, ma’am, the anti-deviancy program is not fully developed. It’s still a beta program-”

“It’ll do.” Her voice was clipped and cold. “You can renew the program and check for instabilities, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am. If you bring the unit every three months or so, I should be able to check the program and update it if necessary.”

“Good, an auto cab is outside for it. Give it my address when it’s done.”

“Of course! Umm, ma’am? What will happen with…uh…the whole revolution thing going on? I don’t really want any problems with…you know.”

“Then it’s a good thing this unit was decommissioned and disposed of when it was returned from the DPD, is it not?” she raised an eyebrow regarding the technician.

“Absolutely, yes. Sorry, ma’am.”

The woman left the room without another word and the technician turned back to the laptop.

“Man, I feel bad for sending you back there. I don’t understand why someone wants a detective prototype to take care of their children. That woman really is something.” The technician continued to ramble on while finishing up with the android.

Rk400 remained looking ahead until his programing put him back into stasis to finish the updates and calibrations. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The prototype detective was in an autocab heading to his owner’s house. His objectives were simple, head over to the Stern household and await further instructions. Easy.

The design of the Rk400 was made to blend in a police department, his long silver-gray hair tied in a low ponytail and well-trimmed beard along with his older appearance was designed for him to look like an experienced detective, not the usual house android.

He didn’t have any memories before the encounter at the lab a few hours ago, confirming the memory swipe his system registered. He also could see the basic housekeeping and childcare program running over his detective program. It was clear they weren’t able to take the it out or block it, so it was running in the background clouded by the other two. Rk400 didn’t know why he was to go to a home instead of a police department, but his instructions were clear so he didn’t spend more processing power on that thought. It didn’t matter. He had his instructions.

A large house came into view. It was a modern design, completely white on the outside with a big garden in the back. A lot of space for pets, his programing supplied. Maybe the family had a dog or something. The house didn’t look very inviting, it was clear that the design was made with the purpose to intimidate and flaunt wealth rather than warmth. Rk400 regarded it with uninterested eyes, his detective program telling him that this was common behavior within wealthy people, but not with people with children. There was absolutely no indication that a child could live here. No toys in the garden or playsets that could have easily fit in the oversized garden.

Rk400 exited the car and walked the path to the door. It opened automatically and in the middle of the receiving room he saw the same woman that was at the lab, dressed in the same white outfit, regarding him coolly. The android approached the woman, stopping at a reasonable distance and resumed his standby pose. With his hands loosely clasped behind his back, his posture neat but relaxed at the same time, the android awaited instructions.

The woman regarded him for a minute longer before beginning.

“My name is Amanda Stern. You will address me as Mss. Stern or Ma’am at all times.” She waited for his LED to indicate he was done processing the information before speaking again. “Rk400, register your name. Hendrik.”

“Name registered as Hendrik, ma’am.” He said while maintaining his pose.

“You will take care of all house chores and cooking. Your main task is looking after my children. Connor” a child appeared to have materialized next to the woman. He was small and thin, his scans showed he had recently turned 6 years old, but was short for his age group. He was dressed in black slacks and a plain white shirt. His back straight, head slightly tilted down and hands clasped stiffly behind his back. The kid was standing just within reach of Amanda, not looking at anyone in the room.

The woman placed a hand in his shoulder and Hendrik swore he could see Connor flinch minutely. As if nothing was amiss with his son’s stiff posture and obviously anxious behavior, she continued.

“He must follow this schedule. Download it and make sure he follows it closely. He must obey all of it, no matter what. He is behind enough as it is.” She finished with a look at the boy and his little head lowered further. “His brother, Niles, is in boarding school at the moment and won’t be back for two more months. He doesn’t need such a monitored schedule, but you will aid him in what he needs when he is home. Is that understood?” The way she talked about her other son was clearly different from when she addressed Connor. The little boy looked ready to cry, but was clearly trying to remain still under his mother’s hand.

Hendrik was confused, this wasn’t a normal parent-child relationship, that much was clear. But he couldn’t understand why. This woman was clearly terrifying her son, but apparently that was how things normally worked in this place, so he didn’t spend more time thinking on it.

“Understood, Mss. Stern.” Hendrik moved forward to take the Tablet the woman was giving him to download Connor’s schedule. Once it was in his mind, he realized why the kid was probably so uncomfortable. He should have gone to bed an hour ago, and as the kid woke up at the crack of dawn, he must feel exhausted. All of his information on kids told him small children should get way more sleep than this, but he didn’t comment on it.

“You will not see Connor to bed today. He will take himself to bed and fall asleep promptly.” That said, the kid’s head sprung up and he walked up the stairs with the same stiff pose. Once he reached the top, Hendrik’s fine hearing processors told him the child started running in the direction his room must be in.

“Follow me” Amanda turned and started walking without waiting to see if he was doing so. Hendrik went after the woman through the living and dining area unto the kitchen.

“The menu is over there. It changes every week and I expect you to follow it. Groceries are delivered directly every Saturday.” She continued without sparing another glance. They headed to a smaller room, a laundry room. “This, is obviously the laundry room. You must finish all chores before dinner. Once Connor is off to bed, you will come back here to your charging port for the rest of the evening and remain here until it’s time to wake him up. You are meant to be seen and not heard. You will stay out of the way when I speak to my children under any circumstance.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hendrik eyed the room. There was a charging port next to the towel rack at the back of the room.

“One more thing. Under no circumstance are you to leave this house. You will not talk to anyone other than me, Connor or Niles unless I tell you otherwise. Is that understood?” Her gaze was, if possible, colder than before. Hendrik knew that if he failed to deliver, the consequences would be dire.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gave a stiff nod and left the room, turning the light off along her way. It wasn’t an issue either way, he could see in the dark well enough. Without anything else to do, Hendrik approached his charging port, intending to engage in stasis for the night. Once he was in front of it, something caught his attention. It was something easy to miss. Right above the top of the charging port was a messy scrawl, clearly kid’s handwriting. It was small and blended with the wall well enough for one to not notice if you weren’t looking for it, or if you weren’t a detective android equipped with state of the art technology.

There, on top of his port in that childish handwriting was a word that caused something to stir deep inside his processor.

Hank.

His LED turned yellow for a moment.

>>Designation changed: Hank.

Hi! Ok so first fic in the fandom so...yeah. I really hope you enjoyed it. This fic was inspired by an amazing fanart. They have some more awesome sketches so you should check them out! I will post as I finish editing this, so maybe twice a week or maybe more. Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading :D

[hellosweetsmuppetrumpus]

                            Full Metal Worm Hole I don't own any of the characters they belong to Hiromu Arakawa. I just own the plot and the few friends names I used enjoy this story! Our story begins in a laboratory somewhere on the east coast of the United States.  My name is Mike.  This is my story of strange and weird things.            It had been four years since my partner, D'Vante (who goes by the nickname "Neji"), and I began working on a machine that would allow us to create an alternate world and a pathway (worm hole) that would allow us to travel back and forth between our world and another.  After months of experimentation, we had finally created a prototype.            We created a world based on the stories and writings of a Japanese writer and artist by the name of Hiromu Arakawa.   Our world was the world of the Full Metal Alchemist.            For the prototype test runs, we invited a few of our friends, which in included Joice, Alyssa, Beyshon, and Katie.  We kept survival gear in our lab for when we had extra time to relax and going hiking in the mountains which surrounded our laboratory.  Each one of us had, in one shape or form, studied the ancient art of Alchemy (an ancient tradition, the primary objective of which is the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, capable of turning base metals into gold or silver, and acting as a universal medicine).  Little did we know, we would be in for the ride of our lives.            The machines started to buzz and beep  with lights and sounds.  The portal started to open. D'vante and I looked at each other with smiles, as our hard work was coming to fruition.             "It's working!  It's working!!!" we yelled.            The high energy around the worm hole was making it very unstable.  The computers started flashing warning signals.  The power from the worm hold lifted everything into the air, causing our plexi-glass barrier to shatter as the worm hole began to collapse.  All of us blacked out from the enormous drop in air pressure in the room. We all woke up in a very strange place.  After a few seconds, we all noticed we were in a back alley in an unknown city.  Scattered around us were some of our supplies.  We found our survival bags, hooded cloaks, weapons, food, water, and books.  As each one of us was putting on our cloaks, we heard two men yell down the alley at us.  They were wearing some sort of uniform with rank.            They pulled out their firearms and aimed them at us.            Trying to escape, we ran around the corner.  As they followed, we got the jump on them and knocked them out.  After subduing the officers, we took them to an abandoned warehouse by some train tracks to interrogate them.            We dumped a bucket of water on the two men to wake them.  We had tied them together sitting on chairs to make sure they did not escape.  One of the officers barked a threat, stating that one of the military's top alchemists would come to save them.            During the interrogation, unknown to us, shadowy figures entered the warehouse.   All of a sudden, the Shadows attacked us.  The military officers broke free from their restraints and yelled to the Shadows, trying to scare them away.            "I see you two have friends that hate everyone!" I yelled.            One of the officers replied "What are you talking about?  We thought you were on their side."            " I guess the old saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' is true in this predicament," stated D'vante.            "Guess we should introduce our selves" cackled the figures.            A slim looking woman walked out "I'm Lust."            A fat guy crawled out "I'm Gluttony."            A slender looking guy walked out and crowed in a laugh "I'm Greed."            And another person walked out and stated "I'm Envy."            Each one had a tattoo of an alchemy symbol on different parts of their bodies.             After beating the living snot out of the four, the Shadows retreated.  We helped up each of the officers and they gave us their names.            The tall one was Havoc and the short one was Furey.  They both worked for a man called the Flame Alchemist.            Both, however, were hurt in the fight and we had to get them to a hospital.            Once at the hospital we made our way to the waiting room.  I thought it strange, though, that on our way, we saw a dark haired man followed by two blondes and someone in a suit of armor.              While in the waiting room, my friends and I discussed what had happened and why we felt so strong.            Physically some of us had changed…in my case, my size.  I had grown to about 6'7-6'10!  And the others had gotten smarter.  But, we didn't know why.            Once the doctor came out and told us that Havoc and Furey could have visitors, we went back to visit them in their room.            Once we walked into the room, we were confronted by the dark haired man and his entourage.            One was a young woman with short blonde hair who had two pistols aimed at us.  The other two appeared to be using alchemy to create weapons to use against us.              That is when we got a good look at the short blonde kid.  Alyssa couldn't believe her eyes and she fainted.            Havoc shouted for the dark haired man to stop, that we only wanted to help them.            The dark haired man stopped and introduced himself and his group.  He spoke first.            "I am Colonel Roy Mustang.  This is Lieutenant Hawkeye, and these are the Elric Brothers, Edward "Ed" and Allophones."            "So that's the full metal alchemist? He's so short…" I said.            Just as I said that, I saw something coming towards me.  I ducked out of the way and slammed Ed to the ground.            "I don't think so boy!" I growled.            Mustang gave Ed a glare and he stopped.  Mustang began to ask questions about where we came from and what had happened to us.            We explained about what happened with our lab and running into Havoc and Furey, then the fight with what they called "Homunculi."            "It was strange!  I slammed my hands on the ground and the ground beneath those we were fighting just collapsed!  I don't know how I became this strong."  I muttered.            A shadow of a large man appeared.            "Armstrong, is that you?" questioned Mustang.            A man entered the room who was even bigger than me.  After he nodded, he looked at each of us.  He looked me in the eyes.  After that, he bent down and whispered something into Mustang's ear.  The expression on Mustangs face told a story…he was getting an idea.            Mustang invited us to stay in his military guest quarters. After a few days we were summoned to King Bradley, the head of the military.  He praised us for saving Havoc and Furey and offered each of us the ability to be alchemists or officers in his military.            The next day we each chose what we wanted to do.            I, D'vante, and Alyssa chose to become State Alchemists. A State Alchemist is a military worker that uses alchemy to fight people. Katie and Bey chose to be military sharp shooters.            We knew the military frowned upon members living together unless they were married, and before we received our official rank, we decided to marry so there would not be a problem.  Joice and D'vante married, while I married Katie. Yet Bey and Alyssa stayed single for whatever reason…they never really did say why.  Although, most of the group knew why Alyssa stayed single…she was chasing after Ed.  Everywhere he went, she followed like a stalker.            With joining the military, we were each put under a different "teacher" to show us the ropes. D'vante was put under the tutelage of Scar, a former murderer who killed military members, but was now helping the military find and maintain peace.            Bey and Alyssa were put under Mustang, to train with two different types of alchemy.  (Let me say a few words about Alyssa.  She is very spastic...especially when it comes to the brothers.  Every time they came around the office, she fainted.)  The two also were trained by Hawkeye and Havoc, since each was an expert with firearms.            Katie was taken in by Ms. Olivia Armstrong, in order to toughen her up physically and mentally.  Olivia was renowned for being a slave driver and a taskmaster, while always being a headstrong leader.  The Armstrong family was the most powerful in this world.  They were also the richest!            As for me, I was placed under Major Alex Armstrong, Olivia's little brother.  After a while, we started to act alike. After a few days of working with Armstrong he gave me a pair of gantlets. While we all were placed in good places, we felt like things were just getting started here and our adventure was just beginning.            I remember thinking we had not seen the last of the Homunculi and whoever was leading them.   We had just joined a war for the right to survive.  Hopefully we can win this war and become free, all the while getting used to our new home.  Each new adventure, we will take head-on with our new friends and "families."  Together, and not alone.            As the old saying goes "United we stand, divided we fall".  However that is for another story and another time.            To be continued…. let me know what people think about this since this is my first story I'm working on. this is the beginning of a funny jump into a few of my favorite manga's. please give some feed back on how this sounds.

