#chop to it writers

[significant-ace-nnoyance]

"the way they killed medusa was stupid" "using the hat to kill medusa was dumb" that's because this show isn't written for action and blood and gore its written for STORYTELLERS ofc the "fight with medusa" wasn't epic and bloody that would defeat the whole point INSTEAD it was symbolic and set up narrative arcs. it was annabeth passing on the invisibility her mother cursed her with to a woman who was cursed never to be seen. it was paralleling the original perseus myth where he uses the helm of darkness alongside his shield and shoes from athena and hermes. it was setting up the conflict between percy and annabeth about giving up the hat and making annabeth suffer an emotional loss to go on with the quest versus imposing the consequences of medusa's story and tragedy on the gods themselves.

imagine watching a scene where annabeth increasingly gets defensive and 12-year-old lashing out with "but my mother is always just" "that isn't how the story goes" and "you're a LIAR" imagine watching the air go out of the room as "i'm a survivor" "i was you" "i would have been content to worship her for a lifetime... in silence" medusa breaks her calm demeanor at having her story erased once more imagine watching annabeth appear out of nowhere and make medusa disappear with the powers that athena granted her so that a son of poseidon can murder her and your main thought being "awwwww but i wanted it to be more epicccccc i wanted blood and gore and decapitationnnnnn" imagine missing the whole point of the entire percy jackson series that bad

[speakviolence]

WHERE are the cooper howard fanfics

[finn0cchio]

Im so sick. So very sick [coff coff] whatever can i do, now that i am bedridden like a victorian child that has contracted tuberculosis? I do not have something to read... oh whatever shall i do? If only there was someone... a community, perhaps... willing to write some zukaang fluff for this poor and humble peasant.... oh curse this disgraceful illness.... curse my sad sad life.....

[spinning-stars]

Chop Top: "pssssttttttt, y/n look under the covers"

Y/n : why?

Chop top: Just do it

[entomolog-t]

Bite Me - Chapter 10

What is this? Highschool musical?

June stress cleans, and Aedes stresses.

Pumped out another promptober prompt!! Glipse

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias

- - - -

Previous Chapter : Chapter 9

Next Chapter: Chapter 11

Word count: 2520

CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, mild depictions of anxiety

As if a passenger in her own mind, June watches her actions playing out before her as her mind hums, buzzing with thoughts of the night- thoughts of Aedes. The shock of realization, the way he moved both too fast and too rigid. She remembers his voice, silky smooth and deep- how it cracked as he begged her to stop. She grimaces as she remembers the fear so clear on his face- and how deeply she desired it. 

As her hands numbly move from task to task her thoughts seem to ebb and flow- at times, however briefly, placated by the monotony of cleaning. At first it was easy- she made her bed, picked up discarded clothing, and straightened the various contents of her desk. Yet, as her room became more and more tidy, she became desperate to find more tasks to occupy her mind. 

She rearranged her plants, switching their positions from her desk to the shelves to the window sill. 

Play with me, my human

She optimized the layout of her room, moving her laundry basket right beside her dresser to keep things thematically consistent- to find a logical flow. Or so she told herself. There had to be some reason- some excuse to think about anything other than him. 

Indulge your delusion

His words seemed to echo in her mind and June found herself craving more stimulating tasks to busy herself- to quiet her mind. To quiet him. 

So she continued on. The guitar should go near the desk, not the stand mirror.  The rug looks better at the side of the bed, not the foot of it.  Maybe the bed should face the other way? 

June sighs. 

This was getting ridiculous. 

Looking at the space in front of her, her room was as meticulously kept as it had ever been. Immaculate by her standards, and yet the thoughts of him persisted. Her lips drew into a tight line. How could they not? Everything about the night was so far beyond her realm of normalcy she hadn’t even initially believed it herself. 

Even now she found herself full of questions and doubts. The reality she was apparently living in felt inconsistent with the reality she’d always known. Why was he so small? How could vampires exist- what even constituted a vampire? Was he immortal? Or was he just some guy who drank blood? Two lines of thought thrashed against one another, competing for her attention. Logic, alight with curiosity, demanded answers, while the more empathetic part of her wanted a conclusion- needed an apology to be heard, a way to show him she was sorry.

Each question seemed to compete for her attention, growing louder and more desperate as she shoved them to the back of her mind while simultaneously shoving book after book back into her bookcase. Though she meandered about in silence her thoughts were loud. Unbelievably so- as if they were drowning out all actual sound. Her mind was loud- but she could be louder. 

A song, gentle and familiar, starts to form on her tongue. 

