#finally updated tho !!!

[totallynotcensorship]

credit to motaz azaiza

[leenfiend]

what's ur type first < prev next >

[peachfruitcake]

From late November

[mspaint-flower]

hi new selfie

[somerandomdudelmao]

this is so bad that people are asking you when your comic updates are so they can sleep.

Yall really SHOULDN'T do that, its messed up, im just speaking from my standpoint but hearing stuff like that i wouldn't even Want to update anymore or announce wips or anything with all this "when is it coming out? can i sleep? can i do this? is it coming out soon?" i mean asking for WIPS of the comic seems fine but asking when its coming out bc its affecting you is wild. and not good. imagine what type of stress that is on a person to know that people arent taking care of themselves until the comic comes out.

idk it feels like some of yall dont know how to act. this comic is a passion project if anything. it just seems. so unhealthy and offputting to deal with this from an audience. idk.

:т

[noxious-fennec]

A redraw of an old thing because exam season is the only time i get creative energy ig

[fizzytoo]

catndog gfs (pepper & sam) w @buttertrait🐱🐶

[pybun]

meet the sentinel

[spamsandsuch]

i cant stop giggling

[distant-velleity]

TRANSMIGRATOR’S GUIDE TO: Yuhua Wei

A “good student,” a “good friend,” a nobody. From that, to the voluntold assistant of Divus Crewel, stuck in the world of Twisted Wonderland where magic and arrogance run rampant.

This is the story of Yuhua Wei, another “Yuu” among many.

You’ve probably never heard of him, or maybe you have. Either way, this new and improved guide will give you a way to start getting to know him!

Below is more information about our self-saving scum protagonist~

PERSONALITY

Yuhua’s outward persona can change depending on who he is with: you could call him a people-pleaser. Around staff and certain upperclassmen, he is respectful and earnest. Around close friends, he is a bit more outspoken and brash, but also playful and encouraging. Around strangers, he is meek but affable when spoken to. So on and so forth. However, the degree to which he speaks his mind is varied—you could compare him to a nesting doll. Always removing or adding a layer that hides his true self, whatever that may be.

He also possesses a manipulative side, which is part of why he tries to appeal to people: so that if he needs to, he can use favorable opinions of him to make his life more convenient. Emphasizing his helplessness or weakness when he cannot do something himself; complaining so someone will take notice of a problem…

Of course, Yuhua would rather not stand out—it would be too much for his insecure, introverted self and too inconvenient. The practical part of him believes that being a polite, respectful side character is the role the universe has decided for him. However, he isn’t above what some would consider slightly immoral. After all, he always adapts to his audience, and in the villains’ world, one must do as the villains do.

ABILITIES

System: The strange aid that Yuhua was given upon transmigrating. It appears in the form of holographic floating screens that only he can see, and makes the world of Twisted Wonderland seem like a mix between a game and reality. The main story books and events are considered to be “missions” for him.

It allows him to check his status, relationships with others, their opinions of him, and possess a hammerspace inventory with more items than he could physically carry.

It also has a strange function regarding memories…

Potions: The System, plus tutelage under has allowed Yuhua to unlock the recipes to and make a vast array of potions, such as healing ones. He mainly uses these during battles.

TRIVIA

Much like how the teachers have their own uniforms, Yuhua also has his own magic-enforced “dorm uniform.” It seems to take inspiration from a Far East fairytale, where a young maiden was aided by her late mother in the form of a beautiful, golden carp. Yuhua wears a locket that is enchanted to switch him into his dorm uniform when he opens it.

He typically wears what looks like the standard school uniform, because 1) it goes under his labcoat in the classroom due to safety procedures, and 2) it makes him stand out less.

Floyd calls him “Koi.” Other students will frequently refer to him as “the TA” or “Crewel’s TA.” His more commonly-used nickname is “Yu.”

Inspirations: Cinderella, Ye Xian, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, etc.

———

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@boopshoops @skriblee-ksk @scint1llat3 @nemisisnemi @nyx-of-night

[diadoescomics]

Recent Work

It just be like that sometimes buddy

[machinegrl]

miren & miso 🙎🏻‍♀️🐈‍⬛

[too-many-lavellans]

Kieva

Runaway, Inquisition Agent Saarebas

[robiinurheart33]

Haha wouldn’t it be so weird if when soap was taken and brainwashed he was constantly being compared to this soldier named “ghost” haha

Anyways explicit descriptions of psychological torture and violent intrusive thoughts under the cut

He would be beaten and berated constantly. why wasn’t he stronger than ghost, why wasn’t he faster, more skilled, better, stealthier, healthier.

Ghost could’ve done better in worse conditions.

Ghost has done better in worse conditions.

Why was soap not better even after all this?

It drove him up the wall, the way he would wonder who he was, seething and bleeding by the lip. After all that he’s gone though, all that he’s endured, everything.

Why wasn’t be better? Why can he never, ever be better?