[tealovesmycar]

Genre: Angst

Characters: Daniel, reader, Hank Anderson, Connor

Warning: I’m not English, I’m Italian, so if I’m wrong at the grammatical level, do not kill me pls. ILY BYE!

Despite your sweaty graduation, the business world has never rewarded you with the right pledge. Fault of your young age? The fault of the economic crisis? The fault of capitalism? Or maybe the androids, who now held even the most daily tasks? You did not shed tears for this, the world evolved more and more and this situation was like a “second industrial revolution” projected into a futurist world.

Fortunately you have found a mediocre part-time job at the DPD. Of course, the idea of investigating the Detroit cases attracted you a lot, even if it was not your field. And do you think they would have given you such an important job at first glance? Obviously not! Are you kidding? With a lot of “kindness” they put you into a sort of “Bob the Adjutant”. In practice a sort of slave: what was broken you repaired, cleaned, brought coffee, donuts etc … At this point, will you ask? But the androids and other robots involved in these tasks? Well the police department did not have so much money to afford it, so you can safely say that all those years of study, tears and sacrifices have been thrown to the toilet.

In the first few months of work, you had a kind of friendship with Lieutenant Anderson and his android Connor. Probably that man saw you as a daughter, given the great difference in age that separated you. And Connor … well, he was an android dedicated to his work, but at the same time he seemed to try to mix with the rest of his collaborators. It was a day like many others at the DPD and you were commissioned by Lieutenant Anderson to buy a box of donuts and a sugared Espresso (with three sachets of sugar, as the old man rightly pointed out). When you came back to the police department, you did not find the man and his buddy at their desk, so you asked around where they were hunted and the two colleagues went to the archive. So by going down the stairs you found yourself in your destination and approaching the lieutenant, you said: ❝Lieutenant Anderson, his breakfast, I did not find you at your desk, so they told me to look for you in the archive❞ you explained while the man a little annoyed at your presence there, he took his breakfast. ❝Technically, in the archive, people not involved in detective work are not allowed, miss (y/n)❞ Connor said firmly. Initially you did not understand, but your gaze was caught by the wall in front of you. There were objects, tablets with information and … a carcass of an android. You do not know why but your heart froze for this scene.

The android was hanging on the wall, with only the bust, with a side, shoulder, cheek and temple wounded by a firearm. This meant that the bright blue biocomponents could flow on the carcass. Even his arms had been brutally uprooted from his body. Your stomach was twisting through the malaise and regret, what had happened to that android…? With a thousand questions for your head, follow your obedient followers out of that dark and sinister underground.

↪ ᴀ ғᴇᴡ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ

❝Connor can I ask you something?❞ you asked, approaching his desk. He looked up intently in the eyes, as if he were studying your soul … that he was studying you to collect data? ❝Sure Miss (y/n), I am at your disposal❞ he replied with a formal gesture. You bit your lip slightly uncomfortable. ❝I…That android in the archive…what happened to him?❞ you asked, scratching your temple with your index finger. Connor seemed to hesitate for a few moments, the bright circle on his temple turned red, then yellow and then blue again. Did you perhaps touch a few sore keys? ❝He was called Daniel, Model PL600. He worked for the Philips family❞ he began to tell ❝One day his family decided to replace him with a more efficient and advanced model … This caused Daniel to unleash a malfunction, making him a deviant and consequently a danger for those who could surround him❞ said the android clearing his voice suddenly becoming gloomy. His LED turned yellow ❝He took the daughter of the Philips, Emma, ​​made her become hostage and going with her on the balcony, after killing her father, he threatened to throw himself into the void with the child…❞ you took a chair to sit next to you to your colleague ❝I was immediately assigned to the thing, I am a prototype of Cyberlife involved in these tasks. I convinced Daniel to let the girl go, but I could not guarantee him the same salvation…❞ admitted the android looking in his eyes, as if his own had become ice. ❝So as soon as I had the opportunity, I signaled to the snipers to shoot him point blank instantly❞ to that statement you felt the earth almost disappear under your feet. Did Connor really be able to do such a subtle and cruel thing? With a lump in my throat, you stood up for a moment watching that icy and formal machine. ❝Thank you Connor … for your cooperation❞ you said and then left.

❝Miss (y/n)…❞ Connor called you making you turn ❝I know what you think…his heartbeat is the proof❞ he commented and then look you in the eye again ❝I am a machine, not a monster and that was my task❞ …Yeah, just a machine. Yet the actions that Daniel had committed were all but the result of a technological device. He was alive, but society suppressed him before he could take his first breath.

↪ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ…

You were in your apartment, immersed in your thoughts. Daniel, the story of the deviant, was a topic that has always been current in this last period in Detroit, but until now it seemed to have turned only around you and did not enter your head. You did not want this to happen again, you wanted Daniel to be happy, free, alive. And yes, you would have gone against everyone, your boss your colleagues, Anderson, Connor, the Cyberlife. Was it really worth it to get out of the pawns of society? Yes, it was worth it.

You took a day off, pretending you sick. Those shirkers would buy donuts and coffee alone. You ordered some spare parts compatible with the PL600 model, for you to remember the codes and the necessary arts was a breeze (thanks to a degree in mechanical engineering). Unfortunately you had to say goodbye to many of your savings, but this was also a real challenge to understand to what extent your skills could go. The courier arrived the same evening and leaving the necessary at home, you headed to the DPD with the intent of approaching the archive. As you expected, there were still some people inside. Without making you notice too much, you wore the clothes of the departmental cleaning company, you approached the archive and with a few moves succeeded in hacking the security system and infiltrating inside. Here he is, in front of you … you were still in time to renounce this plan so crazy, but now you were determined to end this madness. Carefully, you took the android’s bust and put it in a trash bag and quickly left the store, you said you had to go throwing out the trash.

Return home to lay the body on your bed covered with sheets of cellophane. Did you know that the biocomponents would have stained every corner of your house and in addition to your money thrown away, you could not even throw away your house. You worked all night, without stopping, and when the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains of your house, you looked at the now completely reassembled body. The worst was done, now the operating system had to be reactivated, but it was several times that you tried to revive it and you could not finish anything. Esausta tried again one last time and with eyes heavy now decided to move away from the body of Daniel, for a few minutes to drink a cup of coffee to awaken a bit. You were busy drinking a cup of coffee while watching over the lifeless android, when suddenly his torso rose and the expression on his face was on the verge of shock. ❝EMMA❞ he screamed and then took an asthmatic breath. It scared you so much, that the steaming cup fell to the ground and shattered on your parquet. ❝WHO ARE YOU? DO NOT CLOSE TO ME! WHERE I AM? WHERE IS EMMA?!❞ he said as he tried in every way to get up from the ground, falling very roughly, however, for the lack of balance.We tried to approach you avoiding in every way to scratch with the shards of the cup. near the bed, where Daniel stood and gently, almost fearfully, touched his shoulders.“Daniel…”

❝DO NOT TOUCH ME❞ screamed in terror, making you almost shiver ❝I…I do not want to be deactivated! I…I…I do not want to die…❞ he said with tears in his eyes.

❝Daniel, I am (y/n) and I work for the DPD…❞

❝Are you a policeman then?!❞ he asked in terror and on the defensive.

❝No…I’m just an assistant…I do not center anything with the cases on you deviant❞

❝So why are you here…?❞ he asked, looking at you, perplexed.

❝I … I saw you, dead in the archive, they told me what happened to you and …❞

❝Connor lied to me…❞ the android commented with disdain.

❝I know…I could not think that they had destroyed you in such a despicable way…of course, I know, you got overwhelmed by your emotions and…blinded by anger you killed people…❞

❝Mr. Philips lied to me! I thought they loved me but instead…I was just a toy❞ the blonde replied, bursting into tears.

❝You’re not a toy for me, Daniel❞ you said seriously, while he looked at you in amazement. Hesitant you approached some fingers in his golden hair, trying to put them back in their place ❝When I saw you…In the archive I heard something and when they told me what you did…something clicked, in my heart there was something that screamed at me to bring you back to life, because I knew that despite your mistakes you just wanted to live and be free❞

The android seemed to have calmed down and looking around it seemed as if it were scanning the place, but at the same time it was elaborating the current situation. ❝So now you’re the one in trouble❞ he commented, casting a fleeting glance at you. At that moment it seemed that all the consequences of your plan so immature and crazy, came to the surface like an anomalous wave overwhelming you in full. ❝…Probably❞ you said almost not wanting to admit it. Daniel got out of bed looking for some clothes to wear. ❝Prepare your stuff…❞ he ordered impassively leaving you puzzled enough ❝And I want a car, as soon as we can leave and cross the border…No bastard cop will find us❞ he said with a sure tone, giving you his back. ❝I trust you, (y/n)❞ the android murmured, looking in the mirror, noting that it reflected your figure still sitting on the ground ❝See not to destroy it or I will leave you in the middle of the road❞

[eddycurrents]

Abe Sapien: Dark and Terrible & The New Race of Man - “Dark and Terrible”

Words: Mike Mignola & Scott Allie | Art: Sebastián Fiumara | Colours: Dave Stewart | Letters: Clem Robins

Originally published by Dark Horse in Abe Sapien #1-3 | April-June 2013

Collected in Abe Sapien - Volume 3: Dark and Terrible & The New Race of Man | Abe Sapien: Dark and Terrible - Volume 1

Plot Summary:

After learning about the state of the world since he went into a coma from Panya, Abe lights out to discover himself and his purpose. His first trip takes him through Colorado where he comes across an assortment of vagrants on a train and then a congregation filled with monsters in a town that was cut off by the crab-things.

Reading Notes:

(Note: Pagination is solely in reference to the chapter itself and is not indicative of anything within the issues or collections.)

pg. 1 - This is a pretty straightforward adaptation of some of the invocations you’d see in the Goetia with names changed to suit the story and cut down a bit when it comes to adding powers and dominions and such.

pg. 2 - Though the set up of his sigils and circle is wonky. If you ever find yourself trying to do a demonic evocation, don’t do it like this. You’ll just mess yourself up.

pg. 3 - It’s really no wonder that it doesn’t work. (Just one of the reasons why you should never assume that an error or twelve in a ritual in a book is a lack of knowledge from the author.)

Also, I absolutely love the darkness here in the art from Sebastián Fiumara and Dave Stewart.

pg. 5 - Neat design for this Ogdru Hem.

pg. 6 - The faded photograph approach to the flashbacks is neat. Also, we see Devon pushing his “Abe is the devil” narrative again. Dude needs to pull his head out of his butt.

pg. 7 - Also, Devon’s obsession with Fenix is still rather creepy. And interesting that Panya is still remaining silent.

pg. 8 - The art from Fiumara and Stewart here is just gorgeous. Love the weight given to the larger crab Ogdru monsters.

pg. 10 - This siren-song spider monster thing is really neat. Also horrifying and probably completely made up given the context. I quite like this approach to storytelling from Mike Mignola and Scott Allie.

pg. 12 - Nice body horror. And the integration with the vampire story in the “Pickens County Horror” is nice.

pg. 14 - They seem oddly angry that the bundle of clothes can talk.

pg. 16 - This is just an amazing reveal for Abe’s new appearance. Though we’ve seen it a number of times previously, the reveal here feels important.

pg. 17 - Nice bits of awkward action here.

pg. 21 - I love the reaction panels here.

pg. 22 - Even though they were just fighting with him, it’s interesting that the two other vagrants choose to essentially cover for Abe’s escape instead of pointing out that he’s in the cabin.

pg. 24 - Nice that we finally get the full conversation with Panya. Along with a recap of what happened to Hellboy and Abe’s sadness over it.

pg. 25 - And a recap here of how Langdon Everett Caul became Abraham Sapien. Mignola and Allie are doing a good job of not only intertwining the various stories throughout the Hellboy universe, but also ensuring that everyone’s up to speed.

pg. 27 - I love the composition of this panel. The kitty in the foreground is adorable. It also kind of makes the admission that Kate may be fraying at both ends more ominous, since the conversation is kind of backgrounded. And Panya definitely seems to be telling Abe that he needs to get away before everyone else starts cutting him up.

pg. 30 - I love the silence. Though, is Abe looking for the priest in the confessional or what?

pg. 32 - Lucky. Right...I don’t think luck exists in the Hellboy universe. There’s always an ulterior reason.

pg. 33 - Also, this priest is very accepting of Abe.

pg. 34 - The agents raise a really good point about the Ogdru Hem and the monsters they create. Almost every previous encounter yields monsters that seem not to show higher forms of intelligence. Crafty, sure, but not conversational intelligence. Personalities seem to be destroyed in the transformation.