I fall to pieces

Each time I see you again

The notes felt smooth in a way it was hard to describe. Smooth in a way that seemed to soften the sharpness in her mind, as if the softness of the song could dull the edge of her emotions. The melody a soothing balm on her agitated mind. 

I fall to pieces

How can I be just your friend?

The tangle of thoughts that constricted around her mind seemed to relax, coming undone as though the song pulled just the right thread to untangle the mass, pulling the thoughts further and further from her, as if sending them floating away on her melody. 

You want me to act like we've never kissed

And yet, for as placating as it was… something felt off. June couldn't shake the thought that something was amiss- an unsettling undercurrent lingered just beneath the shallow tranquility of the song. A particular unease seemed to creep at the edges of her mind. Not a foreboding dread, but instead something lighter, almost like deja vu, as if it was something she should have known- The feeling of forgetting something but not being sure what; The feeling of pulling a loose thread only to unravel a crucial stitch…

You want me to forget 

Pretend we've never met

As she sang she felt as thoughts, abstract and formless, seemed to shift in the back of her mind. As if the words of her song had breathed life into something dormant lurking in her subconscious. The words were familiar, yet not, taking on an enigmatic allure-  as if they held secrets she ought to have known. With each lyric that escaped her lips, a subtle transformation occurred, as though the music itself was a conduit, channeling something she felt compelled piece together. 

And I've tried and I've tried

But I haven't yet

Movement out of the corner of her eye catches June’s gaze

All at once, her heart stops and the gears that were futility catching finally seem to clunk into place. Aedes… he hadn’t left.

You walk by and I fall to pieces

I fall to pieces

The lyrics became a prophecy to unfold, as June falls to pieces. The words barely register in her mind, her lips numbly singing the words as her eyes stay locked on him for the longest second of her life. Something in her feels as though it crumbles. She’d sung the song countless times, and yet it was as if she’d never known it. The words seemed to resonate in more than just her chest. Her very being shaking under the resonance, it was as if she’d unlocked a new understanding- a whole new song. The words hadn’t changed, neither did the notes. It was something in her. 

June looks away, feigning that she was looking at something just near enough, but not him. Heart beating wildly in her chest she desperately fought to keep her face as neutral as possible. How could she bring herself to look at him after all that she'd done…

He… he was still here…

He hadn’t left…

June felt a lightness in her chest. Like a flower pushing up through the concrete, a small fragment of hope seemed to bloom from within her. 

Should she- 

No. She dismissed the idea before it could fully form. She’d done enough damage. 

But maybe she could make it right if she just- 

June chews her lip.

Just what was she supposed to do? Just waltz up and say ‘Hey I’m really sorry for scaring you- it's just that you being terrified really turned me on and I kinda thought you were into it’ ??

Embarrassment hot on her face, June flops to her bed, wishing she could just scream into her pillow, but the awareness that she had company forced her to keep some sort of decorum. Instead she reaches for her nightstand, pulling out the relic that was her childhood mp3 player. 

God, she wanted to make this right. 

He hadn’t left yet… maybe she still could. 

---

Aedes' heart seems to jump in his chest as for the briefest of moments he is once again trapped in her stare- captive in her overwhelming gaze. 

Or… not? 

She moves on, still singing that enchanting melody. 

He releases a breath, his body all at once relaxing. She hadn’t seen him. 

Slowly, he backs away. He’d been stupid. He’d nearly gotten himself caught, and for what? To watch some natural disaster of a woman sing? He sighed, making his way back to the far corner beneath the dresser. 

He could have sworn they’d locked eyes… 

A part of him, as terrified as he was, almost wished they had.

Her song finishes, fading off into a melodious hum as he hears her settle on her bed.

Something felt off-

No, not felt- sounded.

While his spike of bloodlust had abated for now, his ears could still pick up the faint sound of her heart beating in the distance.

It was fast.

Far too fast for someone laying down.

Fuck.

She had seen him hadn't she? But she hadn't said a thing- she hadn't even made a move in his direction…

Was she just waiting for her chance- wanting to catch him off guard? 

He scowled. That didn't make sense. He was cornered. If she wanted to catch him she absolutely could.

The sound of her movement makes him jolt- nearly thwacking his head off the low cover of the dresser. He watches with his heart in his throat as she pads away from the bed and towards her closet, rummaging around in boxes she had moments ago neatly stacked away. His eyes follow her as she moves to sit at her desk- back to him. 

He swallowed. 

