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#i know the drawing is kinda vague at points but i also kinda like that

showtoonzfan · 4 months

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So I wanted to avoid talking about the Alastor Voodoo discourse, (I kinda already did on twitter) but after seeing this thread I couldn’t help but want to give my two cents on it. Putting aside the fact that Rae is a problematic bootlicker regarding Viv and was someone who took part in dismissing her victims/transphobia, I wanted to say that their idea of Alastor being white passing when he was alive COULD work. I spoke with someone who is more educated on this subject than I am, and it actually could be good representation and educate people on the challenges POC had to face due to their history of being slaves and segregated. I actually wouldn’t mind the idea that he came off as more white passing, had to force himself to speak in a different accent for the show business, and that’s the reason he was able to get a job as a radio host in the first place, since he’s mixed.

HOWEVER, it’s upsetting that this thread was created just to excuse and defend Viv’s shitty character designing and silence people who have an issue with it, especially people of color themselves. I’m mixed race as well so it’s ridiculous that Al looks the way he does for a black man, there is no reason for his demon design to not have his ethnic features, it’s as simple as that, stop telling people they shouldn’t be upset about it, the time period has nothing to do with him looking white.

Rae also seems to have a similar issue with the fanbase where they’re inserting her personal headcanons/interpretation of Alastor into the canon show. I have NO idea what they’re going on about in the second tweet because all we know about Alastor is that he has a “moral code” and possibly only goes after bad people, but we don’t know the in depth details yet or anything on how he was murdering while being a radio host, Rae’s just adding stuff that isn’t there to fit their headcanon/idea. They need to realize they’re not a writer of the show, Viv is and we haven’t seen her ideas for Alastor yet, so using a fan theory/interpretation of what you THINK he could be like just to dismiss people’s issues with him is ridiculous. This goes for the entire fanbase as well.

I don’t know why everyone is trying to excuse the fact that he doesn’t look black and defend his voodoo practices. It has nothing to do with the character, it’s the creator that’s the issue. She was the one who decided to make him mix creole, she’s the one who decided to make him practice voodoo and yet she refuses to commit to her decisions, refusing to educate herself on how to fucking draw black people and listen to POC voices on how bad using REAL voodoo symbols are. Now that I think about it, why does Alastor need to be involved in Voodoo at all. Why couldn’t he just be a serial killer radio host. Him practicing voodoo doesn’t add anything to his character, at least yet. With Dr. Facilier it kinda made sense because his voodoo is what turned Naveen into a frog, he made deals with demons to give him these powers and that’s exactly what got him killed in the end. Alastor meanwhile is a deal maker and I guess that’s what made him powerful??? It’s kinda hard to say with Viv’s shitty vague world building, but you could have easily made him a powerful overlord without that.

The point is, these issues with Alastor are on HER, not on the people complaining about it and if these people were fucking normal regarding criticism and feedback, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva critical #anti vivziepop #Hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel Alastor #Alastor

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scribbledghost · 6 months

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Ghost do you have any HCs on Simon's scars?

Also I got dog tags of another Call of Duty character yesterday, but there were Ghost ones and I was tempted.

Boy do I!! (Also I. Have definitely been tempted to get some Ghost dogtags. I have not caved to the temptation. Yet.)

Definitely has a metric ton of them. Between his upbringing, torture, and general time in the military, he's a patchwork at this point.

I do headcanon that there's a large one on his face, running from roughly his chin and up the side of his face up to his ear. It just barely misses his mouth and is only just hidden by his balaclava.

Plenty of round gunshot scars, mostly clustered around his arms and shoulders.

Some larger ones on his back and torso, long jagged ones that resulted from deep lacerations.

Doesn't have a ton on his legs, but there are a couple.

(Also I know it's not a "scar" per se, but you know this man has a ridged nose from where it's been previously broken. I will not accept otherwise.)

As for how he feels about them, he doesn't particularly feel one way or another towards them. Some of the larger ones tend to make him a little stiff and uncomfortable when the weather changes though.

He may be ambivalent towards them, but he doesn't particularly want to draw attention to them, either. Bad memories and all that.

Beyond very vague descriptions, he won't tell his partner where he got them. And I mean very vague.

"Knife. Gunshot. Bigger knife. Screwdriver I think? Can't remember."

"You're awfully casual about the screwdriver."

"Might have been a drill."

He just... doesn't feel like reliving each event. They're in the past, he bears the scars as witness. To Simon, there's really no need to make them anything more than that.

He does get kinda soft if his lover starts paying special attention to them, though.

Just sort of the idea that having that many scars would scare some people off, but not his partner.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

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tangledinink · 5 months

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I love your style and how you utilize halftones and textures and colours. It’s just so tasty! I’m curious if you’d be willing to show a bit of your process on how a comic page comes together?

Ah, thank you! ; w ; And sure, I can try, at least! Usually I start with some kind of a script. Sometimes it's a bit more detailed, like this:

... And other times they look more like this.

It just depends on my mood! But either way, I typically have a pretty good idea in my mind's eye of what the comic is generally going to look like. Once I know what I'm making, I do all the rough sketch pages.

... And then I line it!. For Gemini, I go for a dark blue rather than black 'cause I like the way it feels, and it lends to the overall 'papery' vibe. I usually lay down a grid pattern at this stage, which helps a lot with keeping panels and dialogue straight, and with perspective. I always do the gutters and the words first, then the figures and backgrounds. I been leaning a lot into really heavy shadows recently-- one of my professors in college told me once that a black-and-white comic page should be about 50% black and 50% white, and I've been trying to bring that to the table, lol.

I can ditch the grid at this point, and I put down a really light, pale-gray 'wash' on all the panels. It's a pretty subtle effect, but helps separate the panels from the 'background' of the gutters/negative space, and also just adds texture.

I lay down all the color next. Flat colors first, then a second pass over some parts to add depth/shadow, and then all the spot-colors like Leo's red stripes, light gray eyes, etc.

I use a pretty fine-grain half-tone brush for the background, and then a slightly more defined one (layer set to overlay) on the characters.

Once that's done I go back in and add highlights and such (white shine to eyes, hair, etc.) and go and add light outlines to any areas that need a little help being defined-- like Big Mama's arms and hands, for example.

And then the absolute last step is adding paper grain textures and gradient overlay over the top of everything!

(A lot of the brushes I'm using for this comic I got from True Grit Texture Supply, just by the by for anyone who's curious.)

... With Swanatello I kinda tend to just. Go for it. I (sometimes) start with a vague script and then I just draw it. 🤷🏻‍♂️ No thumbnails, no sketches, no heroes, no gods--

Just Swanatello.

#asks #fidgetwing #i hope this makes sense/is helpful? ; w ; ive never done a lil step by step like this before lol

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zedleaked · 3 months

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[APPARENTLY PEOPLE HERE WANTED TO KNOW THE HUMAN AXIS LORE SO IM JUST GOING TO COPY MY TWITTER POST HERE…] BASIC GIST IS THAT THIS IS JUST A GENERAL HUMAN AU. MONSTERS AND HUMANS SWAPPED. WOWIE!

ANYWAYS READ MORE FOR AXIS

AXIS ORIGIN IS STILL A BIT FUZZY. HERE HE'S LIKE CHUJIN'S ADOPTED SON [GENDER NEUTRAL],, CATGIRLTRICKSTER ON TWITTER SUGGESTED CHUJIN JUST FINDING YOUNG AXIS IN A PIPE OR SOMETHING AND I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY... THOUGH HIS ORIGINS WOULD BE VAGUE. IF ASKED HE'D SAY HE DOESN'T REMEMBER.

ALSO NOTE BEFORE I FORGET. AXIS WAS JUST BORN WITH ONE LEG. THERE IS NO LORE REASON TO WHY ITS MISSING, IT IS JUST THE WAY HE IS. CHUJIN MAKES HIM A ROBOTIC LEG SO HE CAN HAVE AN EASIER TIME.

SURE I COULD GIVE A FUCKED REASON AS TO WHY HE DOESNT HAVE IT BUT I DONT FEEL LIKE IT.

AXIS WOULD BE AN APPRENTICE UNDER CHUJIN SIMILAR TO MARTLET [I NEEDA DRAW MARTLET EVENTUALLY] PLUS IN GAME THERE'S FLAVOR TEXT ABOUT HIM FLIPPING THROUGH THE ROYAL GUARD HANDBOOK IN HIS MIND. HONESTLY. MARTLET AND AXIS BEING FRIENDS THROUGH SHARING THE SAME INTEREST IS SILLY...

HE'D WANT TO TRAIN HIMSELF TO BECOME A ROYAL GUARD OR AT LEAST A PROTECTOR TO PAYBACK CHUJIN FOR TAKING HIM IN. HE'S GOING TO PROTECT HIS FATHER AND HUMANKIND. IT'S HIS BIGGEST GOAL IN LIFE.

STEAMWORKS STILL EXISTS. ITS JUST CHUJIN HADNT BUILT THE AXIS MODELS IN THIS AU BECAUSE. YOU KNOW.

MAYBE HE SAW POTENTIAL IN HUMAN AXIS, SEEING HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO GROW STRONGER AND PROTECT PEOPLE. CHUJIN WOULD WANT HIM TO HONE HIS SKILLS TO BECOME SOMETHING... BIG.

IN A WAY. AXIS WAS A PEEK INTO WHAT HUMANS COULD BECOME AND WHAT THAT COULD DO FOR HUMAN SOCIETY UNDERGROUND.

MEANWHILE AXIS IS ENAMORED BY STEAMWORKS AND JUST CHUJIN'S WORK IN GENERAL. HE REALLY ADMIRES ROBOTS, HE THINKS ABOUT WHAT ITS LIKE IF HE HAD ROBOTIC MODIFICATIONS.

AND LESS LORE RELEVANT BUT HE ALSO HAS CONNECTIONS TO KANAKO TOO! THEY ARE THE SIBLINGS EVER. THOUGH IVE BEEN WONDERING HOW CEROBA NOT KNOWING AXIS IN STEAMWORKS WOULD WORK. IT'D BE KINDA WEIRD FOR CHUJIN TO KEEP A WHOLE ASS CHILD SECRET FROM HER.

THEYVE PROBABLY SEEN EACH OTHER AND NEVER HAD MUCH SIGNIFICANT

INTERACTIONS FOR THEM TO FULLY REMEMBER EACH OTHER. AXIS SPENDS A MAJORITY OF HIS TIME AT STEAMWORKS OR DOING ROYAL GUARD SHIT, AND WHEN HES NOT DOING THAT HES PROBABLY PLAYING WITH KANAKO [WHEN CEROBA ISNT AROUND]

AND WELL. WE HAD TO GET TO THIS PART EVENTUALLY. ONE DAY A MONSTER MAKES ITS WAY INTO THE UNDERGROUND AND STARTED KILLING PEOPLE. DALV [WHO I ALSO NEED TO DRAW] GOT CAUGHT UP IN THE FRAY WHILE PLAYING WITH KANAKO [AND AXIS TOO]. UPON SEEING HIS FRIENDS GET HURT. SOMETHING CLICKS.