Though, we have seen exceptions. Including the frog monsters that the Black Flame trained, a few of the Ogdru Hem themselves, the “Revival” frog kid, and Nazi lady from Conqueror Worm. Makes you wonder where all of the more advanced monsters happen to be. And why they’re unseen at this point. What horror are they planning?

pg. 37 - This definitely explains why the priest was accommodating to Abe. He thinks the monsters are good.

pg. 39 - It’s interesting to see that some transformations aren’t complete. When other times it seems like it’s immediate and wholly at once.

pg. 40 - Aw, Abe’s still doing to stupid heroic thing.

pg. 43 - It always seems to devolve. Nobody ever listens to “reason”. Mob rules.

pg. 45 - The turn from a misguided but still seemingly Christian line of belief from the cliffhanger, to the more explicit Lovecraftian stuff here at the beginning of this chapter is a nice twist.

pg. 46 - Also the horrific realization that Abe has of previous prophecies.

pg. 48 - And that explains Henry even more as he transforms. It would also seem to answer Vaughn’s question previously about where the smarter Ogdru Hem are. They’re infiltrating societies more stealthily. Transforming and infecting from within.

pg. 49 - Hell of a time for Abe to grow a conscience about killing other monsters.

pg. 50 - Love Clem Robins changing the style of the font and word balloons for Henry’s monstrous appearance. It helps differentiate his human form from the Ogdru Hem personality.

pg. 51 - Love these monster designs. Their fluid nature and asymmetry remind me a bit of the infected from Prototype.

pg. 52 - Abe not wanting to shoot other monsters didn’t last very long.

pg. 53 - Though there’s no loyalty between the monsters either.

pg. 57 - Why use a shotgun when you can use a giant rock?

pg. 59 - Though it didn’t really seem to work.

pg. 60 - Henry, as the Ogdru Hem, definitely seems to be giving some foreshadowing as to what’s coming.

pg. 63 - It’s kind of funny that the Bureau finally catches up with Abe...

pg. 64 - ...only for it to all go to hell again.

pg. 66 - What this occultist is doing is curious. Also, we seem to be getting the admission that the Bureau will be leaving Abe alone for the time being.

Final Thoughts:

After getting the other Fiumara brother, Max, for BPRD: 1948, we see Sebastián here. Both of them are phenomenal artists, so it’s a coup to see them both brought into the Hellboy universe family. Especially on a series as steeped in horror as what Abe Sapien becomes as this ongoing started. While his style is still dark, like Max’s, it’s a little more restrained when it comes to his exaggerations.

I realize that that’s kind of odd when it comes to a story that includes horrific body transformations, twisted monsters, and fish men, but there’s less exaggeration when it comes to Sebastián’s depiction of the average person. You can see some shared influences between the two Fiumaras, but Sebastián’s seems to lean heavier towards Stephen Bissette, John Totleben, Tom Mandrake, John Ridgway, and Thomas Yeates. 

Which in itself I find fairly interesting because this story gives me very heavy vibes for both early Saga of the Swamp Thing travels by train by Martin Pasko and Thomas Yeates and of the later “American Gothic” arc from Alan Moore, Stephen Bissette, and John Totleben. I also get a bit of the Incredible Hulk feel from the Bill Bixby/Lou Ferrigno television series.

Going for straight-up horror, while maintaining the ongoing major narratives in the present, I thought was a great idea for this series. Like pretty much every series within the Hellboy universe, each serves its own purpose, which ensures that there isn’t any chance for the stories to become stagnant or repetitive. Even here as we get a recap of many different events, but cast now in a different light.

d. emerson eddy is dark and terrible.

[babblingblondegenius]

Future Ficlet: All You Need is Love...and Coffee

Wow, tonight’s episode was brutal.  Between the painful Olicity separation in present time and the lack of Olicity in the dark future of the flash-forwards, we aren’t seeing any of the happy right now.  There seems to be no hope. Our heroes’ sacrifices were all in vain.  Basically, everything sucks.

As kismet would have it, a couple of weeks ago, I shared a fun little head canon with @allimariexf and @hope-for-olicity and they both encouraged me to ‘write the thing.’  I’ve had a terrible case of writer’s block for quite some time (meaning I have a gazillion story ideas and a ton of WIPs that are unfinished).  I expected this one to end up dormant in my drafts as well.  But after tonight’s episode, I felt the need to finish it because we (and Olicity, of course) deserve a little hope and happy.  Set two years in the future, the premise of this little fluffy ficlet is that Felicity needs an assistant but she has particular criteria ;)  

This should have been the easy part.  

After months of enticing investors, obtaining the proper licenses and permits, all the legal mumbo jumbo, and locating the perfect office space, hiring an executive assistant is going to be the breaking point where she finally loses her sanity.  

Which completely defeats the purpose of trying to find someone to help her in the first place.

She has been doing fine on her own, thriving actually, since she decided it was time to recommence building a tech company from the ground up, sans Curtis this time.   This venture, for better or worse, will be all hers.  Her vision.  Her name. Her legacy.

Despite her initial apprehension at that thought, she has a clarity and confidence in her mission and goals that has propelled her forward at a pace she couldn’t have imagined.  So far, choosing which of her many prototypes she wanted to launch first has been her biggest challenge.

Until now.  

She had narrowed down the stack of over 100 applications to the eight most qualified for the position, and began the interview process at 7:00 this morning.  

The first one had been punctual, neat, and lacking any sort of personality whatsoever.  

The second one arrived twenty minutes late and then interrupted Felicity mid-interview to take a non-emergency personal call on her cell phone.

The third one tapped her super long artificial nails on the edge of Felicity’s desk the entire time and included ‘loud typer’ when asked how her current co-workers would describe her.

The fourth one was a chaotic whirlwind who overshared details of his personal life on every single question.

Maybe he just had too much caffeine in his system. Or maybe she doesn’t have enough.

Coffee.  She needs coffee.  Her next interviewee isn’t scheduled to come in for another hour, so she takes the reprieve to just lay her head down on her desk for a moment in order to gather up the energy she needs to make the trek down the block for her caffeine fix.

“One vanilla soy latte, extra sugar, extra cinnamon, extra whip cream.”  

Oh yes.  That’s exactly what she wants.  Why she is thinking it in Oliver’s voice, she doesn’t know.  Her coffee daydream is so vivid, she can even smell the soothing notes of vanilla with hints of sweet cinnamon spice wafting through the air. Mmmmmmmm.

“Felicity….honey, are you okay?”  Oliver’s voice again.  She slowly lifts her head and sees her husband standing on the other side of her desk, holding a large cup emblazoned with the logo of her favorite java joint and her name scrawled across it in black marker.

“I am now,” she practically purrs as he hands over her treasured treat.  After taking a deep inhale and a long swallow, she blissfully smiles at him.  “It’s perfect.  You’re perfect.”  Suddenly jumping up out of her chair, she shares the revelation brought on by the jolt of caffeine in her system. “Oh!  I have a great idea!  You should apply to be my EA.”  

Oliver chuffs out a laugh.  “Because I brought you coffee?  Your standards must be pretty low.”  

“Worried you couldn’t cut it, Mr. Queen?” she asks, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“I think my time served as Mayor proves otherwise,” he retorts with an air of gravitas but mimics her gesture, silently letting her know that he enjoys her teasing him and is willing to play along.  

She shakes her head.  “Nope, not helpful.  You couldn’t even get me a break on my taxes when you were the mayor.  What are your current qualifications?”

He ponders the inquiry for a moment before responding proudly, “I’m the head chef at Chez Queen.”

She rolls her eyes at Oliver’s corny moniker for their kitchen but gives him an encouraging smile.  “Oh yeah, I’ve eaten there a few times.  The food is magnificent.  But do you have any business experience?”

His expression goes from proud to smug.  “As a matter of fact, I do.  I was formerly the CEO of Queen Consolidated.”

She takes another swig of coffee and checks an incoming text on her cell phone before reminding him, “I happen to have first-hand knowledge you wouldn’t have made it a week without your super smart and highly efficient EA.”   

“That’s true,” he concedes with a grin, “though on the downside, she only brought me coffee one time.  One”, he repeats, taking her coffee and phone and setting them off to the side. Placing his palms flat on the edge of her desk, he leans in closer, a visible twinkle in his vivid blue eyes.   “I think she actually broke our coffeemaker.  Violently,” he teases in a conspiratorial whisper.

Mirroring her husband, she leans in over the desk until their noses are almost touching.  “A little violence doesn’t scare you, does it, Mr. Queen?”  She allows her gaze to run down the length of his torso, visibly appreciating the definition of his biceps that his jacket cannot conceal. “You look like you could handle yourself just fine.”

“I like to stay in shape.”  He feigns modesty but she knows her husband and can recognize that look in his eyes. “Some cardio, free weights, martial arts, salmon ladder…”

“That’s so hot” she blurts out, temporarily slipping out of character as her brain produces an amazing visual of sweaty and shirtless Oliver making his way up the salmon ladder.  Will there ever be a day when that doesn’t turn her on?  Probably not, and judging from the self-satisfied smirk on his face, he mentioned it on purpose just to get that very reaction out of her.   Determined to get back on track, she rephrases, “I mean, that sounds interesting.”  She decides a change of topic would be helpful to give her an advantage in their little game.  “Computer skills?”

She immediately regrets that question when Oliver gives her a feral smile that makes her weak in the knees.  Lowering his voice to the same octave he uses when he is dressed in green leather, he divulges, “I’ve hacked a federal prison network.”

Guh, game over.  In all her years with Oliver, that is the sexiest thing he has ever said. She quickly makes her way around the desk and invades his personal space. “Seems like you’re a man of many talents,” she coos appreciatively, latching onto his arm and nuzzling her face into the sleeve of his jacket to breathe in the scent that is uniquely Oliver.

“My wife taught me a thing or two,” he boasts, turning so they are face-to-face and he can wrap his arms around her.  

Her hands instinctively move from his arm to his chest, resting over his heart.  “She must be an amazing woman.”

Oliver nods in agreement, his nose nuzzling hers. “She is.  She’s the best.”

“I know you’re just saying that to get husband points and its working,” she acknowledges affectionately, her hand caressing the stubble on his jaw.   He tilts his head into her palm like a contented cat and she takes the opportunity to kiss him like she wanted to since she saw him in front of her desk, whether it was five minutes ago with coffee or nine years ago with a bullet-ridden laptop.  

Oliver moans and deepens the kiss, the fervent strokes of his tongue making her long for more.  “Okay, you’re hired,” she pants, breaking the kiss when her need for air temporarily overcomes her need for Oliver.  “Smoak Tech is a start-up so your health care package consists of me patching you up if you are injured and I’m sure we can work out some type of compensation for your time and skills,” provocatively shifting her body against his and feeling his obvious interest through his jeans and her skirt.  Two soft kisses and one firm rotation of his hips later, she is internally debating the sturdiness of her desk and whether they have time for her to show him exactly what she means by ‘compensation’ before her next appointment shows up.

“That’s a very tempting offer, Ms. Smoak” he murmurs into her hair as his hand travels down her back and immediately finds its usual place on the curve of her shapely ass, pulling her impossibly closer, “but I’m afraid my current employer really needs me right now and I just can’t bear to leave her,” his free hand gesturing to the stroller where their daughter slumbers peacefully.

Felicity sighs, pure happiness filling her heart and clearing her mind as she rests her head on her husband’s chest to gaze lovingly at the chubby-cheeked, perfect amalgamation of her and Oliver they brought into the world just four short months ago.   “Sounds like she has you wrapped around her little finger.”  

Oliver rests his chin on the top of her head and she can hear the love and contentment in his voice when he whispers in her hair, “From the very first moment I met her.  She takes after her mother that way.”

A/N:  Thank you for reading!  I hope this helped to soothe the sting of all the angst.  Queen family feels FTW.  William was not in this fic because at that time of day, he should be in school and also I didn’t want to traumatize him any further with Olicity’s blatant flirty flirt.  The poor kid has seen enough already lol.  

Huge thanks and virtual hugs to @allimariexf and @hope-for-olicity for all the fun conversations and being all around wonderful :)

Oliver’s ‘current employer’ ;)

[deviatingmycode]

To See Through Your Eyes (Markus x OC Part 1)

//OKAY so this was specifically requested by my pal @birdy5tark​ and we worked together to build this RAD ASS STORY. I think its going to have 4 parts, but I’m not entirely sure. Either I’ll cut them up into more chapters or just have all the segements suuuUUUuuper long. Either way. Enjoy!//

Markus x Fem OC

3.8k Words

No trigger warnings

Read it on AO3!

It was brimming on the edge of Winter in Detroit, Cera could feel the snow in the air. She loved this time of year, the vibrant colours that contrasted the grey skies and gentle winds biting at your cheeks. Autumn was coming to a slow end but that didn't stop the city from being a bustling metropolis.  

Cera's sneakers hit the ground gently as she ambled across the pavement. Tonight, she'd be hosting a cocktail party that may or may not be attended by the one and only Carl Manfred. She had adored his work for as long as she could remember. The way he managed to capture what he saw around him and within the world was... quite honestly astonishing. And tonight, she might watch him utterly destroy or make her dreams come true. She was brimming with nerves This could make or break her.

Cera had been setting up a debut of a new set of canvas paintings in the 'Carrolinous Gallery of Unique Arts'. Said gallery also held a vast Manfred collection that she'd gazed at for longer than she'd care to admit. But she never thought he'd be put on the guest list by the curator. He's often escorted by a tall android who goes by the name of Markus. Cera had never met him, but some of her more successful friends told her about him. He was soft spoken, gentle and had a very calming nature. Growing up in Florida towards the start of the Android craze, Cera had never cared for them. Well, that's a complete lie. Cera ADORED Androids, she'd always had a fascination over robotics. She thought Elija Kamski's creations were fascinating people. But, that was the difference wasn't it? She'd always considered them far more than most people wanted to. Even in their early stages, when Kamski would parade his latest prototypes to the world, she saw them as... people. It was unbelievably unsettling to watch them be bought and sold. It left a sour taste in her mouth.  