She wasn’t acting like it but he couldn’t shake the suspicion she had seen him. He frowned, not fond of staying in the spot where she had glimpsed him. He needed a better spot, and thankfully he had quite literally been delivered one. The freshly placed laundry bin perfectly covered the once bare space between the dresser and standing mirror. Carefully, Aedes made his way out from underneath the dresser, squeezing himself between the wicker laundry bin and the wall. 

Nothing. 

She continued to sit at her desk, idling fiddling with something. 

Aedes frowns. 

While entering the window and getting to the bed had been a quick and easy drop, the same couldn’t be said for the way back up. With no headboard to the bed Aedes found himself eyeing her desk as the only means to scale back up the window sill. 

With her back still turned, Aedes darts from the laundry bin to the mirror- peaking back to see the human still occupied at her desk. She hummed softly to herself as she sat hunched over something, her scale and his relative angle completely obscuring whatever it was that had her focus. 

Aedes sighed. Whatever it was that she was doing, he didn’t get the impression she’d be moving on anytime soon. He let him slump back against a large potted plant that sat decoratively beside the mirror. The cool ceramic felt nice against his skin. He felt his body once again start to relax, the sudden heaviness of exhaustion finally hitting him, as if he only now was bearing his full weight. 

Once again, he was back to waiting. 

Waiting for her to open the window.

Waiting for her to leave the room. 

Waiting to get away. 

The sun cast the room in a smothering warmth. Cozy, yet too much. Her hum droned on in the distance, with the occasional odd sound of her fiddling at her desk. Even in this relative calmness, the light of day was still so busy. Aedes found himself longing for the night- a cool breeze and fresh air. Peace and tranquility and freedom. He couldn’t wait to leave. To feel the crunch of dirt under his boots. The tall grass providing cover as he searched for something to feed on. A dark sky above him, stars bright and clear- the compelling song of a heart beat singing in his ears even more clear- Crystalline. A soft wordless melody filling him with vigor- resonating in his chest. The blood, sweet on his tongue, filling him with a hazy warmth. A cozy warmth. Enveloped in soft hands. Lips on his stomach. Her inaudible whispers hushed against his chest. What was she saying? He couldn’t hear her over the sound of her heart beating. Thunder in ears. So loud he could feel it- a vibration shaking him. The floor trembled beneath him

The… floor?

Aedes jolts awake.

His breath catching in his throat as her steps shake the floor. Fuck. 

He scrambles to his feet, peaking around from the cover of the plant.

There she was, in all her magnitude, walking straight towards the dresser. His throat tightened as she knelt down. 

No. 

She had seen him. 

Fuck. 

Was she looking for him?

He held his breath, heart slamming against his chest as his body tensed, preparing to run the second she turned her attention his way. 

Only- she didn’t. 

She knelt for only a moment, and then moved on- standing up and exiting the room, a soft hum fading into the distance as she left. She hadn’t reached under the dresser, hadn’t even looked. Aedes felt as his brows knit together. She had left something. A small vaguely rectangular shape sat just beneath the dresser. 

He swallowed. There was no denying it. She had seen him. She knew he was here. 

So just what was she doing?

His eyes flicked from the strange rectangle back to the door. She had left. the air around him felt lighter. More crisp, as if the tension of her presence left some kind of haze. His relief however, was short lived, as he attention was brought back to the window- still closed. 

Trapped. 

She wasn’t even here and he was still trapped. 

He drags his hands along the length of his face, frustration building. Think. There had to be something he could do in the meantime- someway he could move himself closer to escape. 

His eyes flicked back to the rectangle- curiosity gnawing at his focus. 

His eyes, adjusted to the daylight in the room, couldn’t quite make out what she’d left under the dresser with it obscured in the heavy contrast of shadow. The whole thing felt off, like a trick or some sort of trap, yet off in the distance he could still hear her, however faintly, humming to herself. 

Aedes scowls, eyes narrowing as he tentatively moves back toward the dresser, ready to sprint away in a second notice should he hear her return. 

Drawing closer, he makes out more details; black, soft edges, folds. Aedes’ frown deepens. The more he saw, the less sure he was of what exactly he was looking at. 

Was it… fabric?

He nudges the folded fabric with his foot- nothing feeling amiss, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for.  

Aedes pauses for a moment, considering if he should touch it- the weight of the action sitting heavy in his mind. She had left this for him clearly, in taking this he was essentially confirming that he was here…

But there was no harm in looking, right?

As he lifts it up, the fabric unfurls, and for a moment, Aedes isn’t quite sure what exactly he’s looking at. He would have thought it a blanket if it wasn’t for the strange way it hung from his hands- stitched together at seemingly random points. He turns the fabric this way and that, trying to figure out how it was supposed to be oriented. His eyes fall to something pinning two points of the fabric together - a silver stud. 