AXIS HAD TRAINED UP TO THIS POINT. THIS WAS HIS MOMENT. HE HAD TO SAVE THE PEOPLE FROM THE THREAT IN FRONT OF THEM. INSTINCTS KICK IN AND HE GOES IN TO FIGHT THE MONSTER WHILE DALV TAKES KANAKO TO SAFETY.

THIS MONSTER WAS TOUGH. HE WAS ALMOST KILLED. BUT HE HAD TO PERSEVERE.

SOMETHING JUST ACTIVATED IN HIS SOUL.

HE FELT A SURGE OF POWER. THE ONLY THING HE KNEW IN THAT MOMENT WAS TO.

GET. RID. OF. THE. THREAT.

IN FRONT OF HIM WAS JUST. A HEADLESS BODY THAT SLOWLY FADED INTO DUST.

THAT... HE DIDNT MEAN TO GO THAT FAR.

SIMILAR TO CLOVER IN GENOCIDE, AXIS HAD RAPIDLY LEVELED UP AND SHOT A POWERFUL ATTACK AT THE MONSTER IN RESPONSE TO ALMOST DYING. HE NEEDED TO KEEP GOING NO MATTER WHAT.

STILL. THE CONSEQUENCES OF HIS ACTIONS LAID HEAVY ON HIM.

HE HAD KILLED A LIVING, BREATHING THING.

SOON AFTER CHUJIN WALKED IN ON THE SCENE COMPLETELY HORRIFIED. AXIS, ASHAMED OF WHAT HE HAD DONE RAN TOWARD STEAMWORKS TO ISOLATE HIMSELF, SIMILAR TO DALV.

SURE, HE HAD SAVED PEOPLE FROM THAT MONSTER BUT DID HE HAVE TO BE SO GRUESOME?

CHUJIN RAN AFTER HIM, TRYING TO GET HIM BACK

CHUJIN FINDS HIM AT STEAMWORKS, WALLOWING IN JUST. EVERY EMOTION.

HE TRIES TO COMFORT HIM THOUGH AXIS IS STILL INSISTENT ON NOT GOING OUT.

THE TWO REACHED THE COMPROMISE THAT: AXIS WOULD GUARD AND PROTECT STEAMWORKS AND THAT CHUJIN WOULD CHECK UP ON HIM EVERY NOW AND THEN.

SO THATS WHAT HE DID. HE STAYED AT STEAMWORKS, WATCHING OVER THE PLACE AND ITS ROBOTS FOR….. AGES.

EVENTUALLY CHUJIN'S CHECK UPS GET MORE SPARSE UNTIL JUST. NOTHING.

AXIS NOTICES TOO THAT LESS AND LESS SCIENTISTS ARE PRESENT AT STEAMWORKS. UNTIL THERE IS NO ONE THERE.

WHEN ASKED IF HE WAS GOING TO LEAVE

TOO HE SAID

"NO. MY FATHER AND I HAD REACHED THE AGREEMENT THAT I WOULD STAY AND PATROL THIS AREA, AND THAT I WILL DO." THERE WAS NO CONVINCING HIM TO LEAVE. SO THE OTHERS RELUCTANTLY LEFT HIM BE.

DAY BY DAY HE WATCHES STEAMWORKS FLOOD AND DECAY. WHILE HE STAYS THERE TRYING TO KEEP UP THE AGREEMENT BETWEEN HIS FATHER AND HIMSELF.

NO ONE HAD TOLD HIM.

ONE DAY THOUGH HE FINDS THAT STEAMWORKS SUDDENLY ACTIVATES RIGHT BEFORE SEEING A MONSTER ONCE AGAIN.

OH HE REMEMBERS THE PAST WELL. IN THIS AU IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE FOR HIM TO GET HIS MEMORY ERASED.

WHILE THE EVENTS PLAY OUT MOSTLY THE SAME COMPARED TO NORMAL UTY.

AXIS SEEMS MORE HESITANT THAN USUAL. AND PROBABLY MONOLOGUING A LITTLE SIMILAR TO WHAT DALV DOES

BEING A HUMAN. HE POSES LESS OF A THREAT ON HIS OWN. HOWEVER. MY GUY SETS UP HOME ALONE TYPE TRAPS N SHIT TO TRY AND CATCH CLOVER INSTEAD [PART OF HIS ROYAL GUARD TRAINING!!.

ONLY RESORTING TO USING "ROBOTIC MODIFICATIONS" HE HAD FOUND WHEN CLOVER REALLY [ticks] HIM OFF.

AND YES. HE STILL GETS A ROBOT SPOUSE IF A PACIFIST PLAYTHROUGH HAPPENS. HUMAN AXIS IS OBJECTUM. ITS REAL.

SO YEAH THAT IS ALL THE THINGS I THINK.

HOLY SHIT THIS THREAD IS LONG. FEW PEOPLE WILL READ THIS I THINK BUT I STILL WANTED TO GET STUPID AU THOUGHTS OUT. UH. YEAH HOPE THAT IS GOOD OR SMTH.. FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS 🥺

#undertale yellow #undertale yellow spoilera #uty #axis #axis 014 #axis undertale yellow #axis uty #gijinka #Zed’s art

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pixiestickie · 10 months

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so . i did something ^}*#*}*%+%

(more parts might come and if that happens this post will be the masterlist)

ramble ⏬

so . ok here goes nothing. first things first.

this is like the “fisherman meets mermaid and they are in love” AU trope but jamil isnt a fisherman: he pretty much retained his canon life, aka he is a servant and one day he found a merman and he just hangs around him to escape from his shitty life situation (and the merman is completey enamoured).

so, apart of NRC not happening, more details about the canon divergence should be revealed at a later date

thiat is the info about the au out of the way. ill just do personal rambling here esp bevause im insecure about some things about this so you can stop reading if you want.

this is a trope ive seen around a lot, especially on twitter, so ive had this idea since a bunch of months ago. i then proceeded to forget about it until i saw a twitter post about this same exact trope again except it was with fucking miguel o’hara but thats besides the point. the original post that made me get the idea were 2 ocs (they had the blood-cut-to-call-merman idea. I completely stole it from that. im coming clean) and i was like “wow do you know who else is a mermaid? azul fucking ashengrotto”

ok so no the art style i used. i started using it really recently to doodle stuff, since 2 days ago actually im so serious. i tried using it here as well bevause its an easy art style, really quick to draw with it and also looks good. or so i thought. because im now having doubts about wether it looks good or not and i fear it might just look weird. i kinda wanna hear if people prefer this art style or my “actual” one from my other posts

this style looked way better when i used it to doodle stuff, but i dont think im capable of using it in comic format. the style i was going for is mostly evident in the colored “poster” because ive actually redrawn the comic sequence a bunch of times so the style was lost there. I do like how the “poster” looks but im not sure if y’all would agree so id love to hear wyt

now the biggest part. ive never made comics in my life!! so these are going to look so damn akward. u can already notice it here!!!!! crowd starts booing

also i cant draw water and also i dont know how to draw azuls octo patterns bc the material we have of his design are so vague and fragmented but his patterns are not easy to draw so im struggling and i need to make a reference of him for myself 😭😭

#what…. tag do i give this au?#it doesnt even have a name #i genuinely have no idea but ill have to add a tag for this au later #azujami mermaid au??? that sounds lame #suggestions r apprecieated #twst #twisted wonderland #u can tell im fucking sturggling #azujami #jamiazu #ashenviper #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #art tag #posting this and throwing my phone across the room and never picking it up again for the next 48 hours

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fagboyfriend · 2 months

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i rlly like ur composition, i wanna know about your process :D

thank uuu !! yeah so like. composing a scene for me generally begins with a vague idea that i want to get down as quickly as possible- and for me that usually starts with finding a setting. I knew that i wanted to draw a) a group of roomates gossiping in a crowded kitchen and i wanted there to be b) one figure in the extreme foreground and c) lots of plants. i do use some tools to figure out perspective, mainly the csp perspective ruler. Usually i start by finding a picture i like similar to the vibe im going for- but instead of referencing anything else- im purely interested in perspective. sorry to anyone who is shocked i dont generate all of my perspective purely by myself- i can draw in perspective fairly well but i struggle to make straight lines and this is easier to make grids with than the line tool lol ^_^ i try to use it kinda more like spellcheck on typos than like something to fully rely on. this is the video i learned this trick from:

i saw the left photo and realllly loved how the cabinets alligned with the wall- so i used my ruler tool to draw out my inital plotted points from the image- basically the linear movements i was most interested in and then i turned off the image layer and worked with those lines and the ruler tool to move on. eventually i had this:

which was enough for me to put my characters in for the inital round. if you notice- i made a looot of further adjustments as i go on. this sketch is not a final layout, its so my characters have somewhere to be! i cannot draw someone standing on a floor if theres no floor, nor leaning on a table that doesnt exist. i can’t draw my characters without a background, but i also cant finish my background without accounting for how my characters can comfortably exist in it!!

this was the like.. very basic start. i knew the positions of two characters- but i needed to change a lot not only to fit them better but to allow for the other two figures i had planned.

okay.. a little better. i widened the kitchen, closed the fridge door.. added a chair and fit in all the figures.. but this is waaay too dramatic. only two figures are actually interacting- and they are at wildly different energy levels!

this is where things started to make a little more sense characterwiss, so i was ready to refine backgrounds and figures and unite the two.

inital base sketch. much better layout.

okay- this is where im getting my footing but things seem.. really really off. You can see me working on my framing here- theres some good linear movement from left to right here- but not vertically. It’s hard to notice the figure in the far back, so i need to redirect the viewers eye to move upwards as well!

this is where i decided to zoom out, add an interesting vertical element to the left of the image and make it clearer whats happening in the foreground. i had to account for some stuff by adjusting the cropping, but i paid attention to that as well.

annnd- thats what a clean sketch looks for me! i have all the elements of my scene accounted for, and things are clean enough to read.

the next step for me would be transfer! essentially- I print the image of my sketch out, resizing and taping pages together so my sketch matches the size of the paper i want to paint on, and then i use a lightboard to transfer my sketch with pencil onto my paper. Then i refine the sketch a few times on paper before stretching my watercolor paper (essentially just prepping for painting) and inking with a brush and colored ink before going in with watercolor, gouache and ink, then usually finishing with marker, colored pencil, pastel and ink. it’s a lengthy process but a lot of fun lol. but sketches for me can be like.. 15 layers of different roughs until im happy with just the sketch. there were more images but im on mobile and theres a 10 image limit 😭😭 im a bit masochistic but i believe that if i dont have a good sketch i dont have a good painting!!