She swore to never own an Android. It felt so wrong, to have a slave in your home. Someone who cooked, cleaned and did everything while getting nothing in return. Being treated like dirt, like objects. Every Android she met, she treated with as much respect as she would any other person. People thought she was weird because of it but Cera just thought it made sense. You can't build an entire new race of people and then treat them like that, it was disgusting. It reminded her of when parents treat their children like burdens, children who never asked to be born. Androids weren't asked to be made, they had no control over it.  

The music in her earbuds blocked out everything around her, she focused on the feeling of the wind and the way little drops of water kicked up from her shoes as she walked across the wet pavement. Cera was trying to calm herself down before the party tonight, she didn't want to be too het up when she got there, or it'd be a disaster. She had her methods, but she found a soothing walk just before she needed to get ready helped, most of the time, to drown out all the other noise before she'd have to face a room full of very loud, very nosy people. "Serves me right for being in the art industry. These things need to happen if I want to get my work out there." She mumbled to herself, only just hearing herself above her music.  

Getting ready for the party was... interesting. It was a constant cycle of checking the clock, looking at the outfit she'd laid out for herself, reconsidering, asking Erica what she thought and then rinse and repeat. She huffed her bangs out of her face as she noticed the time was drawing far too close to be able to mull this over for much longer. Cera wasn't a very fashion-centered person, yet she knew making a good first impression at these types of socials was stupidly important. Yes, a lot of the art world were obsessed with personal image. She figured her art should speak for herself, but the reality of the situation meant she needed to be at least somewhat presentable. She eventually settled on a sleek red cocktail dress and some comfortable flats. Parties were uncomfortable anyway, why make her feet suffer? It was an hour before the guests were scheduled to start arriving and the curator wanted her there early so she could have a final say on the structure of the showcase; and make any last minute changes she felt necessary. She ran a hand through her dark hair, smiling at how the white tuft at the front sloped over her eyes. Cera huffed, looking herself over in the mirror. Tonight was the night.

The night she'd have to stand and watch her life-long idol scrutinize her work and most likely belittle it. Would he do it to her face? Surely not. Would he trash talk her to other artists? She let out a shuddering breath, realizing she'd been holding it in. He's not like that, surely? But then, who really knows their idols. People can have the sweetest, most distinguished outer persona but really just be monsters in disguise. She reached to her wrist where an intricate bracelet sat. It was made from strong strips of leather, stained black and swerving in-between each other in a tight weave. Speckles of red ran through it like stars in the evening sky. She fiddled with it, rolling it between her fingers as she nodded.  

She settled into the back of the autonomous taxi alongside her best friend and roommate, who was furiously typing on her phone. "Getting into another fight?" She asked her, chuckling. Erica looked up at her with a steely determination. "No, I'm proving someone wrong." Cera rolled her eyes at her friend, knowing she'd be getting an earful on just who this person was and why they were the embodiment of Satan. Erica was sometimes a handful. She was very energetic and had a strong character, someone who wasn't afraid of confrontation. Her background in Biology meant she could argue and have the facts to back it up at arm's reach. This could be useful whenever someone decided to mindlessly harass Cera over a piece of her art they didn't like, but it could get a little much at times. She loved her though, she was the person to get her away from her family, who sheltered and fed her in her worst days. She, who paid for her art supplies and never stopped supporting her when she pursued her love while demanding nothing in return.  

The taxi coming to a stop snapped Cera out of her dream-like reminiscing and the tight knot of nerves in the pit of her stomach quickly made a return.  

The inside of the Gallery was incredible.  

It was made from a repurposed Cathedral, huge panes of stained glass depicting the stories from its long-abandoned purpose decorating the inside. The company who had renovated the Cathedral refused to take them out, wanting to respect the building's history; creating an art exhibit from the building itself. The different rooms held exhibits for various artists and mediums. Sculptures, digital art, wool crafts, paintings, you name it. It was probably why Carl Manfred liked to display his work here, he never did enjoy the norm. The inside of the Gallery was awe inspiring. The huge main room was where they held their current exhibits and today, Cera's art was front and center. She had to stop the tears that brimmed at her eyes from falling. 'I'm finally getting somewhere.' She thought, a rush of emotions overwhelming her for a moment at how far she'd come.  

Thankfully the Gallery had done a good job at organizing her works the way she'd planned and Cera didn't have to make any drastic last-minute changes to the set-up. It was around 7:45pm that guests started to filter in. The event technically started at 8pm but there were those who wanted to get in early before the bustle. Cera fiddled with her fingers as she looked at who was filing in. She recognized a few people but she couldn't bring herself to try and make that kind of small talk. This was already becoming hard, but she had to push through. She pushed her bangs back a couple times, catching the stray strands that tried to escape as she watched people survey the pieces she'd spent a year preparing. The canvases that told more about her than these people could ever see. She wasn't stupid, she knew many of the people here weren't interested in the art she had to offer, only what they could make selling it. Wasn't that the dream? To be successful, loved, in homes and galleries across the world?

Cera's eyes drew towards the entrance where she heard comfortable chatter and a painfully familliar voice. A lump formed in her throat and she turned towards one of her own pieces, trying desperately to act as if she were surveying the brush strokes.

"Agather, thank you for letting me know about this. I'm always pleased to see these up and coming kids and what they're coming up with. Keeps this old man feeling hopeful." Carl smiled up at the curator of the Gallery, a soft-spoken woman with fading grey hair. Her cheeks were always rosy, and she gave off a very motherly aura, it was incredibly calming. She bent down to kiss Carl's cheek. "Oh, hush you. We wouldn't dream of keeping you locked in that studio of yours, come!" Agather ushered both Carl and Markus forward into the room. Markus pushed Carl's wheelchair silently. His eyes flickered to the various pieces dotted around the room and he smiled, seeing the clear inspiration that had been taken from Carl's work. While his Master may always claim to hate these types of parties, he couldn't deny it was lovely to see those who admired his work. Carl had inspired so many artists, young and old, and Markus knew that secretly he loved these gatherings. It was the events that his own work was the highlight that bothered him. So many people simply wanting to try and cash in on Carl's popularity.  

"Cera! Cera dear, I wanted to introduce you!" Agather's voice pierced Cera's mind like a bolt of lightning. The sweet woman was not the problem, it was who she knew she was with. Cera attempted to compose herself before she turned around, offering a polite smile. She couldn't help the hitch in her breath and her eyes widening as she found herself mere feet away from her idol. He looked so casual, confident even. This was something he did all the time, why would he be nervous? "Carl, this is Cera. She's one of our newest exhibiting artists. This is her debut! Cera Stark, this is Carl Manfred, a-"  

"I know! Um- I mean, I uh, I'm very fond of your work, Mr. Manfred. You've been a huge inspiration to me, ever since I was small." She tried to get her words out in some sort of sensible fashion but it all ended up being rushed and shaky. Though she did have to commend herself on it being somewhat intelligible. She held her hands out, and Carl smiled up at her as he shook it, she felt her heart stop. "Thank you very much my dear, that's very humbling to hear." She desperately fiddled with her bracelet, trying to calm her rapid heartbeat. "I was interested in seeing what you youngsters were putting out into the world. Our world is built on the innovation of the young, not the traditions of the old. That's real progress." Cera smiled as a wave of relief washed over her. Carl didn't seem to be like the other stuffy artists she'd met. He hadn't let age wash over his fiery love for his craft like so many others. "I always loved to create things, e-even from when I was young. I never imagined I could end up her-" She gestured at the grand building they were stood in. "-I think 12-year-old me is having a party at the moment." She let out a nervous laugh, trying to hide how her hands shook. She looked up to Markus who was giving her a patient smile, his eyes looking... no. Was it? They just seemed to hold so much more... emotion than the other androids she'd met did. Come to think of it, she couldn't think of anywhere she'd seen this model before. She extended her hand out to Markus. "Nice to meet you as well, um, I-I'm sorry I didn't get your name." The hot sting of embarrassed hit her for not learning the name of the Android of HER IDOL, GODDAMN IT. She was sure she knew his name, but it escaped her like when you're chasing a hat in the wind. So close but always one step ahead. His smile flickered to a look of confusion for a moment before he composed himself, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. "My name is Markus, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." WOW his voice was soothing. It was like auditory silk and Cera felt a blush creep up on her.  

The three were interrupted by the sound of someone tapping on a microphone to test if it works, followed by Agather's energetic voice.  

"Thank you, everyone for attending tonight's debut exhibit. We have some excellent pieces tonight. A special thank you to Carl Manfred for sponsoring our gallery. We wouldn't be anywhere without the incredible people who put blood, sweat and tears into keeping this establishment together. Without further ado, please welcome Cera Stark!"  

Oh Jesus Christ that was her queue.

She smiled politely at Carl and Markus before attempting to weave her way through the maze of people. Agather was stood in front of three of Cera's best paintings holding a microphone and looking at her expectantly. She slid up to the older woman and took the microphone, trying desperately to rehears her speech again in her head, delaying the inevitable for as long as she could. Before she knew it, she was stood alone in front of a crowd of people, including her idol.  

Here goes nothing.

"From the first day I could pick up a pencil, I knew this was what I wanted to be. The world we live in doesn't offer a lot of control... We have rules. Rules for everything it seems. But, when I paint..." Oh god she was shaking, no, she couldn't let the wavering enter her voice. Appearance, presentation, that's what these people were looking for. She scanned the crowd and in the split second that she paused, her eyes found the gentle green ones of Markus. He had wheeled Carl close to the front of the crowd and was nodding at her, encouraging her to continue. The overboiling pot of nerves she'd become began to slow into a simmer. "When I paint, I am in control. People will try to tell you there are rules when it comes to art, force you even; to follow them. But there aren't any. Art is free, it's... It's a comfort, in many ways." She paused again, adjusting her feet and smiling across the crowd. Smiling is important, keep doing that. She thought to herself. "Tonight's pieces I present to you are the fruits of difficult, troubling times in my life. I don't celebrate them, I celebrate myself. My struggles are my own and I dealt with them. I'm still here, they didn't get the best of me. These paintings are a commemoration to my own strength, and I thank you all so much for coming to see them. Art is the thing that has always inspired me to be better, be it famous, well known masters of their trade-" She took a moment to smile down at Carl, who returned it in kind. "-or simply anonymous graffiti on an abandoned building. I am always inspired." A rupturing applause broke Cera out of her dream-like state.  

Her cheeks tinted pink as Agather came to her side to give her a hug. She accepted it, despite not particularly wanting to be touched at the moment. She was filled with adrenalin at what she'd just accomplished. She never dreamed she'd ever be so lucky or brave to speak to a room of people about her art.  

The night was a blur. Cera's brain went into autopilot as she was approached by various artists and curators, offering her their thoughts on her pieces. She did listen, to the best that she could. The constant chattering noise of the room acted like a white noise machine. Everything was so loud, she could hear every tiny thing. Someone accidentally clinking a glass against another as they go to pick it up, the rustling of clothes as someone reaches for a handkerchief in their pocket. The chinking of jewelry when someone tilted their head to consider the piece they were looking at.

Cera was stood in a more secluded part of the huge room, holding a cup of water as she desperately tried to ground herself. Footsteps were muffled through the sea of noise, but the gentle touch on her shoulder caused her to lurch backwards. She turned to see Markus looking down at her with concern. "I'm very sorry if frightened you. Carl asked me to ask you to come see him, so he could ask you some questions about one of your pieces." Cera gulped, tapping her leg absentmindedly. "Oh! Yes, sorry. I was in my own world. Lead the way!" She couldn't help the shakiness of her voice and she cursed herself for being so jumpy. Why did parties have to be so hard for her?

He smiled down at her and she could feel herself calming down, if just a little bit.  

Markus walked effortlessly through the various people dotted around the exhibit before Cera could see Carl in front of one of her pieces. Her breathing hitched, it was the one she'd made just after...

"Art is so interesting. People can debate the meaning behind an artist's works for decades, but unless you actually ask the artist, you'll never really know. I could assume a million things about you from this one painting, but I doubt I'd be right. So, tell me my dear. What went into making this one, if you don't mind me asking?" He turned his wheelchair so that he was facing her, a look of happy curiosity dancing across his face. Cera drew in a shaky breath.  

"I was h-homeless for a time. I didn't have..." She fiddled with her bracelet. She couldn't lie to Carl Manfred, but this was a hard subject to approach. "I didn't really have anywhere that I felt safe. It was a difficult time. My friend Erika... she kept me going." Her mind raced back to those nights... Nights where she couldn't sleep because it was so cold, nights where she was sure she'd never find a home again, night where... she gave up. "She offered me a place, here in Detroit. This..." She gestured to the painting. "Was the first painting I made after I found myself in D-Detroit." The lump in her throat didn't fail to leave her, the memories flooding her.  