Aedes blinks, some part of his mind seeming to recognize the shape.

His heart freezes in his chest as the familiarity dawns on him,recollection drawing his face into a deep scowl.

A cloak.

[lonleydweller]

yandere alphabet for chop top please??

🥀Yandere Alphabet-Chop Top Sawyer🥀

THANK YOU THANK YOU PATTING YOU ON THE HEAD ANON HE'S BEEN INFECTING MY HEAD ALONG WITH NUBBINS

!Warnings!: yandere trope, spoilers for Tcm2, stalking, obsessive behavior, violence, murder, manipulation, cannibalism, sadism, mentioned violence towards darling, forced affection, threats

Yanderes are OK in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not example of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. This is for entertainment purposes

-----------------------------------------------------

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He's very intense when it comes to showing affection. Always all over you, grabbing at you, always needing to touch you in some way. The very few times when he's not he's pacing around rambling about how much he loves and admires you. Or he's shoving an item he thinks you'll like in your face, not bothering to clean the bloodstains of the poor victim he snagged it from off.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He's a cannibal. His whole family are cannibals too. Need I say more? Blood, guts, bones, all of it! He's more than happy to kill someone for you! More than happy to try and feed them to you too.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He'll keep you cooped up in his room, giving you basic nessecities. Any cries and protests from you make will be met with smart-ass comments, jokes, or him just giggling at you and making mocking gestures.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Yep, he'll force feed you food that's almost guaranteed to contain human parts, forced acts of affection like hugging and small pecks, cuddling if he feels bold enough to do so.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He's pretty open, often unintentionally, he just rants about whatever is on his mind, sometimes about you, sometimes stories about his brother, existential crises, or sometimes just honest to god nonsense. He isn't one to think before he talks.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He finds it pretty funny. You think that's gonna actually going to get you anywhere? Mocking your attempts, treating it like a game.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It's a game to him. A challenge. Don't think that means he'll go easy on you. He's still trying to keep you from escaping, he'll slash at your legs, your back, trying to incapacitate you. He sees it as a game because he's confident he'll win. Until he's not. That's when he drops his joking attitude.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The whole thing is hell, but there's a few moments that will certainly be burned into your brain. One being the burning feeling on your skin as you were so close to escaping, only for him to wrangle you back into their home.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He's thought of many things. Many little delusions bouncing around in his head. The only thing he has set in stone in his mind is simply having you by his side, hopefully as somepoint willingly.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Very jealous. He'll lash out. Incoming mail! A swift sledgehammer to the person's head!

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He acts like an excited rabid dog. Raving on about how much he adores you, how you're his fave. He likes dragging you around the tunnels of the abandoned amusement park too, showing you off to his brothers. Seeing you as something worthy to brag about.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

I'd barely call it courting. An approach, well, it sure is one. He's very blunt and upfront, just kidnapping you pretty quickly. However if he were to try and court you beforehand it would involve a lot of gift giving.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really. Besides that facts he's more affectionate.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He'll do whatever he knows scares or upsets you, wether it be shouting, showing you a horrific sight, injuring you, taking away what little privileges you may have earned. It also depends on what you did as well.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Essentially all of them. You can earn maybe a few small ones, but major ones are gone.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

His patience can switch on a dime, depends on his mood, the day, and what buttons you press. So I'd say he has a mild amount of patience.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you leave and or escape he's searching everywhere for you, hounding his brothers about it too. Even if it takes him years. If you die.. he won't move on. He won't accept it. He'll keep your corpse and talk to it. Just like he did with Nubbin's body.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

The most he'll ever feel is a tiny bit of pity, but guilt? No and no. He'll never willingly let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

A mix of his childhood and upbringing in the sawyer household along with curiosity.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He finds it cute in a sick way. Using it as an excuse to get pyshcially close to you, under the guise of trying to comfort you. That's what good partners do right? Comfort each other?

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Well, cannibalism.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There's none I can particularly think of. He's practically glued to your side. Only time you could really sneak off is when he's off killing or having a spat with his brothers.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yep, especially if you're trying to escape.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He worships the ground you walk on. He'd go great lengths to keep you. He dosen't care as much for winning you over, but he definitely would still make an effort to do so.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

At most maybe a couple months.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Unintentionally, most likely.