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aroacesetitoff · 3 months

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Infinight Interns Reference Sheet + Headcanons

Bartholomew Finn

-Vest of Slow Descent-i made it green based off his canon design and then gave it "feathered" hems to allude to its ability

-pre-Draconic Transformation Bart-gave him silver jewelry and the only draconic traits are gold freckles, fangs, and shorter horns

-post-Draconic Transformation Bart-gold jewelry to match with his dad (Simsun), and of course claws and scales and larger horns

-boatswain's call whistle-a reference to the Jebediah + Capt. Marge

-gave him the thigh dagger sheath-cause why not. I think Bart's that character in movies that has a shit ton of knives hidden in the most improbable places

-he's got a 17 string lute, but lets be honest i aint drawing 17 strings. painted a wave design on the body and the soundhole/rosette has a dagger design

-Breath Diagem/lute pick ftw

-scars on his hands (from doing hot boi sailor shit)

-not shown but i think he's got a bunch of tattoos (like "I <3 Mom" for Marge, flowers for Gum Gum, crossed anchors, etc.)

-pupils are slitted like dragons and a very dark shade of blue

Kyborg the Mighty/Kydelius of Everwinter

-Fun Fact: i used to do archery! so some of his gear is based off of stuff I had. But you know cooler

-Canonically his hair pretty loose, and its pretty but my god its gonna get caught up in his bowstring man. braided/tied it back for practicality

-thigh highs. no notes

-gave him an armored version w/ fur because his current design didn't feel like Everwinter-y enough

-its not terribly visible but he has the Belt of Sick Trick so i put a bird on it (vaguely Tony Hawk reference)

-the Longer Bow Krystallina-gave it a snow fall design + red accents

-scars from archery, since this guy shoots barebow

-the left (flesh arm) side is the most armored and unscarred, and the right (metal arm) side is scarred + unprotected (bc u know its metal)

-pupils are really dark shade of red as a reference to the Source Diagem

-metal arm-i took an anatomy class not a robotics one, so the structure is based off human musculature (kinda) and i put the Source Diagem in his shoulder instead of his hand

Gum Gum Galindor

-star boi 🌟

-constellations on the inside of the brim of his hat that Bart sewed for him-(Bart's a sailor, he knows his constellations)

-the flowers (orange @ blue) on his hat represent him & Bart. The orange ones bigger bc u know thats his big bro right there

-the hoodie+pauldron+cross body strap combo is a direct copy of Bart's design bc thats what younger siblings do u know

-made the patches to repair his coat stars bc why not

-Random Axe of Kindness-the cute lil heart does not detract from the fact that its an axe

-timeskip design i went for a gardener vibe bc he works in the Orchidnage now-i think despite having the worst dad of the group, Gum Gum would be a pretty good father figure

-Staff of Flowers-i wanted to reference Dia w/ this one so I tried to have this be the most colorful part

-Bart pierced his ears at one point

-i gave him constellation freckles that showed up post Dia reveal

-he has his manacles yeah but i wanted to design friendship bracelets for the rest of the team

-Mudd's-green thread with pink & white flower beads-the charm is Gumbo

-Bart's-leather cord with blue & gold beads and an anchor charm

-Kyborg's-brown leather cord, green beads, and a red arrow charm

-made his pupils a lighter shade of blue that glows when he uses Wild Magic

-edit: lots of scars, some from fighting, a lit from just tripping and shit. Also a dog bite from that one time

Mudd Bramblecrack

-i love him but it was so hard to come up with a design

-the pink streak keeps moving bc im inconsistent and also bc he has to redye/cut his hair constantly

-the "fur" cloak is the Cloak of the Secluded Garden, and its actually pine leaves & grass

-gave him a very simple tunic w/ a bramble design bc we would try to disguise his noble bg

-i put Mudd in a kilt bc i have free will and also he's Scottish. I dont think he would ever wear one unless for formal occasions tho bc i think they take a while to put on

-Gumbo :) + badger armor -this ones very specifically inspired by Lonna Bowstripe from the Redwall series

-originally had the purple gems on his tunic, made em earrings instead bc thats cooler

-Bramblecrack signet (?) ring-also the Virtues Diagem. Both this and his earring are purple bc its an ace reference (for me). The ring is definitely an ace reference bc i made it a black metal and put it on his right middle finger (ifykyk)

-pink paw pads + talons-less of a firbolg thing, more of a Moon Druid thing

-eyes are a rlly dark shade of green but glow a brighter shade when Wildshaping

-pupils are a rlly dark shade of purple (Diagem ref) and also horizontal like cows

Okay I think that's everything. If not ill just come back and edit it 🤷. working on the OG Infinights next so stay tuned or whatever

#my art #tales from the stinky dragon #tftsd #bartholomew finn #stinkydragonpod #mudd bramblecrack #kyborg the mighty #gum gum galindor #headcanons

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arogustus · 1 month

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Splatband Analysis - Squid Squad + Diss-Pair

(Disclaimer: This analysis in based on what I get out of looking into the character descriptions we have of the splatband characters. If you disagree with what I say, that is fine, we are all beheld to our opinions. Just don’t be a jerk about it.)

The Squad of Squid (and that one urchin). Squid Squad was the first splatband, with the two super cool songs that dominated the music scene, one of which is an emblematic part of Turf War gameplay. They’re also the band with the juiciest drama out of all the splatbands. Plagiarism, violence and relationship drama. This band has it all, so let’s see what all that was!

Also Warabi is here too I guess. They’re just one octopus, so it’s easy to jam them in here.

The Band

Squid Squad was Inkopolis’ hottest act back in the first Splatoon, and evidently have been playing for a decent while before they gained notoriety in Turf Wars with their latest album, Fresh Kids. They don’t make many public appearances due to their popularity causing them to get constantly mobbed by fans. Despite that, their success hides their amateurish nature, as outside of Ikkan, none of the band members know much about making music, practically winging it when it comes to their stuff, though definitely with a lot of passion for it.

Internally, the band seemed to be rife with discord between band members that got bad enough the bassist eventually up and left, though not before one final concert on Starfish Mainstage. After that, silence for everyone but Quinn, who later pops up in Diss-Pair in Splatoon 2. According to Booyah Base, the others were focusing on their solo careers. But they did come back as Front Roe, although now actively distancing themselves from their past, to the point of not even performing any of their old songs. They want a fresh start, and want the world to see them for their talent and not for their fame. Though it’s fair to say the failure of Squid Squad is probably still fresh in their hearts.

Ichiya

Oh, Ichiya. Who knew the guy who looks like a fish gasping for air out of water would be at the center of so much drama. Let’s start with the information we learned most recently. That is, that he’s not an Inkopolis native, but actually from the Splatlands! We don’t know what made him move over to Inkopolis, Beika is pretty vague about the circumstances, but he seems to have adapted pretty well to the local culture. His relationship to Beika itself is its own mystery. All we have to go over is that the two were close enough that they had shared knowledge of Now or Never. Maybe he used to be a part of C-Side before Inkopolis? Maybe the two were close friends, or dating? No one is willing to give a straight answer. According to Splatune 3, he and Front Roe have made no comment on the matter, though people assume they are outraged. Note the keyword “assume”, here, that’s just what the public thinks.

He’s described as selfish, with the temperament of a prodigy and rockstar charm that draws people to him. The trademarks of someone who’s letting fame get to their heads it seems, though not immediately noticeable considering the charm thing. He probably seems cooler when seen from a distance, but you realize his negatives once you get to know him. This aspect seems to have faded for Front Roe, considering their current distancing from their past fame is kinda antithetical to his personality in Squid Squad. He’s hiding his identity (poorly) alongside the others, so something must have changed.

On the topic of being a prodigy, Ichiya can’t read!.. Music. He doesn’t know how to read music, I assume his other reading levels are normal. This is shocking since he’s the one who writes the band's music. He’s just getting by with flashy guitar riffs. This is actually reflected in the music itself. I’ve seen plenty of musicians react videos of Splattack that point out how relatively simple and easy to learn and perform the song is. I wonder if this applies to other bands. At the very least Ikkan saw this potential and wanted to mentor him, but considering how that went (the two’s arguments got bad enough they got in a live shootout with each other), it’s fair to say he wasn’t receptive to that gesture.

Namida

Namida is the crazy girl of the team. We don’t get an idea as to how other than the bunch of nicknames she gets people to call her. The examples we got are “Mida-Chan”, "Master Namida", "Naminami", and "Girl from Planet Namik". Mida-Chan and Naminami sound like casual nicknames you’d get a friend to call you, while Girl from Planet Namik makes her sound eccentric and out of this world. Master Namida gives the feeling of wanting to be looked up to, probably a nickname used whenever someone asks her something. Am I reading too deep into these random nicknames? Yes, that’s the whole point of this analysis.

One minor thing is that she has knowledge in jazz theory. Seems she was studying jazz in particular before joining Squid Squad. Maybe she likes Ink Theory? At the very least she’s noted to be pretty skilled. Her lore is pretty sparse, all things considered.

Murasaki

Murasaki is next. The youngest member of the band, as the original Squid Research Lab tweet describes him as a youngster, and he’s called wild child due to his drumming skills. Not that he actually knows much about drumming, he’s like Ichiya in that he relies a lot on raw talent. Uncanny sense of rhythm, but not a lot of technique. He’s passionate, though, considering he cries during his drum solos. Energetic and emotional, especially once he gets going on the drum kit. The Squid Research Lab also describes him as “rough around the edges”. He must have been a prickly (hehe) kid, but one with a good heart.

We do get to hear about him in Splatune 3’s section for Front Roe. He’s hanging out in bars now, and gives a cryptic answer to the question of whether Ikkan would ever collab with Front Roe (I’ll go into that in Ikkan’s section). He’s probably just throwing off the interviewer for the sake of the band's privacy.

Small but funny thing, Squid Squad actually starred in a small, four panel gag comic once, picture below. Definitely the best treatment a Splatband has ever gotten before Splatoon 3. Considering it’s a gag comic, it’s hard to say if this is how Murasaki is treated by his fanbase. But uh, if it is, I think he’s got reasons to be a little prickly.

Ikkan

The other center of drama that also looks like a dying fish. Look at how much he and Ichiya have in common. He’s the oldest member of the band, and evidently the most experienced and responsible as well. Always arrives early before anyone else, and leaves the stage after everyone else. Even wanted to try and mentor Ichiya to help him actually learn music. Funny that he thought Squid Squad was just a passing fad in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he cared more than he let on? If you remember the Ink Theory valentine’s artwork

and look at his bass case, you can see he still has Squid Squad stickers slapped on them. And then there’s the whole thing with Front Roe’s other song, Sandy Side Up, which appears to feature vocals of both him and Warabi. The fact that both sides are being deliberately vague about a reunion does give the potential that it is a reunion, but there is no concrete answer.