"That's very powerful." Carl simply said, his eyes scanning over the canvas. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that your struggle is what made you. Yes, struggle is what sometimes shapes us into who we are, but you clearly have a lot of talent. You turned a horrible situation into something you could master. Never let them tell you that you needed that struggle to build you, you would have gotten here without it." The sparkle in his eyes made Cera smile. Carl Manfred was truly a wonderful man, who managed to bring tears to her eyes over something SHE'D painted. He told HER that SHE had talent. She wanted to hug him and tell him how much that meant to him, but instead she opted for the brightest smile she could muster. "Thank you, Mr. Manfred, there are no words to describe how much that means to me." He nodded, turning back to the painting. "What do you think, Markus?" That made Cera stop in her tracks. She'd never heard anyone ask an Android what they thought before. Markus scanned his green eyes over the painting, his LED blinking as he seemed to take his time to analyze what was before him. "There's a powerful emotion behind this, as you've clearly stated. But you don't have to know that to see that this painting holds extraordinary value." He turned to look at her. "Not monetary, emotional." His gaze was back on the painting. "Though of course I'm sure many will be happy to have this in their home."  

Cera held her hands behind her back, fiddling with her bracelet again. She couldn't quite fathom what he had said. Did Carl tell him to say that? A million thoughts ran through her head and she realized she'd been staring at him. "Thank you very much, that's really sweet of you Markus." She exchanged fiddling with her bracelet to lightly tapping her leg again. "Let's hope everyone else here have the same opinions!" She let out a laugh. Surprisingly, being around Carl and Markus was far more calming than she thought it would be. She doesn't feel she needs to impress anyone like when she talks to other people she's met at these things. Maybe he hated these as much as she did?  

The rest of the evening was as she expected it to be. People sidled up to her to network. They complimented her art in the way they thought she wanted. She enjoyed the praise, of course, but it was hard to take it in when you knew the people giving it likely didn't mean it. They simply wanted to see if they could try and squeeze money out of her.  

Carl and Markus stayed for a few hours, but for much less than she'd like. She said goodbye, offering a sincere smile at the both of them. They managed to make this evening far more enjoyable than it could have been, and shit. Markus probably unknowingly saved her from a terrible presentation and barrels of embarrassment. She wished she knew them well enough to thank them with a gift, but hopefully she'd see them again.  

However, this wasn't the case.

This would be the first and last time that Cera would meet Markus, as he was then.

Before he went Deviant.

[anna-omens13]

“Gotham - Traumatic Connection”

In honor of Gotham’s “One Bad Day” tonight, I give you my class final that I worked so hard on this semester!! It’s been a really long time since I’ve posted any artwork so I thought this was a good choice for starting up again! :D

The project was called “Story Illustrations”; we had to come up with a short story told in drawing form while using the art style or at least aspects of the style of the artists we researched for a presentation. My artist was Greg Capullo, famous for his work in comic books like Spawn, Batman: Death of the Family, and Dark Knights: Metal. I incorporated his use of pitch black shadows into my illustrations.

The story is basically a Gotham AU where Jerome is still alive and with no Jeremiah twin-twist. It’s also based/connected to my Gotham: Valeyne/Batjokes Halloween Fanfic I wrote last year. I plan on making a full story to go with the drawings later this summer; I’m not completely sure whether I’m gonna go with a general story or make it a Valeyne/Batjokes fanfiction, however, the story can be taken in either direction. Maybe I’ll make two versions!

Plot Summary: “It’s close to midnight; Bruce Wayne, cladded in his prototype vigilante outfit, patrols the city from the rooftops when he is spotted by Jerome Valeska. Having loved and permanently dawned the Joker persona since their Halloween adventure, the clown stands under a streetlight happily waving up at Bruce. The young hero asks what he’s doing out and about openly on the streets, to which the criminal replies that he’s having a night on the town and looking for something fun to do.“Fun” finds the two of them in the form of a small gang of former Haly’s Circus workers and former lovers of Jerome’s mother, Lila. Wanting revenge for her death, Bruce and Jerome agree to a team-up.They take to the streets against the carnies and end up on the rooftop of a nearby building. As the fight progressed and leaned in their favor, one of the men’s comments begin to get under Jerome’s skin and caused him to lose control of himself. He takes out a knife, interrupting the up-until-then hand-to-hand combat, and nearly kills the man before Bruce finally steps in to stop him.Frustrated by Bruce’s lack of understanding and unyielding need for justice that doesn’t allow bloodshed, Jerome unburdens his abusive childhood memories and how they shaped him into the insane villain he is now. In a state of emotional hysteria, tears flooding from his eyes, Jerome attempts to inflict self-harm. Bruce moves quickly to knock the knife out of his hand and instead of resorting to a violent means of subduing the young criminal, the boy embraces Jerome in an unexpected hug; something the mad man hasn’t received for a long time if not ever in his life.“I’m screwed up Brucie…” Jerome states. “…So am I…” Bruce replies. Their traumatic childhoods give them an understanding of each other that can only be shared between the two of them.“ The End

Inspiration for this story came from my love of the relationship between Bruce and Jerome; no matter what’s been happening on Gotham, they will always be my favorite enemies! Another source of inspiration are the rare occasions when they have to work together; I love me a Batman/Joker team up!! Some of my favorite examples are Batman: Europa and Batman: The Brave and the Boldepisode “Game Over for Owlman”! Finally, I’ve always loved the compassion Batman has for even the most hardened, insane criminals; he’s one of the only superheroes who treats them as people who had “a bad day” and need help getting their lives back together. I think it’s sweet to think that Bruce had that quality even as a kid. Batman and Joker, Bruce and Jerome; they’re both two sides of the same coin and can understand each other in a way no one else can. Let’s face it, they both had "a bad day”; Bruce could have ended up just like Jerome if he had chosen the path of evil instead of good.

Hope you guys enjoy them and enjoy tonight’s episode of Gotham!! XD

[just-jordie-things]

The Night We Met - Peter Parker

word count: 5568 warnings: swearing, super adorkable peter a/n: this is my first posted peter fic so go easy on me? also this is really low key based on this song, but the sound of it not the words so much if that makes sense? idk i’m at a loss

[ i am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debt / i’ve been searching for a trail to follow again / take me back to the night we met ]

The facility was quiet as you padded through it, though it was common for it to be so silent when the sun had set hours ago.  It was late, one am, you presumed.  But this was the ideal time to go wandering around the building you lived in.  It was dark, only the moon and star’s light shining into the rooms, and the living space and kitchen were surrounded by windows, which casted shadows and small pools of light on the floor that you liked to dance around on your tiptoes in.  Wearing your pajamas and silently leaping short distances and twirling around on the cool tiled or hardwood floors.

You had lived in the facility for the whole past year that it had been built and functioning, and before that you’d lived at the tower for most of your life.  All but the first three years of your life, when you were stuck in an orphanage.  Before Tony Stark adopted you.  Why had he? You were never entirely sure.  You never understood why a man with his wealth and success needed a daughter to add onto his list of priorities but you’d never thought to question him.  Besides, you liked having a Mom and Dad.  Pepper was more of the parental figure, and Tony was mostly there to… well he used to get you into trouble but since you turned fifteen a year ago he became more protective.  You weren’t his little girl anymore, you were a teenager, blossoming into womanhood.  And when you turned sixteen his overprotectiveness only increased.

It hadn’t really mattered, you weren’t really an avenger.  At least, not one out on the battlefield.  No, you preferred working in the lab with Bruce, designing new suits, lighter weapons, deadlier weapons, faster engines for the jet.  But your favorite thing was creating new costumes, as you liked to call them.  Though the rest of the team wouldn’t prefer the term.  Sure, you worried for your Dad, and the others that had just as easily become your family, but you also knew that they were a special set of people.  Trained assassins, super soldiers, even Clint was… important.

(you never missed an opportunity to tease him, much to his displeasure)

So as you twirled around gracefully in the moonlight, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the silence, not even needing a tune to dance to, and found your peace.  You loved these secret nights of yours.  Your own special thing.

[ and then I can tell myself what the hell I'm supposed to do / and then I can tell myself not to ride along with you ]

You were working today, your hair pulled up into a high ponytail and your eyes focused on the sketch in front of you.  You tried not to rock on the stood you sat at while your hand moved swiftly over the tablet, the rubber tipped stylus creating lines of maroon on the screen.

“You know,” Banner spoke, making you jump slightly, and creating a long line throughout the entire design of Wanda’s new and improved outfit.

“Thanks a lot” You rolled your eyes, carefully hitting the undo button and making Bruce roll his eyes right back at you.

“Calm down you fixed it with a push of a button”

“Did Bruce Banner just tell me to calm down?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“y/n just- just shut up.  God when did you become a teenager?” You chuckled, going back to your sketching with a smile on your face.

“You don’t remember? Because I do.  Vividly”

“That’s only cause Tony gave you the body talk” Bruce said, and you felt a chill go down your spine at the memory.  “Anyhow, I was going to say that that new recruit is coming here today”

“New recruit?” You asked, sitting up and abandoning your art now, your curiosity peaked.  “Why wasn’t I told?”

“You designed his suit, the uh… the bug one”

“Ant Man?”

“No, the other one”

“Wasp?” You asked again, Bruce shook his head.

“No no, the one from Berlin” You squinted for a moment, trying to remember.

“Bruce, just cause my Dad’s sorta a snake sometimes doesn’t mean he’s a bug, that’s rude” You chuckled, and Banner rolled his eyes, again.

“Seriously y/n stop being all sassy what happened to your pigtails and pink overalls?”

“I grew up” You stated, wasting no time in getting back to your work.  Bruce frowned sadly at your back.  You were right, you had grown up.  And while you still may only be sixteen, the world you lived in had forced you to mature much faster than you should have.  But nonetheless, he let you get back to your work while he went back to creating a new prototype for Bucky’s arm.

“And no, it’s Spider-Man”

“Alright kid, this is a big deal now” Tony said, clapping a hand on Peter’s back as they made their way into the facility.  “Whole team lives here, my whole family” He told him.

“Wow” Was all Peter could think to say as his eyes looked around.  They landed on everything, quickly, wanting to take it all in at once.

“Okay okay, slow down, you’re one of us now, you’ve got plenty of time to make googly eyes-”

Tony was cut off mid sentence as Peter had crashed into something, sending the box in his arms and the papers in the other person’s arms flying as his victim stumbled backwards onto the floor.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so so sorr-” He stopped abruptly upon seeing you there, gathering your things as quickly as you could.  He couldn’t help his wide eyes as he watched your every movement.  Before he shook his head and began helping you pick up his papers.

“It’s fine I’m just- I’m super late” You spoke quickly, stacking your sketches in your arms messily and in a rushed fashion.  You didn’t even look up at him until he seemed to be staring at the paper in his hands.

“You-you drew this? Wow” He said in amazement, but you snatched it away.

“That’s what y/n does here” Tony said, not being able to take the awkward tension anymore and scooping up most of your papers in his hands and giving them to you.  “Geez are these all Wanda’s?” He asked you as you held what was probably a hundred designs in your arms.

“Yeah, yep, I didn’t know what exactly she was looking for she just said something new, so..” You trailed off, trying to straighten out and align all of the papers in your arms.  You shot a glance over at the boy who had picked up his box, full of typical teenage boy items.  Until you looked more curiously and could tell instantly he was  a very studious boy.  “You must be Spider-Man?”

“Parker Pete- Peter Parker.  I’m Peter Parker that-that’s me” He stammered, making you send a goody glance at your father before looking back to the boy that seemed your age.  He had adorable puppy brown eyes and the same colored curls on his head.  He was adorable, cute, it was the only thing you could think of for a moment.

“Well hello Parker Pete” You said with a small laugh as you stuck your hand out while carefully maneuvering your stack of papers.  “I’m y/n” You introduced while he shook your hand, a bit too long but you didn’t really want to pull away either.

“She’s also my daughter, and off limits, so let’s keep walking” Tony said, grabbing Peter by the shoulders and steering him away.

“Wha- she-you have- you’re his-” Peter couldn’t even get a full sentence out as Tony directed him farther away from you, leaving you to stand in the hall and watch in amusement as your father dragged the poor boy away.

“Bye Parker Pete!” You called before heading off to Wanda’s room.

You liked Peter Parker.  He was a stuttering, adorkable mess.

[ i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you / take me back to the night we met ]

You were sat at the kitchen breakfast bar, sketching away as always.  Sometimes you just liked changing your setting.  Working in the lab could get loud, or stuffy, and it was good to have a little change of scenery.  Plus, the best things happened in the kitchen.

For instance, right now, everyone was trying to arm wrestle Steve.  Which was a very amusing sight to watch.  Currently, Natasha was flexing her arms trying to prepare herself for what everyone knew would be a failure.

“What’re you working on?” You heard a familiar voice, and turned to see Peter slipping onto the high chair next to you.  You smiled at him almost instinctively.  He’d been living at the facility for a week now, and at this point you were pretty good friends.  Being the same age really did help, seeing you were both the youngest ones there.

“Hopefully a new bow for Clint” You told him, showing him your design.  “I’m hoping he won’t break this one” You added with a chuckle.  Peter stared at the paper, genuine interest on his features.  You loved that about him, even for the simple things he always admired your work like it was the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

“Neat” He said, still staring at it even as you slid it back to your part of the tabletop.  “What’s uh… what’s happening over there?” He nodded off to where Steve was dangerously close to slamming Nat’s hand on the table.  You were a little worried about the Black Widow’s well being, but even more so for the table.  It wouldn’t be the first time Steve had broken the dinner table over an arm wrestling tournament.