-----------------------------------------------------

[sparklyslug]

No I mean the Avatar live action isn’t overall GOOD but it’s got its moments and it’s not good in interesting ways and I will certainly watch all 8 episodes

Plus I mean the Zuko and Iroh stuff is wonderful and on some level that’s kinda all I need

[mashkara45]

[quick-catton]

true friendship is sitting in a discord call for eight hours, 5k words deep into a one-shot, in the trenches trying to write a bj scene

[ladylaser07]

How I look waiting for one of the two people who post Emerie content to post something new (I literally fully depend on them)

[thepersonalwords]

Hatred is like a Hydra - the more heads one chops off, the stronger it grows.

Andrzej Majewski

[indigosabyss]

I'm a fast writer, I swear. I've only been working on my manuscript for- *checks notes* four years now. Fuck.

[ghostiwrites]

Hello! I’m Ghosti! You may remember me as I used to write slasher fics! Unfortunately my old account got deleted! But I’m back and here to write even more slasher fics mwahaha!!!

Minors DNI!!!

Look here before proceeding <3!

Requests: closed <3

Matchups: closed <3

If you take a peek down here, you can see eveeeeryone I write for <3!

Bubba Sawyer

Nubbins Sawyer

Chop Top Sawyer

Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers (OG & RZ)

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Billy Lenz

Brahms Heelshire

What I will write <3

Character x reader of course!

Platonic/familial parent character and child (aka like what would this slasher be like as a parent, child reader and them taking care of reader, etc etc.)

Fluff

Suggestive material

Drabbles

One shots

Matchups

Masc, Fem or Androg reader

R63 (genderswapped) slashers <3

Headcanons

Just wanna clarify that reader is always automatically gender neutral (you don’t have to include it in your ask) masc, fem and androg are just used for how the reader would present but I will always use they/them for the reader, do not ask for she/her or he/him <3!

What I won’t write </3!

Dubcon or noncon, that’s nasty <3

Incest

Pedophilia

Anything with animals

Gendered readers (aka male reader or female reader)

I hope to see you all requesting soon <33

-Love, America’s Cannibalistic Sweetheart ☆

[the-down-upside-finch]

Trick or treat!

Hello hello!! I shall give you... a treat! 🍭

Here’s a random "snippet" from my WIP, Stained Integrity! I decided to drop a pretty long bit (a king-sized candy bar, if you will), so I'll put it under the cut.

(For one of the many Trick or Treat events!)

(CW: minor violence, mention of blood, mention of death)

“Whatever.” Fluke turned to face Blight. “So, what now? You gonna teach us how’da kill?”

“No.” Blight widened his stance, purposefully putting more weight on his right foot. “We are going to see how long it takes each of you to disarm me.”

“Oh, how fun!” Firetail clapped his hands together, his voice oozing with sarcasm. “And here I was, thinking we were done playing around!”

“You may go first, if you’re so excited,” Blight dryly responded, unsheathing his practice sword and gesturing at the selection of practice weapons that the newcomers could choose from.

“No rules?” Firetail raised an eyebrow.

“You may do anything non-lethal that will not draw blood or render me unconscious.”

“Lovely.” Firetail’s eyes flashed another smirk.

Much to Blight’s surprise, the Morunton selected the rapier.

“You’re a lefty,” Blight observed.

“And what of it?” Firetail coolly responded.

“I also favor my left hand,” Blight said. “But I’ve been equally trained in both, so sometimes I hardly notice which hand I’m using.”

“Fascinating.” Firetail restlessly weighed the sword in his hand.

Blight didn’t bother giving a signal. The trial had already taught the newcomers their first lesson—that no one in the real world waited for a signal.

Firetail immediately went for Blight’s right side, falling for the trap that Blight had set up to take advantage of the Morunton’s observant nature. He was ready for the attack, neatly dodging—and then barely catching himself as he felt something—most likely a foot—connect with the back of his left knee.

He knew the obvious thing to do would be to throw his weight backwards, since he had stumbled forward—so he feinted to the right and then recovered his balance just in time to block Firetail’s grab.

The scuffle lasted longer than Blight would have liked—especially since Firetail’s bladework was frustratingly clean and well-practiced. He should have been able to easily disarm Blight in only a few steps, but it took him nearly five minutes.

But the Elmalian knew exactly what the Morunton was doing.

“I suppose that could have been worse,” Blight remarked, reminding himself to hold his tongue. “Your turn, Ardalian.”

Fluke stepped forward, having chosen a practice dirk as his weapon.

“Bringing a knife to a sword fight, are you?” Firetail chuckled.

“Aye—better watch and learn, foxer.” Fluke sneered.