Personality wise, beyond that dedication and passion for music, he’s not a very emotive person. That dead fish stare is apparently his default look, and he doesn’t move around a lot while performing. Still, when Ichiya shot him with a gun, he shot back with his own (what the fuck), and then he stopped showing up to rehearsals and eventually left the band entirely. His response to being asked a question he doesn’t want to answer (would he ever reunite with Squid Squad?) was to say “that’s a good question”, and then he just left the room and never returned.

Now, as we all know, he did come back in a new band for Splatoon 2, Diss-Pair, having found an Octoling twink overseas who he befriended. It’s through here that we get a bit more insight about his reasons for leaving Squid Squad. Specifically he disliked the lack of tension, and them just being yes-men to whatever he said. Considering their overall inexperience, Squid Squad didn’t have much in terms of discussion over the songwriting process. But he did find it with Warabi, at least. Their first meeting was mistaken for an argument, and they have this balanced dynamic of pointing out each other's flaws while still trusting each other enough to not even have to look at each other during performances. He really respects the octoling.

Warabi

Diss-Pair’s other half, and an octoling that has been living on the surface for quite some time it seems. Now, I don’t mean offense, but I don’t much care for the “Warabi is an Octarian” headcanon. A lot of the info we’re given of them pretty heavily imply they were born on the surface. Their parents are famous actors, they had a musical education for gifted kids, they visit up to twenty countries a year on their tours before Diss-Pair. All of it just screams surface octopus. Marina does state she’s friends with them, along with Paul, who’s heavily implied to be an Octarian octoling. Maybe they’re friends because she’s an octoling DJ in a city notoriously lacking in the species overall? At least one thing we don’t know is where they are from, as Ikkan met them overseas. But yeah, surface octopus.

Anyway, onto the octopus, they’re a DJ, specifically a Beatsmith with a strong focus on EDM style stuff. Their interest didn’t start early though, having come after growing up surrounded by music genres from around the world through their actor parents, complete with classical music education. Electronic music came to them in their teenage years, which seems to be their main deal. No details on their exact relationship with their parents, but at the very least it seems they indulge them in their love of music, so the relationship might be positive. They’re apparently very demanding as a performer, with demands that seem all over the place, but that belies a clever and intelligent person. An eccentric artist it seems, probably someone who asks people to serve a bowl full of only red M&M’s, but who actually knows their shit. And considering they’re meant to be a mismatch with the stoic, unemotive Ikkan, it’s likely they’re much more lively and energetic compared to him just to make the contrast between the two clearer. Despite those differences and the arguments they seem to have, they get along and greatly respect Ikkan.

It’s nice for Ikkan that he found someone who he considers an equal.

---

I wonder what we'll learn about Front Roe once the Side Order artbook is released (nothing like it has been announced, but come on, it has to be coming). Will the Beika/Ichiya drama reach its tipping point? Will Namida get more crazy nicknames? Will Ikkan be there and somehow answer nothing? It's all I care about, really, I'd settle for just buying the splatband pages of the artbook.

#splatoon #splatbands #splatband analysis #squid squad #ichiya #namida #murasaki #ikkan #diss-pair #warabi #my work #I can't talk about clam guy cause we know jack about them im sorry #they'll get the spotlight one day i promise

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yagamimi-aka-mimi · 1 year

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On today's episode of "Wacky Revenant Production Posting":

Finalizing Vita's design Part 1

WARNING: MUCHO TEXTO

So Vita, as we all know her, was a design I just sort of happened upon last June, nearly a year ago - the character at the time was still very vague, not much set in stone as far as personality and narrative, didn't really even bother to flesh out specific features like her face.

The model was thrown together very quickly using one (1) reference. She didn't get to a point where I could say "yeah, that's how she's gonna look for the remainder of the project", I just kind of stopped halfway through before her design fully settled in. I had to fill in some blanks as I was making it, and I'm not super satisfied with how she turned out as a result off all dat

So this past week I done did a lil bit of experimenting

First I thought to myself "hrmm what if she had literal DBZ hair"

This was brought on by the fact that her hairstyle was based on Gohan from DBZs Cell Saga

So I tried that. Kinda cute tbh, but it wasn't a serious consideration as I didnt want to remove her curly hair

After that, I tried some takes on her that had a similar vibe, mostly worrying about her silhouette and drawing her face in a way that was more consistent with her brother (she desperately needed to be updated with how my art style has changed since that last design)

Visually, she's been missing a certain "edge" that the character is being written with

As I said before, I didn't want to get rid of her curly hair but I think do want it to be looser - it's just something I like from older artwork of her and it'll be more consistent with her siblings

It also helps her Latina side come out just a smidge more imo, while still clearly being black as well (as a Latina who grew up in a very Latino-heavy area myself, she looks like people I grew up around lol)

TO BE CONTINUED! This is still a work-in-progress

#revenant #wip #behind the scenes #vita #sketches #development #indie animation #indie project

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meanbossart · 1 month

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A long over-due ask compilation (Art & Music)

It's vaguely based on a short story from the book "The Consumer" by Michael Gira, specifically "The Boss". I think it came up in conversation with a friend or something when I was picking a new username, so that's how we arrived at it - this was almost a decade ago so, my memory on it is a little hazy!

{MORE UNDER THE CUT]

HAHA thank you so much!!! Glad you enjoy what I do 😎🍻

I BELIEVE this little guide I put together over here might be helpful to you, also! I touched on pretty much everything you brought up.

As for reference material when it comes to facial expressions, I have a mirror next to my desk which I glance at often and make weird faces at LOL and for consistency, it's really a matter of learning to dissect and remember facial structure. It's just something you end up developing an eye for when you've done it for long enough! Naturally, if we're talking about drawing existing characters, it's always helpful to just look at some pictures of their mugs and take a minute to define what features about them make their faces recognizable - I touch on this at the link above as well!

I do plan on making a "drowstarion" (love that, by the way LOL) playlist eventually, life's just been kicking my ass and I hardly have the time 😭and when I do, I just wanna draw.

Otherwise I don't have any other playlists floating around at the moment, BUT the one my boyfriend made for his Vellioth comic can be found here, and it might scratch a similar itch!

Thank you! I believe this was in reference to this post. Something like that takes me about... An hour??? If we're talking just the colors, at least. Though that's a really rough estimate because I take a lot of breaks, so my sense of time when I work ends up pretty skewed. Even if the application of the colors themselves took less than 20 minutes I probably spent 2 hours just staring at it LOL.

My friend, I have no idea. I'm in a constant battle between "I want to draw more realistically" and "I want to simplify my art so I can draw more/faster". What you see is the result of that ongoing brain-tug-of-war.

Also, just the way I assume everyone else develops theirs - they see stuff they like and emulate it until their art is Frankensteinish enough to be it's own unique thing!

I'm far from a Type O Negative buff, BUT I'm happy to share some of my favorites with you! They're quite scattered across a couple of their albums so I'm not sure I have a favorite, but I would say October Rust is a good starting point.

In no particular order, these are my most listened tracks of theirs: -Love You to Death -Black N.01 -Haunted -She Burned Me Down -Can't Lose You -I Don't Wanna Be Me -Be My Druidess -September Sun -Tripping A Blind Man

Alas, I was one of those people who was already drawing in kindergarten 😅 though I would say I only started taking it seriously when I was around 15-16 years old. As someone who has tried their hand at several other hobbies since reaching adulthood, I get what you're saying that it can kinda feel like... You missed the wagon? I've felt that way about all kind of things lol

That said, I've seen adults managing to develop their art skills extremely fast and effectively before. Understanding where and how you need to improve, and how to follow lessons/guides best is something that is vastly improved by maturity and knowing how to best hone your time, attention, and resources - and those are skills we completely lack as children. So, I sincerely believe that as long as you commit yourself, you can definitely get to a point that you're happy with in a couple of years if not less.

JUST DO IT BUDDY we are all just people looking through a screen and you won't ever see, talk, or meet 99% of the folks who ever clap eyes on what you post. Whenever you start getting nervous about sharing something, take a minute to ask yourself why you're nervous, and if none of the reasons have any genuine substance besides being afraid of what people "might think", just go ahead and post it. You're no mind-reader after all, and if you are, I doubt you can hear what a guy from Argentina or wherever is thinking about the art you made.

Point is, nobody online can touch you 🤷and if someone doesn't like what you do, they can simply choose to not interact with it, and if they do you can block and move on. There are zero reasons for you to feel "bad" about putting up a doodle when our experiences on the web are so easily curated nowadays.

#ask compilation

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dadsbongos · 5 months

Text

carrie - s.geto

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection

…

warnings - reader is fem core, and also not a very good person as it turns out, blood and gore, bullying, vague religious imagery, material emotional abuse (light), kinda rushed towards the end (i wanted to be done already lmao)

word count - 8.6 K / rating - PG-13

The dark doesn’t scare you much. Since you were little, the jitters everybody else described when their parents dared to shut their door for bedtime were simply lost on you. Suguru explained it to you once - the dark itself is not scary, it's the mystery of what's inside those shadowy pockets. Again, however, that dread is nowhere to be found in your beating chest.

Because you know what’s inside - you can see their twisted expressions and the vein-like sprawls of black tendrils. Their eyes that are impossibly sunken or painfully bulging. Teeth that clack and gums that suck and stick against one another. Limbs in plenty, or none at all, wrapped in paper skin that exposes every divot of bone, or sometimes fleshy and fat and full. You can see them, you do not fear the dark. And you do not fear any mysteries.

You fear the creatures that stare back.

Acknowledging them did not make them disappear. Ignoring them didn’t either. Telling your mother made her seek out ways to prove her spiritual devotion. You can’t - and refuse to - imagine sharing with your peers.

They would hardly lend an ear anyway.

You’ve done a good job enduring. Until you don’t.

Chin pressed to your chest, you curl both arms tight around yourself as you and your fellow students flood from the school gates. Your fingers pull tightly at your uniform sleeves as a pack of boys comes blaring past, shouting excitedly about whose house will be ransacked for the night. Your eyes track each crack in the pavement below you. The sun bounces violently into your eyes, stinging them. You clench your eyes, opening them again when your body collides with a bigger one.

Tilting your head up on instinct, the shock of it all renders your previous years of haunted, terrible figures utterly useless.

Your throat swells, gut hitching tightly. Your skin shreds up into millions of little bumps at the sudden cold.