“Steve’s daring people to arm wrestle him” You said, watching them again, just as Natasha lost.  She groaned in frustration, shaking out her sore hand.  “He only does it when Tony’s not around to scold him for it”

“Scold him?” Peter asked curiously.

“He usually breaks stuff.  Tables, vases, bones” Peter’s eyes widened with fear, making you chuckle.

“Calm down Spider-Boy, he won’t attack you” You said, putting your hand unconsciously on his forearm.  “It’s just a little competition he likes to do to show off.  No one’s ever beat him” You shrugged.  “Kinda like how Thor tests us to lift his hammer, we all know that thing won’t budge, but we try anyways” You said.  Peter’s eyes were trained on Steve and Wanda’s current match.  You took his distracted moment to admire his features, his starry eyes, gelled but soft looking hair, thin pink lips.  You smiled at him, and only then noticed your hand resting on him.  You removed it quickly, busying yourself with your design again.

“Hey new kid!” You perked up once more when you heard Steve’s voice ring out, catching Peter’s attention.

“M-me?” Peter pointed to himself, unsure if the Captain America was talking to him or not.  You giggled to yourself quietly.

“Yeah you, you wanna try and go a round?” He asked.  Your eyes went from gleaming to wide with worry in a matter of seconds.

“Peter you don’t have-”

“Yeah sure” Peter shrugged before you could give him a way out of it.  You watched as he hopped to the ground and walked over to the opposite side of the table as Steve.  All of your focus was on the two.  Sure, Steve would never heart him on purpose but Peter wasn’t like the other avengers, he was sixteen, and you were worried he’d get his arm broken or something.  You stared as their hands latched together, neither of them doing anything yet.  “Look, I-I just wanna say sorry about like- attacking you at that airport” Peter said, and you blushed slightly at his cute awkwardness.  Apologizing for the fight, no one had really done that yet.  Most of you just tried to look past it.

“Yeah, no hard feelings” Steve winked, and like that, you could see their arms struggling slightly as they put all their strength into it.  Your lips parted slightly when you realized Peter wasn’t losing.  He was actually doing really well, completely focused on Steve’s arm.  “Wow kid, you got quite a grip” Steve commented, and you could hear the struggle in his voice.

Well that was new.

“But hey, I’m still the strongest one here” Steve said, slamming the kid’s hand down onto the table.  Peter sighed, shaking his hand just as Nat had earlier.  You clapped while the others began to leave the room, tired of Steve’s party games.

“Wow! Parker Pete!” You rushed over to him and hugged him before thinking about it.  “Just- wow” You laughed, and Peter gave a short laugh with you, rubbing his now aching hand.  “No one’s ever done that before! Just how strong are you?” You asked him, and his face went red.

“I-I don’t know” He stammered out, and you hugged him again.  You felt him slowly wrap his arms around your waist, tugging you a little closer as he held you.  It was quiet for a moment, and your heart began fluttering as you lingered there together.  Somehow, it wasn’t just a hug, and you could both feel it.

“Hey hey hey, watch the hands there” You sighed quietly when Tony came in, pointing accusingly at the both of you, and you pulled away from Peter.  “Break it up” He said, snapping his fingers as he went to the fridge for a bottle of beer.

“Peter almost beat Steve at arm wrestling” You bragged, trying to ease up your father’s current mood.

“God dammit I told him no more of those” He grumbled, heading back out of the kitchen, the popped his head back in.  “Break it up!” He called loudly again.  “Both of you! Separate rooms pronto!” You rolled your eyes as he left, but squeezed a hand on Peter’s wrist before gathering your materials from the counter.

“Night Parker Pete” You said sweetly, then headed out the door and towards the elevator.  Peter slumped onto one of the chairs, staring at the doorway you just exited.

“Goodnight y/n” He said to himself.

“You like her?” He heard an accented voice and turned to see Wanda standing there.  The boy’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest, he hadn’t even realized there was another way into this room.  “Yes?” She questioned after not having received an answer.

“Yea-yeah I mean yeah y/n.. y/n’s great she’s a great-amazing friend” He said, all the while nodding his head and blushing like a fool.  Wanda chuckled, using her powers to snatch an orange off the counter, but opted to use her nails to peel it.

“I can read minds” She told him.  “I know you like her” She told him, winking a brown eye.  Peter opened his mouth but no words came out for a few moments.

“I… she’s great” He told her, unsure of what he could say.

“You also think she’s beautiful” Wanda continued, putting a slide of the fruit into her mouth.

“Well I-”

“Are we discussing Peter Parker’s feelings towards miss Stark?”

Peter fell of his chair, definitely not having expected Vision to simply face through the wall of the kitchen, joining the conversation abruptly.  Wanda nodded as she chewed, and Peter attempted to stand and straighten out his sweater.

“Well I think it’s… pleasing” Vision said.

“Pl-pleasing?” Peter stuttered.

“Yes, it is nice to think of you becoming romantically involved with miss Stark” He said with a nod of his head.  Peter’s eyes widened with fear.

“No, no no no no, y/n and I-I we- we aren’t- she’s my friend”

“Yes, and Wanda is my friend” Vision said, and the witch’s head snapped towards him.  “But that is no barrier to love”

Peter almost fell just from standing up.  He could feel his knees wobbling and his heart was pounding incredibly fast in his chest.

“Vizh…” Wanda said slowly, coming over and putting a hand on the android’s arm.  “Let’s go talk” She said, and he nodded again, allowing her to guide him out of the room.  “But if you want my advice,” Wanda turned to Peter before she could fully leave the kitchen.  “Go for it, y/n looks at you a lot, the way… the way I remember Pietro looking at his love” Wanda said.  Peter couldn’t even find the right words to say before she left the room.

Shortly after, he went running out, making his way as quickly as he could to the weight room.  It was nearing ten o’clock, but he needed a stress relief, and working out seemed much better than sitting in his room with his anxiety all pent up.

He practically burst through the doors, not even noting Steve dragging a punching bag to it’s hook as he tore his sweater off, leaving him in a tee shirt and khakis.  Not really the best chosen attire to work out in, but he didn’t care.  He needed to… to run, to punch something.  He stepped up onto the treadmill, setting it on a higher setting before just sprinting.  Racing over the spinning rubber sheet until sweat dripped down his forehead.

“Kid? Hey Parker?” Steve called, catching Peter’s attention but he didn’t stop running.  “You aren’t stress running cause I kicked your ass earlier right?” He asked, and Peter shook his head, his breathing ragged as he put the treadmill on a higher setting.  “Alright, then why are you stress running?”

“I’m not stress running” Peter grunted.

“Yes you are.  Why?” Steve said, his voice stern so that he’d open up to him.  Peter let out a sigh, but was still reluctant to stop running.

“Because” He huffed.  “I’m in love… with y/n… and she’s Tony’s daughter… and doesn’t like me back… deserves better than me anyways” He said in between sharp intakes of breath.  Steve chuckled, putting his hands on his hips.

“Alright, alright turn that off you’re gonna kill yourself” He said, and Peter didn’t even argue, just slowed it down before stopping it completely.  “Listen closely to me, alright?” Peter nodded shakily, and stepped down off the treadmill.

He walked over to Steve, and they sat down together on a bench.

“I’m going to tell you a story about a woman named Peggy Carter”

[ i don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you / oh, take me back to the night we met ]

You had just slipped out of your room, checking to make sure the halls were clear as you walked as lightly as possible down the hallway towards the kitchen.  You hadn’t changed into pajamas like usual, still wearing your simple white dress from earlier that night.  But you didn’t mind, you were just happy to finally be able to sneak out.  Earlier than you usually do, it was midnight and you often waited for one am to roll around but you were too eager to escape to your happy place.

After tiptoeing down the stairs, opting not to use the elevator because it made noise, you snuck into the kitchen, quickly and carefully closing the door behind you.  Even though it and the walls secluding it were glass windows.  You were a creature of habit.

“What’re you doing here?” You spun around, about to kick the owner of the sudden voice in the throat, but be caught your ankle.

“Peter?” You lowered your leg, smoothing out your skirt.  “What’re you doing? It’s late” He gave you a look before laughing.

“Well I can basically say the same thing” He said, and you blushed, looking down for a moment.

“I… I come here at night when everyone’s asleep.  It’s my way of sneaking out” You said with half a shrug.  “It was a secret until now” Peter’s face fell, and he could feel his stomach dropped.

Oh my god I ruined her special place for her

“No worries” You said with a soft smile.  “I’m happy you’re the first I can share it with” You told him, and began to walk off to the living area, in front of all the windows.  Peter scurried off after you, walking awkwardly with his hands behind his back as you were staring outside.  He looked over at you, awestruck by the way the moonlight reflected on your features, making parts of your dress look like it was glowing, but others hidden in a shadow.  “So Parker Pete,” You said with a smile as you turned your head to look at him.  “What’re you doing out here so late?”

“I- I was just… sitting” He answered lamely, making you chuckle and roll your eyes a little.

“Okay, but why sit in the kitchen in the middle of the night? Don’t you want your rest?”

“M-my rest?” You shrugged.

“I don’t know.  Everyone around here falls asleep so early when my Dad’s not throwing some big party” You told him.

“Does he have parties a lot?” You crinkled your nose and bopped your head side to side as if to say so so.  

“Not as much as he used to.  Now it’s just the small group of us, playing music, eating lots of food, dancing, it’s nice.  A good reason to dress up and have fun but kick back from the stress” You told him.  “I guess I like it better than they used to be.  Loud, lots of drunks.  I remember hiding in my room inside my closet until my mom would come kiss me goodnight and tell me he was shooing people out” You chuckled a little, leaning closer to the window and tapping your fingers lightly against the glass to a made up beat.

“As a rebellious teen, do you want more parties?” Peter asked, mocking a reporter’s voice and making you laugh, shooting him a quick glance.

“I wouldn’t call myself rebellious, but that doesn’t mean I’m a total rule follower” You said.  “For the daughter of Tony Stark, I think that says a lot about my adoption” You said jokingly.

“I didn’t know that” He said, stepping closer to you.  He wanted to look out the window, enjoy the view as you were, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.

“Yeah you can’t really tell unless you look close enough.  We’re really close” Peter smiled gently.

“That’s good” You nodded.

“Yeah… to me he really is my Dad, I don’t go out of my way to use the term ‘adopted’ it doesn’t bother me by any means, he’s just more to me than that.  Pepper too, but she’s the busy one nowadays” You told him.  “Anyways, that’s my life story you wanna share now?”

“Uh, it’s sorta messy” He said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.  You shook your head, brushing it off.

“I don’t mind.  I’d like to hear it Parker Pete” He chuckled, and licked his lips while he thought of what to say.

“Well, uhm, my parents were killed” He said, clearing his throat.  “In a hijacked plane crash when I was seven… and uh… I’ve been living with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben since then” He told you, avoiding your eyes.  “And not long after I.. well became Spider-Man uh…”

You noticed the way he was kicking his feet into the carpet, a nervous habit, and your heart began to sink as sadness washed over your features.

“My-my Uncle he- he got shot because of me” Your eyes widened and you moved closer to him, your back to the window now and completely abandoning the view you loved as you stared up at Peter with crinkled brows and big wet eyes.  Your hand reached out to grab his without a second thought.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault Peter” You whispered, but he shook his head.

“No, no if I’d just been honest with him and had been back to him on time like I said I would he- I would’ve-” You placed your other hand against his cheek, turning his head up to look at you.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pete” You told him softly, keeping your voice steady.  “And I promise if he could see you now, he’d be so incredibly proud of you and all you’ve done” You saw his lips quirk up for a short moment, and you smiled at him.  “I’ve known you for all of a week and I am” You said, and his heart surely stopped in his chest, only to speed up again.

“Thanks, y/n” He said, and you nodded, dropping your hand from his face but kept your hands latched at your side.  “He would’ve liked you” He told you, and for some reason it made your cheeks heat up in a pink blush.

“Really?” Peter smiled as he nodded.

“Yeah, you’d remind him of May I’m sure” A giggle slipped past your lips before you could stop it.  Why did this make you all bubbly?

“Am I like her?” You asked, and Peter pursed his lips.

“You’ve got the same attitude but secret softie thing going on” You quirked up an eyebrow.

“I’m not a softie, I used to be out on that battlefield you know” You told him, crossing your arms over your chest as you’d released his hand.

“Really?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes and smirking playfully.  “Because you were all worried earlier when I was going to arm wrestle Captain America” You jaw dropped open at him.

“Oh really? Say that to my excellent combat skills” You said with a wink.

“Excellent combat skills?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Uh huh, only reason I’m not out there is cause someone’s gotta make your spandex onesie” Peter looked at you with an offended expression.

“It’s not-!” He groaned, throwing his arms down at his sides.  You let out a laugh and shook your head.

“I don’t know… I mean, I designed it I think I know a onesie when I make one” You told him.  Peter opened his mouth and closed it a few times, and you began to laugh again, your smile bright and your eyes twinkling with delight.  Peter couldn’t even keep up his facade of a straight face.  “Alright, alright, what else? What do I and May Parker have in common?”

“I don’t know, uh, she used to dance with him all the time, when I was little they’d dance around to his old record player” You smiled at him, and bounced a little on your bare feet.  “What? What?” Peter asked as you just kept laughing and bouncing.

“Come on come on” You tugged on his hands, pulling him closer eagerly, and planting his palms on your waist.