Blight was more comfortable fighting against daggers than he wanted to admit, thanks to the fact that most outlaws favored smaller weapons and often had at least three in their possession at all times.

Just like Doom had said, Fluke was a dirty fighter. He toyed with Blight for a moment or two before he disarmed him. The fight barely lasted a minute.

“See?” Fluke tossed Blight’s practice sword at his feet. “Told’ja he’s all talk,” he said, jerking his head towards the Morunton.

“Me—all talk!” Firetail threw back his head and laughed. “Tell me, Fluke—do you like to gamble?”

“What’re you on about?” Fluke growled.

“How much shall we bet that I can disarm you in under ten seconds?” Firetail’s eyes flashed with glee.

Fluke glanced at Blight.

“...I’ll allow it,” Blight said, deciding he’d rather test his theory without needing a second fight against Firetail.

“Brill.” Fluke smugly grinned. “Shall we bet your marble?”

Blight almost intervened, but Firetail just laughed.

“And what do I get if I win?” he cheekily asked.

“You’re not gonna ask for my liver?”

“Ardalian livers are too toxic for my taste,” Firetail dismissively said. “I’d rather have some of your energy.”

“Deal.” Fluke stuck out his hand.

Firetail paused, then he politely shook Fluke’s hand—and courteously released his grip before he lunged.

Blight flinched as Fluke hit the floor with a sickening THUD.

“Shall we do best two out of three?” Firetail said.

Fluke went down again in less than three seconds.

Blight uneasily regarded the Morunton, both pleased and disgusted by Firetail’s mind games. He had concealed his true abilities during his fight with Blight, using it as an opportunity to get a reading on his technique. Clearly, he had gotten a decent reading during Fluke’s short fight, as well.

“Don’t worry,” Firetail drawled, putting two fingers under Fluke’s chin. “I’ll wait until after the lesson to claim my reward.”

Fluke jerked away, muttering a string of curse words under his breath.

Enjoy the treat!! 🍭

(Invoking the tag list in case you guys wanna read a really long snippet: @athenswrites, @my-cursed-prince)

[papercutsmp3]

bro is inquisitive

[istherewifiinhell]

banging my head against the wall. does anyone wanna go insane and read TMNT Mirage #37 with me? An emotionally fraught jouney of faith and family and battling for or against your roots of eons past? You should. But if your not in for reading a 40 page comic I have a condensed visual/textual moments and summation for you! You might enjoy it!

[Mirage 37, Rick McCollum and Bill Anderson]

ID: Turtles walking through a forest with full camping bags. Mikey has his mask around his neck and wears a bucket hat: Well..." Raph wears a wide brimmed fedora type hat, he balances one sai by its point on his finger: "You do got a point, buddy." Leo is shadowed in the back with a straw hat. END

[In this comic the turtles are depicted with understated beaks and look lankier than Classic Mirage style. Their skin is usually in the darker of the 2 toners, and their masks are left without toner.]

ID: From behind the group, Don and Mikey in silhouette up front. Behind them, Raph is throwing his sai in the air. Leo is saying "I believe you Don, but... Spiritual meaning? Maybe you're reading too much into it." Close on Don's face, frowning "No, I'm not." END.

[See Donatello: The Ring, in Turtle Soup #2] Here's what you missed: Don went on a spiritual journey by himself. Now he wants them all to experience it.

ID: Three turtles and Splinter in the farm house living room. Raph and Mikey on the couch with books, Leo on the floor polishing his sword. Splinter standing to the side. Raph: Yeah, but Casey's car's on the blink. Mike: I hope its doesn't fall apart while he's out with April. Leo: Don will fix it when he returns. Raph has one leg up, is tossing some shuriken in one hand, his books says "Fun with sai". Mike slouches and has a drink can, his book is "Life of Bruce Lee" END

ID: Three Panels of Don explaining his experience in front of a large fire, fiddling with his bo staff, the flames curl around him as he speaks. A brow raised: But it wasn't the trees- It was one of us! The Father of All Reptiles Looking contemplative: He was a turtle. Or a ghost. Some kind of spirit... With a sheepish smile: And I'm glad I met him. He said I was special... END

Splinter reprimands the other turtles for not taking Don seriously. His lecture:

"Your lack of respect is unbecoming. Have I so failed you that you have no feel for your heritage, your roots? Reptiles ruled this world for uncounted eons, your people strode the land, slipped through the warm seas, and skittered about the sky. Though gone, their blood is your blood. And their spirit should be yours! They are your elders, with their bones left in the rock, lasting forever in the skin of the world. Respect them, and honor their spirits as you do me!" "Recall the time you spent, eons past, with your friend Renet. How you spoke of it once you'd returned! Did you not feel a sense of unity with that time? Did you not resonate to the heart-beat of the archosaurs? Your enthusiasm lingered for weeks."