Lumps twitch under midnight skin - piled together lazily like a child’s drawing of a bodybuilder. Two arms, two legs, and two eyes, a shaking humanoid mimicry that leans down to press its flat face closer to your stilled one. Sweat beads down your forehead despite the chill. Its plump lips stretch up, misaligned rows of jagged teeth on display. And it giggles down at you - wavering and layered with the reflection of little girls and teenagers and old men.

Finally, you break from your stunned state and stumble back. A wordless scream rips at your throat, both arms flying up in front of your face as if to guard it.

Little girls and old men laugh again, but this time the sound of teenagers has amplified.

Shakily, your arms fall into your lap and you look around as upper and underclassmen point and howl. Your lungs feel pressed, yet moments from popping at how you heave at the same time.

“What’s your problem?”

“Seeing things?"

“What the hell was that?!”

Your hands clap over your eyes again when the hulking mass of rippling bumps and muscles refuses to trample away.

“Go away!” you scream, “Go away, go away, go away!”

Two arms pull you into a warm chest, a hand petting your head over the heart beneath. The body rocks you as one would a baby, “How can you all be so callous! Someone get Principal Machigae! Now!”

“Hey,” you hear your name faintly, the hand on your head moving to wipe stray tears from your burning cheek, “It’s alright - you’re alright!”

The bigger body pries your hands down, and you peek an eye open to find the malformation gone.

Then you see them. The eyes that take form. That blink. Upper and underclassmen murmur amongst themselves. Their eyes cut across your body, serving the slices of meat up to one another to pick at. Tear away the skin and dig into your fat.

Your chest sputters, burrowing into your self-induced ball of safety and blocking out the whispers. The scraping of sharp knives across the silver platter. The stronger voice above you, trying to coax you from your chamber.

Into the back of your mind, you retreat. Big, colorful flowers that release no itchy pollen. Warm meals that soothe your soul. Suguru’s big hands holding yours so assuredly. Suguru’s sweet voice singing your name.

…

The chairs in Principal Machigae’s office are too squeaky for your liking. It isn’t even the pleather - which would cling to any given skin, were you not wearing tights - it’s the weak joints in each leg. Loose screws and old bones.

Your mother sits straight, legs crossed at the ankles and knees pressed together, beside you, “I don’t understand, she’s never displayed this type of behavior before.”

Her eyes slip to you. Nails burying into her handbag.

Your eyes are still glazed and wet, ears burning with the echoing laughter.

...

“She thinks I’m seeing devils,” you sigh, an arm thrown over your eyes as you lay in your bed - your other hand pressing your phone to your ear.

“You’re kidding…” Suguru has never liked your mother, “Why doesn’t she take you to a doctor?”

He wishes he could tell you everything. Puke up his guts and then some. But Shoko is staring him down, shaking her head.

“I dunno…” but you sound so distraught as you describe every mutated body you cross nowadays, “She thinks it’s all hocus pocus bullshit.”

“Hm? And seeing actual devils isn’t?” he snickers, pointedly looking away from Shoko.

Shoko has explained to him the same thing, in the same way, that Yaga has. Telling you the truth runs the risk of you telling others the truth in an attempt to end your torment. One that they each deeply understand, but cannot risk the incoming wrath of people with more authority than both of them combined.

“Right?!” you whisper the exclamation, and he can just imagine the way you twist on your bed. Rolling onto your stomach on your sheets, propping your head up with a hand, “It’s so… ugh!”

“You know you can always come out to Tokyo,” Suguru shoves Satoru away when the pale fool makes kissy noises at him, Shoko joining in soon after, “Stay with me. I’ll pay for it all.”

“No, no,” you like that he offers, “You’re coming home soon anyway, I’ll get you to myself then.”

“Soon isn’t soon enough,” he stands up from Shoko’s bed when his friends coo and clap, “Sorry, I have to beat up some idiots. Call you later?”

“Hm, I might just head to bed… try to sleep off whatever happened…”

It helps that you can’t think of another better way to spend your time.

Suguru bids you his final goodbyes before you hang up. He clicks his phone shut and bats a fist hard into Satoru’s shoulder, then huffs and rolls his eyes over Shoko’s teasing.

Those next days leading up to Suguru’s return are no easier than the days before.

Your daily schedule has manifested into something completely new. Rotten and putrid flesh bleeding over into normalcy.

In the morning before school, you pray at your mother’s feet. At school, you take longer routes from class to cafeteria to home to avoid as many people as possible. The people you cannot avoid scream in your face - crying for you to go away in the way you did that monster. You scrub black marker from your desk after school and pretend to not be able to recall every dirty name scrawled over the wood. At home, you pray again before doing homework and calling Suguru. When Suguru has to hang up, you go to sleep.

And you do the very same thing the next day.

And the next.

And on Saturday, before going with the Geto family to pick up Suguru - your mother shoves you to your knees at her feet and forces more prayers from your quivering lips.

In the car, Suguru surprises you - declaring that he’d like to stay with you tonight.

His parents seem uneasy at the suggestion before giving in. They’re less comfortable with you now than they used to be.

Suguru is allowed in your room, but your mother very firmly states that he’s to sleep in the guest room down the hall.

Something Suguru has grown increasingly fond of since being sent to Jujutsu Tech is physical contact. Coddling you to his broad chest and feeling the thrum of your blood beneath your skin. Switching positions and hearing your heart still beating. He told you once that it was hard to ground himself at school - that the dwindling class numbers and surrounding forest were driving him crazy. It doesn't hurt that you don’t mind the additional heat swarming you in his arms.

“Sorry I’m so boring,” he’s quiet, but light with humor, “right when I get here.”

“‘s fine,” you burrow into his chest. He’s oddly filled out since going to Tokyo. Bigger and bulkier, “I like this.”

Suguru breathes deeply, your head lifting in time with the smooth motion. If you were to slide your head up and glance at him, you’d see the gentle smile on his face, “I do, too.”

He’s a lot clingier now. Calls you every day and texts you at odd hours. As if you may disappear without him ever knowing. He’s desperate to know you still exist.

Another big breath warns you that he’ll start talking again, “I meant it. You can stay with me in Tokyo,” this time you do slide your head up to look at him, but he’s already staring down at you. Thick eyelashes gently bat at his cheeks, dark obsidian eyes so warm on you, “I’ll make it happen.”

You snort, curling the arm settled on his chest around his waist and squeezing, “Yeah? What if your principal kicks me out?”

Stubbornly, he shakes his head, bangs falling across his forehead, “I wouldn’t let him.”

“Oh? You have that much influence?”

“Mhm,” he smiles thinly, always so certain of himself, “You’d be surprised.”

Suguru has never really liked your mother. He thinks she does a rotten job of loving you.

You don’t like the air conditioning in Counselor Haiboku’s office. It rattles obnoxiously and spits freezing air that not even the long sleeves of your uniform can combat.

She clears her throat, wiry glasses slipping a little down the bridge of her nose, “So, what I can do is recommend a therapist through a third party,” her voice is tinny and strained, as she's at a consultation desk rather than a school, “We can organize it so that you’ll be able to meet in my office, likely during your gym block.”

“My mom probably wouldn’t like that…” you know what you hope she’ll do with that information.

“Hm,” she hums, head tilting and hands scrambling to even a stack of papers against the surface of her desk, “I can scout a professional preemptively, and all she’ll have to do is sign to acknowledge that you’re meeting.”

Before she could even finish speaking, you’re already shaking your head, “My mom definitely won’t sign.”

You know what you want her to ask. You know how you would respond. You just don’t know how much more you’ll have to say before she finally asks.

Are you okay at home?

Instead, she sighs with a forced grin, shaking her own head, “Don’t give up hope. She seems harsh, but your mother loves you. Try bringing it up and we’ll discuss it further.”

What else you don’t know - is if you respond to that.

It seemed like a blur with the way your gut swirled and head pounded. Heart squished down to your feet. The organ splurted wetly against the floors with every step back to your gym block.

Once you arrived, after dragging yourself through changing into your uniform, the other girls had no interest in letting you join their teams. They usually don’t, though. And this time, Coach Teru permits you to find a solitary activity.

It’s reassuring, at least, to know that not all teachers are blind to the goings of students.

By the end of the hour, as with every day for gym, you and the other girls are piled into the showers. Eyes darting away to the tiled walls and floors and arms fastened around belly pouches and plump thighs as those parts of you all are unnatural. A blobby, juniper green thing with arms that shiver with each stretch lingers around flustered girls trying to cinch the flimsy curtains closed. Short, stubby legs let it slowly wobble between each uncomfortable body.

You’re trying to hurry through every automatic motion, scrubbing the soap from your locker into your skin like it could wash away the slimy feeling this spirit leaves behind. Eyes clenched shut and head perfectly straight. Water drips over your face, pooling around your cupid’s bow.

Quick fingers sink soap into your thigh before the bar slips from your grasp. And for a moment, your immediate instinct is to deny that it even fell. Until that dull thunk hits your ears, you are in blissful ignorance of your terrible mistake.

Frostbitten bitemarks tingle up your shaking thighs, sharp points threatening to break the skin. You can feel pudge press against the rounded base of your stomach, slithering arms jiggling around your waist.

“Look away…!” it’s squawky voice cries, teeth scraping against your soft flesh, “Look away…!”

“Stop it!” you welch, hands slamming over your ears and body tucking out from under the water and sliding against the wet wall until your bottom meets the ground, “Stop, stop, stop!”

A distinctly girlish, throaty groan rises from the stall in front of you, your eyes peeling wide in time to catch her peeking over the separating board. But most of your attention is on the limping, wobbling devil in front of you. It reaches out with long, unbalanced arms and razor-sharp nails that clack together. Its own eyes are popping out from its face, staring at you despite its pleas for you to divert your attention.

“What’s your problem?” the girl asks, sneering. You fail to reply, hands tightening around your ears and legs pressing against your chest, “What? Got your period?”

Chest heaving and broken whimpers leaving your lips, you merely drag your stare down to the tile by your bent legs.

“Oh my God…” the same girl looks out at the audience she’s conjured. Shrugging at each questioning face.

“Her batshit mom didn’t say anything,” another girl snickers, reaching into her bag and plucking out a tampon before tossing it at your aghast face. Laughing when you flinch away.

A third pops up behind her friend, long black hair flowing behind her as she creeps towards your stall. She maneuvers her hand back behind the steel shower head and angles it back towards you. More girls have gathered, some towards the back and some eagerly shoving their way to the front. The girl with black hair laughs with more twisted intent than the devil before you as she sprays you with water, twisting the temperature knob to icy cold.

“Still wanna keep clean, ya know?” you tuck your head between your knees, squealing as the chilling water hits your bare skin. Your hands slide against the tile as you try moving out from under the flow, “Don’t wanna get any sicker than you already are!”