They drove his sanity to the ground, spat and kicked at it until there was nothing but a shell of who he once was, and rebuilt it to fit their ideals. Soap couldn’t remember who he was before this, before the experiments. He couldn’t think, do, say anything without being ordered to do so by someone else.

Some days, soap would pull on the thin stripe down his scalp, eager to find some semblance of control over himself, even if it were pain. He would always get punished.

“It was the only thing he can and will recognise him by.”

“Ghost likes that on you.”

It made him hate the Mohawk even more.

He hates Ghost. He was sick of it. He was done waiting. He was done being compared to. He was done with being second to him. He wanted to pull him apart limb from limb, feel the hot blood spill over his teeth and he rips his throat apart, hear the sickening crunch of his neck being twisted, feel the smooth muscle of his skin ripple and tremble in fear of the one that he was supposedly supposed to be stronger than. Soap will never, ever get anything else in his life but the pure, white-hot rage of revenge. He maybe thinks this had lingered on since he was younger, before everything. It felt like an old friend, more so than his other emotions.

His first mission.

He will be better. He will be better. He will be the best. He will be good. This might be his only shot. This is. He will be the best. He will succeed. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail.

He runs into ghost.

At first, he didn’t know who he was. Soap was in a room with a few others, guns up and masks drawn, ready to shoot anyone who tries to come into the room. They had been infiltrated, and soap wasn’t told more than that. He didn’t really need to know more. Shoot the hostiles, keep people safe. Suddenly, bullets start to rain from outside the door, and soon enough, more and more bodies start hitting the floor. Soap does not panic. He hides behind a bookshelf, waiting.

A big ass motherfucker in a skull mask walks into the room and it looks like the shadows are warping to his presence. Soap does not panic. He reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh, flicking it up and holding it ready. He waits patiently until he stalks near the bookshelf, tightening his grip on the knife. They make eye contact, and through the skull mask stained with blood, he can see jet black eyes staring at him in shock. Death incarnate. Soap does not panic.

“Joh-”

Soap quickly slips out of his hiding spot, wrapping a forearm over his neck and attempting to jab the knife right into his socket. He feels a hand grip tightly onto his forearm, and he goes weightless. All the air escapes his lungs as his back slams against the floor, his head spinning. He screams at himself to get up, fight, be better, before he hears the familiar crackle of a radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

Ghost.

This is Ghost.

Ghost just fucking flipped him.

Soap does not panic. He does not panic but he feels a chill go down his spine as he sees red, scrambling back up onto his feet. The adrenaline starts to kick in now, and he lunges at him, ripping the radio off his vest and slamming it on the floor. He’s not completely sure why he did that, but in all fairness soap feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind, if his captors haven’t done so already. He punches Ghost, wincing slightly as his knuckle hit the cheekbone corner of his stupid skull mask. Soap starts to reach for his gun before Ghost punches back, hitting the mask clean off his face, pushing his back to the floor, one hand on his wrists. Soap starts to get really agitated now. After everything that he’s gone through, he’s still not good enough to beat ghost. He still hasn’t improved. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He makes eye contact with Ghost and is slightly taken aback when he is reflected with an equally crazed stare.

“Johnny.”

What the fuck?

Soap doesn’t say anything. Ghost’s eyes are brown, not black. Why hasn’t be killed him yet? Why isn’t Soap struggling? Ghost has blonde eyelashes.

“Where have you been?” To soap’s absolute horror, those brown eyes start to become glossy. He flinches back as if he’s been hit, and grits his teeth. No shit, he’s been here the whole time, where else is he supposed to be?

Soap surges forward and headbutts him in hopes of him letting go. He doesn’t, and it makes soap all the more dizzier, more frustrated. Why isn’t he fucking dead already? He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get his mind right.

“Johnny. Johnny.” Can he just shut the fuck up? It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate for some reason. Shit. He feels overly exposed without the mask, feeling his body temperature rising steadily.

“Stop calling me that!” he growls out, twisting out of his grip and punching his across the face. The twisted skull mask looks almost comical out of place, but he can still see those eyes. Ghost’s hand comes to cup his cheek, and soap flinches back. His eyes look like Soap just mauled his puppy right in front of him. It makes him freeze in place, head awkwardly hovering between the floor and Ghost.

Images of blood spilling and needles, dirt and coffins fill his head, the sound of a neck snapping, gagging, screams and whimpers. Hands on him, eyes on him, never letting go. Stay. Soap snaps back into place, grabbing the mask and twisting it up, covering Ghost’s eyes. He quickly gets his other hand free and pushes ghost off him, sprinting out of the room.

“Wait-!” Is all he hears before flying down the corridor, back to safety, back to where it’s familiar, where he always is, where he always will be.

Loyalty has always been Soap’s best trait.

[thatwonpersons]

guess who’s back with an actual artstyle :333

geno and error sans by lover of piggies

reaper sans by renrink

[superbellsubways]

new WMM ref yayyy (blows up)