[See Tales of TMNT 7] They went back in time and met dinosaurs, amongst other things.

ID: Panels with a close up on each character. April in profile, with a solemn look: You babbled on about it for days. Mike smiling wide: Yeah! It was warm! Leo, clutching his sword, looking away: I felt so free! Raph, his mask pushed up to his forehead, an eyes closed smile: Three months of fishing! Don, holding his staff, looking down: Yes, I was... Happy. END

Splinter continues to speak.

"Happiness…Ah, Donatello, it is so ephemeral. As was the time of those reptiles. Everything is a ring, and the ring turns. The world grew cold, small, furry creatures came out of the shadows. The dinosaurs died. The age of mammals began."

Raph, upset, gets disparaging about what the predominance of mammals has done to the earth.

ID: Three panels. Raph, shocked, hand over his mouth: I can't believe I said that. Splinter looming over Raph, who jerks back. Splinter: ~Think~ before~ you~ speak~ Raphael! Raph: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Splinter: Need I remind you that your best friend Casey Jones is a mammal? Close on Raph and April. Splinter off panel: Not to mention myself? Raph: Eep! April grimacing: I'm feeling warm-blooded and hairy also! END

ID: Four panels. Caption box: And look they do— Raph looking at two trees growing diagonally, thinking: I don't even know what I'm looking for. Leo, partially hidden behind foliage, thinking: Something's up. I feel... something. Mike, looking at a tree that's grown a loop in its trunk, thinking: Is this a "spiritual experience?" Don, walking through the trees in silhouette thinking: Why can't I find the place?" END

After a day of searching, they camp, but Mike goes missing during his watch in the night.

ID: Two panels, each showing Raph and Don and they face off and argue, their speech bubbles placed between them. Raph is backed up against a tree, angry, clenching his sais tightly. Don has his bo like a walking stick, and seems calmer.

Raph: Why? Mike needs us! Don, with an irregular speech bubble: Either he is alive or he is dead. The quest is more important. R: What are you talking about? What's wrong with you? D, normal bubble: Nothing. I had a dream last night. If we give up the quest, we've lost. R: Mike is more important! D: That's what the adversary hopes you think. R: What adversary? D, irregular bubble: Have Faith. R: Donatello! D, regular bubble: Remember when you devovled? We kept faith. R, yelling: AAARGH! END

[See Mirage 24-26] Raph was de-mutated into a regular turtle, his brothers had to go on a journey to save him.

ID: Leo, mask off, scowling "This is what we'll do. Break camp. Consolidate our gear. Bury what's left. We're on a combat mission now. We'll keep faith, Don, but--. A narrow panel of Don, drawn small, gripping his staff: What? Leo getting in Don's face, displeased: I hate leaving Mike. -- Just make sure you're right. END

Raph goes missing on their second nights watch, Don becomes stranger and more convicted about this quest.

ID: Leo, furiously, points in the direction of the viewer, accusing Don. "What's with you? Why are you so out of it?! -- What's wrong with your voice? [Larger text] Don't you care about Mike or Raph?! END

ID: Don sits facing away from Leo, gripping his staff, angry, speaking towards his hands. Leo looks on from a ways back, dramatically lit. Don: [Large text] Of course I do! [Normal text] But... I don't know what's wrong with my voice. I don't know who the Adversary is. And yet..." END

ID from alt: Two panels, Leo glaring, getting in Don's face, pointing at his beak, grabbing Don's staff. "Who told you this?" Don has brows raised. Don, with a wincing smile: "The Father of us all." END

ID: Multiple panels. Close on Leo, "Remember what I said about being sure?" Don holding his staff in front of himself, seemingly scared, "Leo, please." Mid on Leo, more neutral frown, "Don..." Full body, Leo turns away, the wind picks up. Leo facing away, pulled back shot. "Let's keep going." END

Narration as they travel further into stranger and stranger territory.

Leonardo: What was to be a relaxing romp has become a grueling death march. Sweating and hacking through the threatening undergrowth, he understands that he is hopelessly lost. As lost as Donatello seems to be, following an Unknown pull, mumbling to somebody only he can hear Donatello: while Leonardo must fight the wild landscape, he slips easily through the thorns. And he listens, and talks. Hair is better than scales? The birds are traitors, having stolen the secret of hot blood? Giants, brought low by small, furry ones? As he pursues the silent beckoning, he learns...