A new chill breaks across the skin of your shins, ripping down - “Look away! Look away!”

“Stop it!” you screech, kicking out against the curse. It flies back and a new ring of laughter escapes most of the gathering girls, “No, no!”

“Ah- !” a scream, then the harsh thud of a back meeting the wall, and the water stops.

A warm body scoops you close. Coach Teru’s voice breaks out across the locker room, “How could you all stand there?!” she presses you close as your shivering gets worse, “You should all be ashamed of yourselves,” you are, you know that, “All of your parents will be hearing about this, and I hope you all expect big punishments!”

“Hey…” a girl from the middle of the crowd steps forward, “She’s not even bleeding…”

Instantly, your legs seal back to your chest.

“She’s really as crazy as her mom!”

Your eyes weakly peel open, catching the curious gaze of the uncanny thing before you. Its arms are loopy at its sides, its whole body tilting to the side on untrained feet. You sniffle, trying to wipe away the building tears but only smearing more water across your face, “Help me…”

Its watching eyes go eggshell white. One of its arms unlatches from the floor and flings up into one of the lightbulbs above you. Breaking the light and casting shadows across your naked form as the girls scream. The dark is momentary relief, knowing that the crowd is no longer as focused on you as they were.

...

Suguru bursts into Counselor Haiboku’s office seconds before your mother does. His large hands gently pet over your shoulders, eyes scrambling over your body as if assessing damage. Your mother loudly demands information from Haiboku - what have you done, where were you, why was she called from work - as Suguru helps you to stand.

You’re rattled, undeniably. But you’re grateful, too. For that spirit.

Not soon enough, you’re in the backseat with Suguru. He still holds you, as if he’d almost lost you, as if you're precious. It’s funny, in a way.

“What even happened?” your mother cuts you off prematurely with a scoff, “I know what happened - you and your devils. Your devils,” she murmurs, “Pray as soon as we get home. You’re getting worse.”

You nod listlessly, “Yes, Mother.”

Suguru grunts, deep in the back of his throat in protest. Despite being sent to a private religious school, you don’t know him to be a pious man at all. He goes to speak out, but you clasp your hand over his and subtly shake your head.

He wants to tell you everything. It physically sickens him, he gets so nauseous that he can barely keep down anything he eats. Or perhaps that is because he knows where your mother hides you away when she demands that you pray. A cramped closet with low, exposed candles and creeping spiders in each corner.

The next morning, you realize the girl with black hair is Rinko Ayashi. A girl you remember from junior high. She never seemed to like you, but you didn’t care for her either.

Also that next morning, you’re bidding Suguru a final farewell before leaving for school. His hugs dawdle, soaking up what remaining time he has before his parents take him back to the train for Tokyo. He reminds you once again - I’ll make it happen - before watching you begin your trek to school, a heavy sickness resonating through his whole body.

You can sense this creature faintly before you see it. A bulbous head and teeny, gossamer thin wings with a yellow little body. Insect-like. Almost cute. It doesn’t fly too close nor does it make you uncomfortable.

Two passing boys reach out to yank your hair and call you creepy for staring off.

Just as you begin to wilt, this insect-like spirit flies closer. It pauses just short of landing on your shoulder until you bump the muscle and nod for it to flutter down.

“C’mere.”

The creature’s eyes sheen in flat white before daintily positioning itself on your shoulder. The added weight is comforting, somewhat. Like the strong hand of a parent, guiding their youngest child to their class.

...

By the time you reach your gym block, your new friend is still clinging to your padded uniform shoulder.

Coach Teru intercepts your approach, but you can still spot the glares over her shoulder. She tells you not to worry. That the girls are only bitter over consequences of their actions - stripped privileges of attending the school festival. She moves aside, and you creep into the gymnasium. It smells strongly of lemon and raw chemicals. You prefer that to the maliciousness that rolls off your peers in thick curds.

Rinko lurches forward sharply, letting out a growly yelp in your face before huffing, “I wish I could make you bleed for real.”

Teru overhears, naturally, “Hey! Ayashi, thirty minutes after cleaning - you’re in here doing laps.”

Rinko glares at you again.

“Come on!” Teru calls out across the room, “Let’s get changed and start class!”

The spirit on your shoulder nuzzles into your cheek, pushing against the downturn of your lips and humming lowly. On your other shoulder, a soft, lithe hand lands. You follow the polished pink nails up, climbing along the long, black uniform sleeve, and finally to the flustered, red face.

Yonaka Hokori - Rinko’s former best friend - her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her hand draws back and she lowers her head, “I’m really sorry,” her voice wobbles, arms trembling, “You shouldn’t have been treated that way by me and the others. It was nothing but evil!”

“No, it’s…” you press your lips, fingers knotting together. Your shoulders bow, eyes flitting from Yonaka’s face to your shoes, “I’m sorry you can’t go to the festival anymore…”

“What? No way!” Yonaka has curled hair that bounces with her movements, she insists it’s inherited from her mother, but nobody knows for sure, “You should be able to enjoy it without us being there to remind you of… well. You know.”

Yonaka is just as bouncy as her hair. Big smiles that show off her pearly teeth.

“I dunno,” you scratch your elbow even though there is no itch. The spirit pulls back, now hanging off your hair like a monkey to vines, “It isn’t like I have someone to go with…” Yonaka walks with you to the locker room, her round face tilting curiously, “My only friend just went back to Tokyo, I’d feel bad asking him to make the trip again.”

Rinko’s melodic laugh rings through the space, a wobbly green thing peers around the corner leading to the showers, “Doubt you have a friend out in Tokyo. Much less a him.”

You fold your arms and Yonaka’s lashes narrow at the girl, “I do, too. It’s Suguru.”

Again, she laughs. Nose wrinkling in a snarl, “No chance. Geto was too cool for you, the only reason he was nice to you was ‘cuz your moms were friends,” her brown eyes scrawl lazily from your feet to your face, “Emphasis on ‘were’, since your mom’s gone off the deep end nobody wants to be her friend anymore,” she grins suddenly, “Just like you.”

Your body snaps around, rushing out of the metal doorway and towards the closest bathrooms. The insect pulls closer, bitty hands clinging to the warm skin of your embarrassed face. It’s cold skin cooling you.

In the changing room, Yonaka’s raspy voice is cracking out harshly as she yells, “What is wrong with you?!”

“What?” Rinko rolls her eyes, “It’s what she gets for trying to attract so much attention. She wants it until she can’t handle it - that’s not my problem. Nutjob’s been like this since junior high.”

Yonaka rolls her eyes and scrounges for her phone, pushing all the way to her boyfriend’s contact, and digging out each character. Normally, she’d skirt the long process of texting via notes or verbal passage, but this is urgent.

we need to talk. don’t freak out i’m not breaking up with you.

…

“She obviously needs more friends than this ‘Geto’ guy.”

“It just won’t be the same if I’m not going with you…”

“You’re so sappy. Now use that to make her feel better, hm?”

…

Suguru is very warm. His body runs hot naturally. And he's very level-headed and mellow, like gentle sunshine. He likes to care for others, to uplift and blow away the dust. He’s been that way since you were both little. Does he use that kind soul just to placate your loneliness?

Another, practically identical, insect-like spirit comes to your other shoulder. Its hands scrape against your lower lids, desperately cupping the tears that fall from your lashes.

When you want it the least, a new presence descends upon you. A cheery voice, and you find it to be Yonaka’s introverted boyfriend.

“So, I heard that you don’t have anyone to go to the festival with,” he starts, dodging your stare entirely, “And since I’m already out of a date, I figured that we should go together.”

You wonder if he knows your name. And if he does, then is it only because of his girlfriend? Or did he notice you before?

Did he pity you?

Did he think about stepping up?

Did he think about joining in?

“Did Hokori put you up to this?” you ask.

At the mention of his girlfriend, the boy lights up. His cheeks flush and his whole body straightens up, as if she may appear at any moment, “Honestly, yes - but! It could be fun to get to know each other.”

You kick the toe of your shoe down into the ground, looking at the impact in the dirt, “It’ll be social suicide.”

“I don’t care,” he scratches the side of his nose, “It’s just high school.”

The sound of a giggle surprises you, what surprises you more is that it’s your mouth the sound comes from. Both spirits are startled away, buzzing off into the distance. And you hardly notice.

“Yeah,” you lock your hands behind your back, suddenly bashful under this foreign attention, “Okay. That could be fun.”

Thumb hovering over the call button, you breathe in deeply before committing. It rings once. Twice. Three times.

Four.

Five…

It rings until you hear the robotic woman on the other end, “The number you have dialed- “

You hang up before the message can start. You redial Suguru’s number.

It rings once. Twice. Three times.

You hang up just as the woman starts speaking again.

”The number you have dialed- “

With nothing to placate this loneliness, you turn over in your sheets and let slumber snatch you away as the sun begins to sink below the mountains.

You’re startled out of bed by the techno ringing of Pac-man’s main theme. Throwing your sheets off, your hand beats around your nightstand to (eventually) find the source of the sudden noise. You silence it by accepting the call before you can see who’s name - or number - was printed across the screen.

“Hello?” your voice is dry, cracking towards the end - and subconsciously, you reach out for the water bottle sitting at the edge of your stand.

“Hey, sorry…” it’s Suguru, he sounds drowsy, words lilting and slurring on the edge of sleep, “I saw you called and didn’t wanna sleep until I made sure you were okay.”

“Aw,” how could someone so tender be so willing to be around you, “I’m fine, Sugu, just missed you…”

A humiliating admission, you fear.

But Suguru would never want to humiliate you.

“I missed you, too,” you can hear his bed creak on the other end of the line, he groans faintly as his sore muscles settle in the new position, “Satoru and I have this new project - it’s been keeping us busy,” you know of Satoru, you used to get so jealous at the prospect of him stealing away Suguru’s attention - but Suguru was always quick to assure you that he preferred your company, “We were tied up all day and then I passed out as soon as we got back to- “ he clears his throat, “our dorms. Ah, shit, it’s late. You were sleeping.”

You must be on some humored roll today because you’re giggling again, looking down at the blaring crimson numbers scorching your eyes. Quarter past midnight.

“I’d rather talk to you than keep sleeping,” you admit, and it’d be so much more shameful if it were to anyone but Suguru.

“Better not be sleeping in class tomorrow ‘cause of me, your mother’ll kill me,” he groans quietly and the bed creaks again as he tries getting comfortable, “How has she been since I left? Any better?”

And from anyone but Suguru, that could be misconstrued as concern for her but you know better. He’s worried about you because it’s you that’s important to him. He cares. You don’t remember why you thought otherwise.