“You want to dance with me?” He asked like he didn’t even believe it.  But you nodded, your grin still present as you crossed your wrists behind his neck.

“Yeah” You said, beginning to bite back your smile.

“I-I don’t have my phone so I don’t have any like-like music or anything” You shrugged your shoulders and noted how he panicked a little.

“It’s fine, we don’t really need it” You told him, and you gave him a comforting smile.  “Calm down Peter, it’s just me” You said.

How ironic, he thought.

“Why’s it ironic?” You asked, and Peter’s eyes filled with fear at the realization that he’d said it out loud.  He didn’t say anything at first, his brain still turning and his heart beating impossibly faster than it already was.  You could tell that he was nervous, so you rested your forehead on his chest so that he didn’t have to look at you.  “Peter?” You called when you didn’t hear any answer from him.

“Sorry I-I didn’t know what to say you uh y-you make me nervous” You pulled away, looking up at him with surprised eyes and raised brows.

“I do?” You asked, taken aback by the confession.  Peter nodded, looking from his feet to you and partially wishing that he could drop dead right this moment.

But then you smiled at him, an airy laugh coming from your lips.

“You make me nervous sometimes too Parker Pete” You told him, and a small smile pulled on his mouth, his face red.

“R-really I-I-I do?” He stuttered, and you nodded.  Peter let out a small chuckle, looking down again before back up to you.  You nodded again, your bottom lip tucked slightly between your teeth.  He let out a small laugh, really just a puff of air.

“Why do I? I’m not mean to you am I?” You asked, chuckling quietly and he did too, shaking his head.

“No, no not at all you’re-you’re nice, very nice- to me! To me anyways I’ve seen you have at it with Clint” You laughed again.

“We don’t fight it’s just banter” You told him, shaking your head dismissively and wringing your hands behind his neck.  “Well?” You said softly, still waiting for his answer.

“Well.. uh… well you see you’re very good at what you do- v-very talented” He started anxiously, and the swaying that has been your dancing, halted.  “And-and I think you’re really beautiful” Your cheeks flushed red as you bit back a grin.

“Really?”

“Y-yeah well yeah” Peter said simply.  “And you’re- you’re a genius I mean you’ve got this capability to work with Dr Banner, and you’re my age I-I’d say that’s pretty neat” You let out a soft giggle, your eyes wide with adoration for this boy in front of you.  “Truth is y/n I… I like you, a lot, as-as more than a friend” Your heart stopped in your chest.

“I like you too Peter Parker” You whispered out softly.  I smile quirked on his lips, that turned into a grin within seconds.  You caught his eyes flicker down to your lips, and you licked over them subconsciously.  Your hands slid to his shoulders, resting at the base of his neck and you stepped ever so slightly closer.  His eyes kept looking from you to your lips, over and over and it made you chuckle.  “Well are you gonna kiss me or not?” You mumbled, your stomach flipping over repeatedly.

“Not! He is most definitely not!” You sprung away from Peter, your back and head hitting the window.  “Parker what the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Peter spun around to see your Dad standing there, his arms crossed angrily.

“I-I uh I-”

“y/n, go to your room it’s time for bed” He said, his tone frustrated.

“Dad I’m not six you can’t send me-”

“Bed” He gritted and you stood a little straighter.  You nodded your head, and looked to Peter quickly, waving a short and quick goodbye and rushing out of the room.

[ when you had not touched me yet / oh, take me back to the night we met ]

Peter was pacing in the hallways, contemplating whether or not he should go  back to his own quarters, like Mr Stark had so… kindly… told him to.  Or if he should knock on your door.

He liked you, that part was obvious now.  He liked you so much it hurt to not be with you.  If he’d known what love felt like, he could almost say he was in love with you.  He could sit down and talk to you all day about anything, he could go to sleep at night wishing he’d had just five more minutes.

Maybe if you weren’t Tony’s daughter, maybe if the entire team of Avengers weren’t standing guard over you, like they were all your protective older brothers, he would’ve told you sooner.  Maybe.  Peter Parker was never one for having confidence, in fact, before the suit, he was the shy nerdy kid that no one really knew the name of.  He wasn’t popular, or very out going by any means, but ever since Spider-Man, he had a higher self esteem, pushed himself more.

And he really, really liked you.

So, he knocked.

[ Take me back to the night we met ]

“Peter?” You said quietly as you opened your door.  You had changed into a tee shirt and sleep shorts for bed, your hair hanging down in loose waves hanging over your shoulders.  You wrapped your arms over your chest, trying to preserve the warmth you’d lost when you got out of bed.  “Hey what’re you doing he-” You were cut off when his hands flew out, cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips against his.  While at first you were surprised, you sunk into it instantly and wrapped your arms around his neck, completely melting against him.

When he pulled away you were a smiling blushing mess and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m sorry”

“Why?” You chuckled.  “I mean, I’m not apologizing” You said again, and he smiled back at you.

“I just- might not get the chance to do that again” He said, and you nodded, biting down on your lips slightly.  “So-so I had to… just once” You nodded.

“Yeah I… I’m glad you did” You said softly.  He hugged you before saying goodnight.

You would both be okay.

idk the ending makes me feel eh :/ it’s been a long couple of days so i’m sorry about this but this is for @high-functioning-fangirl02 bc of our love for parker pete

(update: the link for the dress didn’t work so here it is)

[tumblunni]

I had such a weirdly detailed dream!

I remember feeling convinced this was a videogame, and like it had an aesthetic like a mixture of The Bouncer and Parasite Eve? There were a bunch of characters who could all turn into some sort of super form, and I just remember that all the ladies looked super similar and boringly sexualized and one was named Candy. And also i think one of them could turn into a 80s punk style dinosaur man? The gameplay was some sort of thing where I was playing a leader or strategist or something, and I didnt actually get to see any of the battles but just picked various teams to send off to fight different threats and then it played out automatically. It was just more about time management cos certain teams could defeat certain enemies faster.

I had the general sense that my protagonist was quite heartless and sarcastic, but also that there was no consequences if someone died. Like... we were fighting alien kaiju things, and we all had the same powers as them. And we were some sort of government experiment to create controllable aliens who could fight the aliens? But then we weren’t really just humans with the alien powers, we were some sort of.. like.. framework robots..??? We looked like those posing mannequins you use in art, except plastic/metal instead of wood. So like it was a situation where all the ‘characters’ were sorta costumes we put on? For some reason in order to use various powers we had to download some sort of ‘life data’ of various human characters, and then inhabit their personality and stuff. I think all these ‘characters’ were people who were part of the original experiment to create us, and they all died and we were the only successful experiments. But I don’t know if we were robots or if like we were once human too and suffered a complete erasure of identity into like.. full alien but just capable of sentience and understanding human language, and under the control of the human troops thanks to microchips or something. So probably all the kaijus were also these weird living metal mannequins too? And like their monster forms were.. ships?? They could also ‘wear’ various shapeshifts, and these big scary ones were like their equivelant of military warships. The stolen shapes of other alien species who could survive in the vaccuum of space, like trophies of their conquest of that other planet..

Anyway so we were a lil crew of strange mannequin people! And like any of us could become any of the ‘characters’, and we’d take turns and stuff. And tease each other for not playing them right, and swap tips on how to use punk guy’s powers and etc. It was like we were living a game. But also I think we really believed we were that person while we had them ‘installed’? Even if we all sorta interpreted each person differently based on our real personalities as the robot alien things. So like the punk guy would be really confused why he has a bunch of conflicting memories of all his previous lives, and like ‘man i used to like this ice cream flavour last week why did I completely forget that??’ Tho I think it was like at first we were lucid and knew who we were and then getting overwhelmed by the human personality was a bad sign from staying transformed too long. And we all had different stats in how long we could transform before that happened? And it was like a bad status effect cos that person would freak out and start acting weird or disobeying orders. Like punk dude running away from the battlefield and trying to find his still-living girlfriend and then the HUGE DEPRESSINGNESS of when it actually happened! Cos like ‘you’re not acting like him, you look like him but you’re not him’ and then being SO CONVINCED that you’re him, and you try and remember something to prove it but you just... can’t?? And she’s saying you’re dead and you were part of some experiment?? I just recall a really sad scene of someone who was 100% convinced they were human getting some sort of gash on their arm and seeing nothing but white metal, and then tearing off their own face to find nothing else but a blank mirrorlike orb. And the rest of the party found them all curled up in the corner of the bathroom half-transformed and like.. still making sobbing noises, all glitched up through their speakers, even though they didnt have any eyes to cry with. And then like all the human higher ups would just be mad at you for causing a scene, and making them have to explain to the girlfriend that her boyfriend had donated his corpse to science and this was just a machine using his parts, and then having to pay her off to keep it secret. So no sympathy whatsoever for the poor alien robot people who were suffering huge PTSD from having to switch identities so often. Being shoved full of someone else’s memories and having to come back from that over and over again, and remember what they really were...

So like.. all the mannequin people had formed a very close little family to support each other through all this hell. And they all still had sort of an aspect of innocence even though some of them were older models than others and took parental roles in the group. They tried to just think of the whole thing as a game and make Relateable Jokes about how punk guy’s range stat is terrible, so they could deal with the whole thing. And they also tried to see it as like.. secondary to their happy family life. Just a job that they had to do to keep food on the table. And they tried to only make the older models do it, and spare the newbies as much as possible. Which caused some conflict cos at least one of the kids was all ‘waaah but i wanna fight, i wanna be a hero, i wanna prove myself!’, not fully understanding the horror of it all. Maybe they were the one who had that freakout with the girlfriend? And I think they lived in some sort of old abandoned house that they were renovating into a liveable space. Tho they were robot alien mannequin things so they could live comfortably there even before they fixed it up, they just really wanted to pretend that they were a regular normal family. Reading all this stuff in books they’d scrounged from trashcans, and idealizing the concept of humanity...

But then the protagonist leader character was really cynical and hated all this, and kept being like ‘focus on the mission!’ and stuff. It would really wound their ego if they could realize the blatant truth that they were only promoted to leader because they were the most obedient and manipulateable... And then like the actual content of the dream was about some sort of day where there were too many alien attacks at once, and all of them had to suit up, even the kids. And like they’d already lost a bunch of the ‘characters’ in battle, and everyone was having to switch between forms over and over and getting really worn out both mentally and physically. And they were all getting pissed off at leader protagonist guy, cos apparantly they’d never actually gone out to fight in battle before? Like a ‘I’m too important, I need to stay behind’ ego thing. But then today they finally broke down and confessed that they were terrified of shapeshifting and losing their identity, and it was like a really vunerable moment of such an unapproachable asshole and the moment where they really became part of the family. And i think there might have been something about the leader bot being ‘defective’ and having human memories even before using any of the ‘characters’? Like they were born already remembering being one of the scientists who created these creatures. The first person who was used as a prototype experiment, the forbidden ‘secret character’... Like.. even though they were android things they also had some sort of biological element inside their core, alien cells that were necessary to run the whole thing. And all the ‘characters’ were humans who died in the experiments to try and give these powers to humans, before the scientists gave up and started making artificial people who could use these powers instead. But like they used the dead bodies of the failed experiments sorta as petri dishes? They had to cultivate more of the alien material if they were gonna build an alien from scratch. And this particular android was made from an alien core extracted from the first prototype- that one scientist who was dying of cancer and volunteered himself as an experiment. Apparantly something actually went right in that failed attempt, and the scientist’s soul or conciousness was successfully transferred into the alien core. He survived even if his body decayed away, and while they thought they were just injecting the spark into a machine to acivate it, they actually brought him back to life. ....or this is just a machine mafunctioning because the core was defective. Leader guy is really terrified of shapeshifting because he doesnt know which answer is true. He’s scared of finding out that his memories aren’t real, if all these fake memories end up feeling exactly the same as them. Maybe they’d just fall away as easy as sand through an hourglass, and then nothing would be left except the life he leads today. And he’s not as optimistic as the others, he can’t believe that they could ever make a ‘real family’, let alone someday defeat all the aliens and get to be free. I mean the humans will probably just execute the android division after the job is done... And all the other androids hug him as he sobs and assure him that even if he isn’t human he’s still a person, he’s still real, he’s still their beloved grandpa, yknow?

And then he finally used his powers and went some sort of super form out of Love Power, and kicked all the alien ass and saved the day! But the dream ended before I got any answer as to whether the ghost of that scientist within his soul was actually real or not. I’m sure he’d be okay either way, though.

[vvienersoldier]

Prototype

A/N: “Present” is before Civil War, after Age of Ultron. During some scenes, I went a little off-script, just to keep things moving along.

Pairing: Tony Stark x reader (eventually)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries, lil angsty

Word Count: 1,594

Prototype, pt. 1

Summary: Being the older twin, (Y/N) Rogers always has to go first to make sure it’s safe for Stevie. When the pair meet Dr. Abraham Erskine, that doesn’t change, especially when he informs them of his plans for Steve.  Being the prototype isn’t always what it’s cut out to be though, which she learns when she falls into the wrong hands.