They have a run in with a foe in pitch black forest. They take many hits but score one back, severing one limb, hairy and clawed, then retreat. Don garbs himself in some make shift religious fair, using his blanket, mud and ash. The two sleep, they dream.

And they dream the same dream. They see their blood rise and rule. The ring is turning. The reptiles differentiate, and claim the seas and air. They see their family as it might have become- If the ring hadn't broken. They feel contempt for their children, the birds, as they invade the skies. But it is nothing compared to the fear which the small hairy ones bring. The furry horde had been around since the reptiles beginnings- swarming… unstoppable.

ID: Three panels. Caption Box: The morning brings questions. Leo and Don sit with their backs to a tree. Don's taken his mask off, made a dark markings on his face and body, and wears a hood. Leo: Did you dream-? Don: Yes. Leo looks upset, gestures with a hand in front of himself. "I... felt grief. Anguish. They must be let loose. -- But why? And how?" Don's face is completely shadowed by his hood, his eyes and teeth stick out in far too much detail. It is an unsettling smile. "You're starting to learn." END

Another fight, Don's leg is broken by the mammalian Adversary. Leo, with all the weight of the loss of his brothers, takes position to make a last stand protecting him. But Don urges him to continue on, to find and aid the Father of all Reptiles.

ID: Many panels, Don injured, propped against a tree. Eyes closed in pain he says "Can't you hear?" Leo looks behind them. A strange voice says "Come." Close on Don, crying, yelling at Leo "Go! Please! I have faith in you!" Leo's eyes, frowning. Leo's hand, offering his sword. Leo's eyes, he's crying through his mask. "Take this." Don's hand taking the sword from Leo. Narrow panel, Leo walks away, remaining sword drawn. "Fight well." END

ID: A cut off panel with dialogue, and a close on Leo, framed between two rocks, crying heavily. The says: You have become one with sorrow. You are sad. I am glad. Now we may speak. END

Leo climbs and the conversation continues.

Narration: There are sounds behind him, as he climbs. Voice: Your brother Donatello gave me joy when we met. I thought it would release me from my grief. Narration: Following him as he scampers every higher. Voice: I tried to go. But joy is ephemeral-- Narration: Leonardo reaches the top with haste. Voice: While melancholy lasts forever.

Leo sits at the mountain peak, thinks of his brothers, contemplates the sounds of the Adversary below and the Father of all Reptiles speaks to him more, as he falls into sleep.

This is my nexus, my holy spot. This is my prison, where I am trapped by my sadness. Dream of extinction. Dream of death. Once we were, now we are not. You and yours are what we could have been-- Had not the hairy ones come. All the scaly brethren are my children… But they hairy ones killed them-

Leo wakes slowly to a growl, then all at once with a yelp.

ID: Full page, the Father of all reptiles finishes in a yell. "THEY ATE MY EGGS!" The mammalian Adversary's loud growl just under the speech bubble. It looms in the panel, over Leo at the bottom, his sword drawn. The Adversary, large and rodent like, fur dark, eyes gleaming, foam dripping from its mouth. One arm severed and still bleeding, implanted in it are the weapons from Leo's brothers. Raph's sai in its leg, Mike's nunchaku in the stub of its arm, Don's staff and Leo's other sword in its chest. Other small rodents cling to its form. Surrounding the image, marginalia in the corners. Cracked eggs up top, rodents in the bottom. And a border of text, listing eras, genera and species of or relating to early mammals. END

Leo's brothers, injured, wounds wrapped and broken limbs braced, are following his trail. They see signs in the sky, Mikey thinks it looked like a massive turtle. Don is assured with his faith that this means the Father of All Reptiles is aiding Leo, and that they should rest. Mike and Raph leave him to sit at the mountain base (offering him another weapon for protection), and make their way up.

Narration: At the pinnacle, a warm, fresh breeze wafts downward. The trees below grow normal. Throughout the world, fossil Mesozoic eggs break apart, as fetal reptile souls are let loose. Paleontologists will find no more intact eggs. EVER.

ID: Full page panel, Leo sits at the base of the giant cracked egg of the Father of All Reptiles. Sword dangling, he's exhausted, blood splatters him, his sword, and the mottled surface of the egg shell. The Adversary's head and remaining hand are laying to one side, the dark mass of fur on his other. His brothers cresting the peak see him, and he says "We freed him. The wheel is moving again. The ring is whole." Caption box: And whole, the ring moves on. A Marginalia drawing in the corner shows a small rodent, the front of its body inside the cracked shell of an egg. END