“If things are getting to be too much,” he continues when you’re quiet for too long, “Just let me know. I’ll - I’ll make them better.”

“Hm? And drag me to Tokyo?”

“Maybe. If you’d like. Or I could stay down there.”

You’d never ask that of him, but he’d still do it anyway.

“Don’t worry about any of that,” you lay back down, pulling your blankets back over your body, “I actually might be making a friend. And someone wants to go to the school festival with me.”

“What?” you can practically see the playful pout on his lips, “Didn’t wanna go with me, huh?”

“I would’ve felt bad keeping you here! Especially when you’ve got exciting projects in Tokyo.”

“None of that even matters compared to how much I like being with you,” he says very seriously. You’re tempted to ask what has him so sentimental tonight.

But you don’t, mostly because the words are trapped in your chest. Right next to your thundering heart, all words and thoughts rattle around - clawing to get out all at once. Eventually, the ones that escape are, “I like being with you, too.”

It’s still. Both of you are in bed. One of you lying about where. Suguru doesn’t want to think about what a bad omen it may be that he’s flirting with you while lying about many facets of his life. You don’t think Suguru could be capable of such lies.

So when he easily insinuates that he’s still at school in Tokyo rather than a hotel in Okinawa babysitting a junior high student, you are none the wiser.

“It would’ve been fun,” he begins again, “We don’t do any festivals here. Just the exchange event and that’s…” he groans heartily and you laugh, “I don’t like the Kyoto students.”

“Well, there’s always next time!” you offer, curling your warm blankets tighter around your body, “I’ll make sure you can come to the next one.”

Suguru doesn’t consider the logistics of how a relationship would work out with you when he’s kept a large portion of his life hidden. But he knows you well, takes pride in it, and he knows you won’t turn your back on him when he does come clean. At some point, Yaga won’t be able to argue against his decision to tell you.

“Can it be a date?”

You turn your head and press your mouth into your pillow before letting out a girlish squeal. Returning to the conversation, you nod even though he can’t see it, “That would be fun!” your heart hurts, it’s pounding so hard, “I hope you don’t plan on making me wait that long for a first date, though.”

He sounds tired as he speaks, but you know he means what he says, “No way - you’re too special.”

For the first time in a long time, you’re dreading going back to sleep. You don’t think you even could right now - body too electrified with excitement.

“Have you seen more of those devils?”

“They don’t feel like devils,” you don’t want to see how your mother looks at you, “They don’t feel evil.”

You don’t need to see how your mother looks at you. You already know she’s horrified. Especially when she fists a chunk of your hair and begins dragging you toward the rickety closet with her altar in it. She’s muttering to herself, eyes darting around the kitchen as if to find one of the creatures that has apparently possessed you.

“Mom!” you claw at her hand, caught between wanting to free yourself and still being too terrified to cause her real damage, “I’m fine! Really! It isn’t- I’m not evil!”

“You’ve changed,” her bug-eyed stare comes down to you through the side of her eyes, “You are not my little girl,” she yanks your hair hard like she’s trying to pull it out, “Not my little girl anymore.”

She pulls again. Harder.

So hard you briefly consider that she might’ve tugged skin straight off your skull.

On the creaky stairs that lead up to your room, creeps down another spirit. It rolls like melty, red Jell-O with a massive eye rotating on the axis. You reach out with one hand while still trying to pry your mother’s hand from your hair. Your feet slip against the linoleum floor, your scalp burning under your mother’s hand.

“Help me!” you whine, your mother pulls harder, you sniffle and claw out for the mushy spirit, “Please, help me!”

Its eye washes over with a milky hue, body jiggling down the stairs rapidly and bowling right into your mother’s legs. She scrambles back, hands now trembling as though you’d been the one to deal the blow. You feel something surging through the tunnels of your veins. A vat of frozen water poured over the sludge clogging your pores. Washing away muck and leaving behind only chills of rejuvenation.

Your mother’s frame withers beneath your gaze. She holds up her hands, clasping them together and murmuring against the shaking appendages. You don’t know who she’s praying to, who she’s asking for forgiveness - it makes you feel something that scares you just a little.

“You won’t mistreat me anymore,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “I’m excited to be happy, and to live! And I won’t let you ruin it!”

She only continues her prayers. You hear your name faintly.

The curse slithers up your body, licking away the salty tears that’ve begun dripping down your face.

“And I’m going to the festival… And you can’t stop me.”

Her eyes clenched shut, lips moving faster against her hands.

You sniffle and the spirit slurps faster at your leaking tears.

“I was planning on taking Yonaka to this one,” the girl's boyfriend - Aoto, you learned - admits shyly, pulling the classroom door open for you, “But I think it’d be a shame to waste.”

“Ah!” you glare over at Aoto lightly, “You should’ve told me we were coming here, I would’ve worn something nice!”

“You are wearing something nice,” he shrugs, “Besides, it isn’t like I’m exactly dolled up.”

It’s corny, undoubtedly, but you can’t help but admire the pink and purple decor. Color-shifting lights and shimmering streamers tacked to the ceiling. White balloons litter the floor and float aimlessly against the ceiling. The hosting students are easy to spot, decked in flowy or poofy ball gowns and sleek tuxedos.

Some other students with previous insight into this exact event are similarly dressed up. Pins and sparkles and stained lips.

Modeled after a cinematic, inauthentic, American prom.

A cold waft of air brushes your back. Two spirits wander in with a third limping in behind them.

Aoto takes your hand and guides you through the crowded classroom until you meet the dance floor; keeping his hands politely on your waist and yours on his shoulders. It’s ridged and you can tell he’d much prefer to have his girlfriend’s head tucked against his chest and under his chin. But that’s okay, you’d rather have Suguru’s hands explore the dips and curves of your waist. You close your eyes and pick yourself up, placing yourself back down in a different world.

One where it is Suguru. His hair is down, inky strands gliding along his shoulders. His hands are tugging you closer and he simply laughs when you accidentally step on the toe of his shoe.

“I know we aren’t close or anything, but I have had a nice time.”

You grin, eyes opening, “I did, too.”

“Yonaka, uh, wanted me to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you want to go with us- ”

He’s abruptly stopped when the music pauses, both of your heads snapping towards the front of the room.

More spirits are piling into the room, stomping over one another and clawing each other’s flesh as they race into the space.

Two boys struggle to pull the door shut as a final, boarish creature squeezes inside. The door slams loudly and your attention is drawn there before you feel Aoto tense completely against you - his breath hitches and he curses quietly. Slowly, with dread filling your stomach, you look back to the front of the makeshift dance hall.

“Let’s go,” Aoto tries tugging you away, but you remain frozen.

You want to see her as you saw your mother. On the floor and wavering. Asking for forgiveness. You want to feel that scary feeling again. You want Rinko to regret sneaking into school tonight.

The two boys that shut the door now bind Aoto by his arms, Rinko makes a show of your presence. Pointing you out, grinning snidely, “Aren’t you so brave? Coming out tonight when nobody likes you,” many eyes linger, human and spirit, they burn you, “And I think you need a reward. Like a real dance, we need a queen, don’t you think?”

The eyes all feel malicious. Even the creatures only you can see, their gaze feels just as evil as it previously had. Their gaze feels like that of devils.

“You’re not usually so cleaned up, though,” she reaches out and drags you forward, and now you’re not so certain, “I’m more used to you like this.”

Cold water sloshes down your back, gasps retching through the room’s collective chests. Your clothes slick down against your body and chills course up your flesh. Feet patter away from behind you, and a new body approaches from the front. He heaves a bucket up by his shoulder.

The eyes are unblinking.

The abyss stares back.

And you are afraid.

“No, if we really wanted to relive that fantasy then maybe you should actually be bleeding this time.”

The bucket in the boy’s hands tips, and vile red pools to the metal lip before flying out. Red sticks over your skin, plastering your clothes to your body, it drips down your face with grotesque slowness. If you weren’t sure that it’d slip onto your tongue, you’d be screaming. But you can already taste the iron. What you don’t taste, stings your nostrils.

You see that Aoto is released, but you don’t feel relieved. He rushes over to you, ungracefully crashing on his knees at your side. His hands catch yours as they fruitlessly attempt to scratch off the blood - you hadn’t realized you were even doing that. You don’t realize when people begin crowding around you either.

Aoto rips off his jacket to wipe off as much blood from your face as possible. He’s speaking, fast and breathless, and you have no idea what he’s saying. Your ears are ringing. You look at the forming group. Some are smiling. Some are frowning. Some are stuck in the middle. Every devil giggles, though. Loudly,

The door squeaks open, and whoever planned on entering slithers back out when they spot your predicament.

Your devils follow your command, but they will not help. Your peers will not help. Your mother will not help. You are alone in the dark room, and your fear fades. You control the things that stare back from the shadows, you don’t have to be afraid.

Aoto tries to assist you in walking away, his hands are soft and his jacket is left on the ground. Stained in blood. You shove his hands away and look at Rinko, she laughs. Her friends laugh. Aoto is still speaking, but the ringing has yet to stop.

Rinko’s pin-straight hair shines under the dim lighting. You hate her.

“Just wanna…” your voice croaks, Aoto leans closer as if you’re talking to him, “get rid of her…”

The spirits’ giggles abruptly end. Eyes flashing over milky white.

Lightbulbs shatter from behind colored veneer and the emergency red lights flash on. Every body is painted in crimson. You watch Rinko. The ringing grows. She looks up, wide-eyed at the lights. The ringing grows. A stiff, rectangular body with a banging, metallic jaw steps forward. The ringing grows.

The rectangular devil swings its jaw open and practically inhales the top half of Rinko’s body as she screams. The misaligned mouth swings shut with a loud clang and her screaming is cut off. Her body’s bottom half - a quarter of her pelvis and both legs - fall uselessly to the ground in a bloody heap. Stringy, choppy ends of muscle spread over the ground.

Aoto stiffens beside you, his hands tighten around you and he tries yanking you towards the door, “We have to get out - oh, God- what? What was that? What was that?!”

Teenagers sound like squealing pigs as they scream. You hear the classroom door’s hinges squawk and turn towards the sound. The boy that’d dumped blood on you is trying to escape.

“Get rid of them all…” you mutter. Catching Aoto’s attention.

The door snaps shut, a brutish, pear-shaped devil responsible. The peachy flesh monster pushes and pushes and pushes, uncaring that the boy is trying to drag himself through the squeezing doorway.

The boy’s head pops, body slumping against the jammed door. Pigs squeal as they’re locked inside the pen.

“Are you- no,” Aoto sounds winded, air unable to get to his lungs, “Are you doing- ? Are you doing this?”

Claws shred clothes and raw meat. Teeth gnash and tear. Blood falls to the floor from bodies that aren’t yours.