New York CIty, 1943

Standing in the middle of the World Exposition with your slim arm linked through Steve’s own scrawny one, you couldn’t help but feel immensely overwhelmed by all the sights. You’d only agreed to this for Steve, who’d only agreed, in turn, for his best pal, Bucky, who was conveniently absent, probably off somewhere with his girl of the day. You didn’t hate Bucky, but you felt protective of Steve, especially when Bucky set Steve up on blind double dates that always led to disaster. You’d never tell Steve, but you felt like Bucky dragged his self-esteem down, especially since he’d just informed Steve that he was leaving for Europe, and had practically guilted the both of you into coming along with him to the World Expo.

You knew Bucky meant well, but you could see from that far away look in your brother’s eyes that he was going to be brooding for the next few days, locking himself away in his room with only his own self-depreciating thoughts and art supplies to keep him company. 

You both nearly jumped out of your skin as Bucky made an appearance with his and Steve’s dates on his arms, beckoning you both to watch Howard Stark’s presentation with him. Arriving a little late to the scene, you and Steve had to weave through the crowds until you got to the front where you could both see. Crying out in amazement as the car’s tires left the ground, after a short introduction from Stark, you reached for Steve, only to find your arm flailing through open air. 

Taking a sharp breath, you whirled around, spotting your twin’s small, trench coated figure slinking towards Uncle Sam’s accusing glare. You were about to tell Bucky where you were going, before deciding to just go on your own. Grumbling under your breath, you shoved through the crowd in an entirely unladylike fashion, earning curses, before racing to the recruitment tent. You stormed in, giving the front desk attendant a glare as he asked you if you were lost, to which you replied an emphatic no, followed by a demand for your brother’s whereabouts. You knew Steve would be mortified by your behavior, but he was the nice twin. You were the twin who stepped on toes, not caring about keeping up a submissive, soft facade, at least not where your brother was concerned. 

“Ah, miss (Y/N),” you heard a calm German accent call out, “your brother said to expect you to be here demanding for him.” He chuckled, before waving you to come with him, probably to wherever Steve was. 

“I am Dr. Abraham Erskine, and your brother has agreed to be a part of an experiment to help us with the war.” He informed you as you entered the curtained of area where Steve was waiting. 

“Steven Gr-” you started, only to be cut off by Steve.

“(Y/N), please, this is my chance to be something. You don’t even know what his offer is,” he pleaded, the stubborn set to his jaw telling you he wasn’t going to give in this time.

Blowing out a puff of air, you wiped a hand over your face, staring up at him stonily, a silent promise of a talk later, before turning to look up at the doctor. 

“Whatever he’s doing, I’m doing first,” you stated firmly, your tone leaving no room for objections, “I’m healthier than him. If he’s going to do something stupid, I’m going first to make sure it won’t kill him.” You finished, planting your hands on your hips. Sure, you weren’t much stronger than him physically, but you didn’t get sick nearly as much, and you were the older twin. It was up to you to go first, to make sure Steve wasn’t going to get hurt. That’s how it always had been, for as long as you could both remember.

 Steve wanted to climb the tallest tree in the corner lot to see the Brooklyn bridge, you’d gone up first to test the branches.

 Steve wanted to try out the bike him and Buck had found in the alleyway, you sat perched on the handlebars to make sure he wouldn’t get hurt if he squeezed the front brake handle instead of the back brake (which he did, causing you to both topple over the front wheel, knocking out your wiggly front tooth).

 Steve wanted to try the rope swing overhanging the river by your house when you were both seven, you went first to make sure the rope wouldn’t break. Sure, you’d scraped your leg and gotten a nasty scar from the deal, but if it was Stevie who’d gotten hurt, the poor kid would’ve probably broken his leg clean off. 

Bucky had always been there, of course, yelling at the both of you to say out of trouble. You being you, you’d told him not to boss you around, but back then, you’d only given him lip because you’d had a crush on him; Steve was just too stubborn, even as a child, to not do the stupid things he’d already set his mind on. 

After you had both been examined by nurses, you’d both been approved for enlistment, making you wonder what the man had in mind for the two of you. You looked over at Steve, with his folder clutched so tight that it was turning his knuckles white, like he was expecting someone to snatch the file from him. 

Walking out of the tent side by side, you could tell Steve was practically vibrating with excitement, and you knew he was doing all that he could to keep himself from scampering off in search of Bucky to share the news. 

The rest of that night, the two of you couldn’t help but come up with fantastical speculations over what would be done to you, with the theories becoming so ridiculous that you’d both barely noticed Bucky’s presence with the girls, causing Steve to exclaim the good news to him, whilst you bristled, your good mood cut in half as you saw Steve’s ‘date’ with a thinly veiled sneer on her smudged lips. 

“Hey, Don, your lipstick is smudged,” you pointed out, slipping into an innocent act, pretending you were too obtuse to figure out why it was smudged, “did’ya wipe it on accident when you were all getting milkshakes?”

You grunted softly as you felt Steve sharp elbow jab into your side, but you didn’t drop your guileless expression. 

“It’s Dot, (Y/N). Don’t be jealous just because I was kissing James and you weren’t,” the taller girl sniped, before realizing her slip and turning an unflattering shade of red.

“Oh, no, no, I’m not jealous. I thought your date for the night was Stevie, though?” You frowned, arching a brow up at her. Before you could turn the girl even darker red, Bucky stepped in, explaining that he needed to see you and Steve home, before wishing the two crestfallen girls a good night. 

“You’re an ass, Jame Barnes.” You hissed once the three of you were out of earshot. “Do you only think of yourself? Do you not realize that setting Steve up with one of your devotees was a dumb idea?” You seethed, stopping and whirling to glare daggers up at him, causing him to take a step back.

“(Y/N), you can’t protect Steve from life, you know that, right? He’s got to be his own person, just Steve Rogers, not (Y/N)’s twin brother Steve Rogers. Let the guy experience life, it’s not going to hurt him!” He exclaimed, giving you an equally deadly glare.

“Are you two both forgetting that I have an opinion of my own?” Steve queried, giving them both his signature look of disappointment. “I can choose who I want to be, that’s why I took up Erskine’s deal.” He stated bluntly, looking down to you with a stern face. “I know you want to protect me, but we aren’t always going to be by each other, so I’m going to have to start doing things on my own, even if you can’t try them first to be safe,” he explained, wrapping his skinny arm around your shoulder. “We’ll always be twins, even if we aren’t attached at the hip.” He soothed, seeing your eyes start to fill with tears.

Before he finished his spiel, he turned to Bucky. “And I know you want me to have more friends, pal, but we both know I’m not a looker, and I’m okay with waiting for the right girl to come along. But she won’t be one of your girls, they love you too much.”

At his words, you felt a small pang in your chest, and absentmindedly reached up to rub over your heart. You didn’t really know what that feeling meant, but you most  definitely did not have feelings for James Buchanan Barnes. Your childhood days were over, he didn’t tugs on girls’ ponytails to tell them he liked them, he just showed them how much he liked them. A small wave of envy went through you, and you shoved it down quick. You didn’t need a fella to show you how much he loved you, you had Steve, and he had you and Buck, and you were both happy with that, even if you weren’t always thrilled with Bucky being in the situation. 

You three were your own little crooked family, and you all knew that even your dislike for Bucky’s lady habits couldn’t pull the three of you apart.

Part 2

Masterlist

*if you want to be tagged in this or any other story, message me and let me know.

[binesetakeout]

Oh man this is finally done, this time it was the information update that was killing me- Basic info is here, Prisma’s brief history, skins, quotes, etc. are under the cut!

[B A S I C – I N F O R M A T I O N ]

Name: Margarette Jackson

Callsign: Prisma

Nicknames: Mags, Pris, Magpie

Age: 26

Height: 5’ 1”

Gender: Demigirl (they/she)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Race: Chinese

Languages: English, Spanish, a little Chinese

[ H I S T O R Y ]

Prisma grew up during Overwatch’s golden days, they had always dreamed of becoming a hero like in the vids, but the organization was shut down during their high school years, prompting them to take a path towards art school

They used to have someone they’d call a sister to look up to during their first two years of college, but a falling out between the two left Prisma devastated and confused about what they really wanted.

Their heartbreak only continued with the death of their mother and brother in a car accident. Emotionally numb with grief and loss, they dropped out of art school to live with their Aunt Jill.

For 6 years Jill and Mags took care of the old family farmhouse in Indiana*, until an old friend, or rather ghost, of Jill’s paid a visit, telling them of the recall to Overwatch.

With only a rusty few years of martial arts and a few chemical paintball prototypes Prisma, Jill, and Soldier 76, found their way to Gibraltar and the New Overwatch family.

*some details make more sense with Jill’s background which is incomplete

[ R E L A T I O N S ]

Jill: The Mom™, Jill picked Prisma up onto their feet after dropping out of college and losing their mom and brother. She constantly worries about them and will fight anyone for them

Soldier 76: The Dad™, Jack Morrison was Prisma’s hero as a kid, and 76 is no different in their eyes, even if meeting their childhood hero isn’t quite what they imagined.

Lúcio: Prisma’s boyfriend. They had zero idea who he was prior to meeting but quickly they both warmed up to each other and bonded closely.

Reaper: The Edgy Dad, he keeps them sharp with their Spanish, he’s also a good match for their occasional snarky attitude.

McCree: The coolest uncle, they sing bad duets of bad country songs together and generally have a Good Time™ together

Hanzo: Prisma’s most relatable friend/ally, they’ve both done things that they have yet to forgive themselves for but are healing together. Plus, they probably gossip over tea

[ A B I L I T I E S ]

Bio-Shooter [1]: A blaster that can heal (yellow) or buff (blue) allies or damage (red) enemies. Toggle colors with the scroll wheel

Staff [2]: Prisma has a melee weapon that does more damage to the enemy team than the blaster, but they can’t heal while using it

Spray Paint [E]: Prisma sprays their enemy with paint and temporarily blinds them

Paint Splatter [L SHIFT]: Prisma throws paint down on the ground causing their enemies who walk into it to slide in the direction they’re going without being able to change course or stop.

Vandalize [Q]: Prisma’s ult is their staff wielded in twirling motions, they deal more damage with it and give nearby allies small health and power boosts

[ Q U O T E S ]

Spawn in quote: “Aww yea! Let’s paint the town red!”

Changing hero quote: “Prisma here!”/”Better late than never!”

Voice lines:

“No I will not draw you” [Default]

“I’m here to paint a better future for this world!”

“I’m Blue da ba dee da ba daa~”

“I’m still learning”

“Now you see me, now you don’t!”

“You uncultured swine!”

“Green… is a creative color”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”

“Green and yellow don’t make blue...”

“Breathe deep breath slow!” [Summer Games]

“Don’t scare me, I’m fragile!” [Halloween]

“Brrr... We need to make some hot cocoa” [Holiday]

“Xīnnián kuàilè!” [Lunar New Year]

Eliminations:

“Sorry! We’re still friends right?”

“Well that just happened”

“Take that!”

“Some dads are not your dad” (Enemy Soldier 76)

“Cowboy time is over” (Enemy McCree)

“Ah sorry Lu!” (Enemy Lucio)

Respawn

“That could have gone better”

“’I need healing they said’, ‘I’m at critical health’ they said”

“Hm, I’m sure I can do better than that”

“Patience yields focus or something like that”

“Hang on I’m coming!!”

Escorting the Payload

“Look at me! I’m on the payload alone again!”

“I need help moving this thing!”

“One payload on its way!”

Interactions:

Jill #1: “You have everything you need? Ammo? Visor charged? You ate something before this right? Do you need-“

Prisma: “Aw come on, Jill I’m not a kid!”

Jill #2:  Prisma: “I’m an adult! I can take care of myself!”

Jill: “Last night you were crying because you couldn’t preheat the oven to make pizza rolls”

Soldier 76:  “Watch yourself out there, kid.”

Prisma: “Okay dad!- I mean yes sir- I mean… 76….”

Reaper:  “¿Qué miras pequeñita?

Prisma: “Su actitud mala”

Lucio: “So you doing anything later, Pris? Wanna catch a movie?”

Prisma: “It’s a date!”

[ E M O T E S ]

Sketch: Pulls out a sketchbook a sketches a bit and looks proud then puts it away

Ouch: Twirls their staff, but accidentally hits themselves in the head with it

Rad: Fills in the outline on their visor to emanate B) and does finger guns

Break Time: One leg outstretched, the other bent as they lean back on their hands

Easily amused: Laughing so hard no noise comes out until they bring a hand to their face and burst into giggling

[ H I G H L I G H T – I N T R O S ]

Sliding in: Dumps out a bucket of paint and slides in closer to the camera, smiling and pointing their blaster at the camera

Gotcha!: Shoots red, blue, and yellow paint at the camera, leaving an area clean and bending down to wave through the open area.

Finger Guns: Looking at something in the distance before smirking and throwing finger guns towards the camera

Calligraphy: Painting Chinese character for luck on the screen [Lunar New Year]

[ S K I N S ]

Common: Magenta - Haze - Sky - Lime

Epic: Savior - Pastel - Magpie

Legendary: WIP

[ F U N F A C T S ]

Their visor does not have an aim assist, they’re ‘tactical glasses’

Prisma has anxiety and depression, some of the work with Overwatch has helped them overcome some symptoms of both mental illnesses.

Prisma’s father was an agent for the original Overwatch, but was killed in his last mission

Painting with acrylics is their favorite art medium, their favorite art style being impressionism

Conversely, they hate oil pastels, and surreal art is their least favorite art movement.

They are adopted, their father took them in as a baby after finding them on a mission. Prisma’s brother however is biologically related to their parents.