“Would you have helped me?” you don’t look at Aoto, voice frail and dry, “If Hokori hadn’t made you, would you have helped me?”

His mouth opens and closes. Like a fish to be gutted. His chest rapidly moves with his hyperventilating. He reaches out for you, but you’ve stepped back. He sees a girl have her legs twisted like putty over your shoulder, and he runs to the door.

The peachy spirit stands guard, roughly slapping Aoto away. His body flies into a table and he stays down. You look up at the creature and he clears your path before slamming the door shut behind you. You trail blood into the hall, looking out at the gathering student body in the narrow space. Teachers are at the frays.

Wet, strained eyes of devils watch from every corner.

The ringing has subsided. You can hear the screams behind you more clearly now.

And you can hear yourself as you tell the devils, “Make them bleed.”

Fly-like devils swarm to your sides. They suck up the blood still clinging to you. You collect more as you wander out of the school.

You pass Coach Teru. Her body is pinned to the wall by a lanky devil with sagging, baggy skin - like a deflated beach ball stretched around a stick. Her chest only lets out wheezy little whines. You could free her, but then once the euphoria of having a savior wavers, she will realize what you are. The very devil-conduit freak your mother and peers feared. She will hate you just as much. So you walk away as she is crushed, desperately flinging out weak cries of your name.

Real flies join the buzz around your bloodied form as you walk home.

…

As you watch blood mix into water and flow down the shower drain, you hear your bathroom door creak open. A shadow casts over the white shower curtain. Your mother attracts the fly devils. They tangle in her hair and lap at her face with long tongues.

You can see her hands tremble. The shape of something angular and sharp rests in her grasp. It means nothing well.

You want for your mother to sweep you into her arms. To cradle you and promise better days. To seek help for you that does not come with scorching candles and splintered knees in a cramped closet. Yet, you already know you cannot have that. You wonder if maybe in a different world, you could have. If maybe there is another version of you that isn’t plagued by visions of evil and has normal breakfasts with a family that loves you.

You wonder. You will never know.

“Get rid of her,” you command coldly.

The flies flock around her throat, laying pressure from all sides. They’re weak individually, but en masse, they manage to pry the oxygen from your mother’s lungs. Strip away the cruel beat of her heart.

Her knife clatters to the ground, body thumping to the ground soon after.

It hasn’t hit you yet as you towel off and change post-shower, what you’re going to do about the carnage left in your wake. But returning one of Suguru’s many, many missed calls seems like a good first step. It rings once.

Then his voice, weaker and shakier than you’re used to, “I’ve done something bad,” he sucks in a sharp breath, “Terrible.”

You’re snapped from whatever sinister haze had taken over you. Suguru’s confession rouses the warmth of your chest, you clutch the phone tightly to your ear, “I have, too.”

If you try hard enough, you can still smell the iron in the hallway. And you can still hear the screams of boys and girls and mothers and fathers and lovers and friends. You sniffle, the memories burn your eyes, “I- Sugu…” you really have done something unbearable, haven’t you?

Your mother’s body will be cold by morning.

“I killed them,” you gasp, hoping to feel the air fill your lungs - you don’t, “I killed them all…!”

And the scariest thing about it, is you don't know if you even regret it.

Suguru is warm and kind, you know this hopelessly. You’re reminded now because he pushes aside whatever sin he’s borne tonight to ease your breathing. His voice is gentle as he coaxes you into calmer breaths. Only then, does he continue, “What happened? You killed people?”

“I- “ he doesn’t sound afraid, that should alarm you but it doesn’t, “They hurt me, Sugu. I couldn’t- I can’t- I just wanted them dead. I wanted them all gone and I made the devils- “

Suguru cuts you off abruptly, “Curses.”

“What?”

“You’re a sorcerer, too,” he hums quietly, “That’s good…” you’re tempted to ask, but he’s already speaking again, “I killed a village; burned them all… they were hurting children. Two girls,” he groans, sharp and throaty, “Locked them in a cage- they weren’t eating. They’re all bruised.”

“Sugu,” you trust that he’s done right by the girls because that’s simply who he is, “can I see you?”

“Yes, yes,” you hear rustling, his words rushed like he’d forgotten something, “Pack light. Hide in my room. God, God…” he starts murmuring and you aren’t sure you’re supposed to be hearing what he says now, “If the higher-ups don’t know yet then they will soon. A whole school… yeah, they’ll know by morning for sure.”

He sounds frantic. You’re sure if you could see him now he would look even worse.

“Will you be here soon?” you’re realizing you don’t know where he is. You look back and wonder if he’d truly been in Tokyo this whole time like he said.

“Fast as I can,” he turns away from the receiver to call out to an unseen company. The girls, you figure, “Don’t see my parents. Just climb through the window like you used to.”

You want to ask. The question digs into the meat of your bottom lip. You hang up instead.

You’re unable to sleep. Hyper on the paranoia that someone will find you. That Suguru’s sleeping parents will spontaneously awake and creep into their son’s old room. That police officers will kick the door down and take you away. That God Himself will smite you.

The sun barely peeks over the mountains when Suguru sneaks into his old room. A faint thud echoes from his parent’s room followed by the squeak of a mattress. He pays it no mind, cupping your cheeks and tilting your head to inspect for marks. He’s gentle with you.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? About any of this?”

Suguru pulls back, melancholy eats at the skin of his face, “I wanted to, but nobody above me would budge,” his shaky hands find yours, he exhales and the shaking eases, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t get my teacher in trouble, and I didn’t want you to be a part of this if I could help it,” he looks down at your locked hands, “I just wanted you to be happy, away from curses... I love you,” he says it so plainly, unashamed and with no embarrassment, “I love you so much, I can’t bear the idea of you getting hurt by these curses. And I ended up letting you get hurt by these monkeys.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Sugu,” you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek and hoping it soothes his aching chest, “Not your fault at all.”

He smiles softly, standing and bringing you up with him. His hands are wound tightly around yours and he takes the moment to look at you; he hated how upset you sounded last night. How tearful you were over the bloodshed of people that tormented you. How terrible that sound was, “We should go. We’re both in trouble with some powerful people right now.”

Your shoulders droop at the thought, eyes widening, “More powerful than you?”

You know nothing of the sorcery world that Suguru hails from, but you know that he would be discontent being low on the totem pole.

“No,” he hums, “Well, one. But he’s not a concern,” he grabs the bag you’d packed last night and throws it over his shoulder, “There’s lots of work I have to do if I want to change this world. And I want you with me.”

There’s nearly an endless amount of work to be done if Suguru wants to change the world that ousted and hurt you. Hurt Nanako and Mimiko. Hurt Riko. Hurt Satoru. But he’s a Special Grade, capable of raising a cursed army to wipe out the parasites that feed off his loved ones. He’s certain that, if you’re willing to share, you could raise an army, too.

You nod excitedly, turning towards his bedroom door until Suguru clears his throat.

He shakes his head, bangs falling over his pale, weary face, “That’s not a good idea. We’ll use the window.”

He doesn’t know if the gore has reached outside his parents’ room, but he doesn’t want you to be one to find out.

Suguru is the first to jump down, catching you afterward and tucking you both into his parents’ car. You’ve always known that Suguru is good with kids, he’s been babysitting around the neighborhood since he was in grade school, but seeing it again now sets your whole chest ablaze. His compassion and tenderness - your Suguru is just as sweet as you remember. You think you love him.

“I trust and adore her more than anyone in the world,” he says to the frightened girls, having shied away from you, “You’ll never be harmed by her, we promise you that.”

Suguru clings to you as he drives, a hand settled on your leg as if to make sure you won't jump from the car. Soft and sweet and gentle-hearted Suguru. You’re sure you love him.

One day you will tell him.

That day, he will say it back.

For now, you two sit in the front seats of his parents’ car - and in dim offices in Tokyo, your death sentences as Special Grade threats are being signed by men you’ve never met.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #suguru geto x reader #jjk movie marathon event

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months

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Any tips possibly, for drawing Barnaby’s ears and making them floppy? I find that with how fluffy I like to draw them (similarly to you) it’s hard to show gravity laying them down on his shoulders and such. (Also if you see this I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR ART, YOUR HUMOR AND YOUR WAY OF TEXTING AND SUCH AND YOU ARE SUCH A BIG INSPIRATION TO ME IN MANY WAYS!! 💙💚)

i can sure as hell try!!! my scribbling process is very much a Subconscious thing so let me know if all of this is too vague / doesn't make Any sense, cause trying to translate it is Tough

okay so

the first Important thing is to visualize Barnaby's ears as physical objects. they have weight, volume. im just now realizing i could have used Clown's ~official site~ art to help clarify, oops. we'll have to do with my own scribbles. they'll mold to whatever manipulates them - not to the extent of water, but they're plushy.

personally, i view them as beanbags, or half-stuffed pillows - or water balloons. thick, and having a specific Shape but not solid. i always start with the basic shape before adding the fluff, as shown below. the "meat" of the ear, the heaviest part and the most affected by gravity, will distort the most when manipulated, and the volume will distribute

then when adding the fluff, keep in mind that the fur/plush folds with the grain. like if you have a pet, and you press your hand to their side, their fur will kinda bend and be "pinned" under your hand.

also! it helps to test this out yourself. if you have a beanbag, or a water balloon, a pillow with depleted stuffing - mess around with em. study how the shape changes and how the volume distributes. if you have something fluffy (a pet, a funky pillowcase, etc) mess around with the fur/fluff! a strong visual inventory helps So So much with art

speaking of weight and distribution!

i split Barnaby's ears up into two (technically three) parts - the anchor, where the ear attaches to his head, and the ear's weights. the first weight is attached to the anchor, so that one doesn't move much. it's mostly just affected by the ear's main weight, which is So Much Fun to play with.

honestly, the second weight is a beanbag all to itself. it really molds to fit the form of whatever presses against it. like shoulders! idk if the white lines are showing it well, but the ears' distribution usually flows off of the first weight and hits the second, where it kinda "bounces" on or falls around the solid surface blocking it

& the space between the weights (blue circles) is just connective. like, it still has stuff in it, but Less, yk? i think this thin space is good for portraying gravity/weight through how much there is - more = stretch, less + squish.

here's some additional visuals for weight, volume (shown with mesh), and gravity

so just.... yk... keep in mind that his ears have Volume and will fold over itself, bunch up, the basic shape is just Very malleable! his ears are beanbags attached to a fixed point on his head - other than that point, they can swing and squish however!

#i feel like this was a lot of words without a real explanation #so let me know if it doesnt make sense! i can try to approach this a different way. or Not if you'd prefer lol #but i Do hope this helps!!#scribble salad #rambles from the bog #also thank you!!! so much!!!#that really does mean so much and im So Glad my silly scribbles can be that for you <3

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