Every time I start to feel like my art isn't improving, I try redrawing old art and that usually makes me feel better This is like one of my very first Ocs that I made when I was 8 and drew like every day. Her name was Milly but I'm changing it to either Maeve or Meadow
Happy Monday, All!
My mom loves Superman. And especially Christopher Reeve's Superman.
So, 10 years ago, when I was teaching myself gouache painting... I did this little painting for her.
It hangs proudly in her laundry room... right next to the detergent.
My mom is my biggest fan.
Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥
Scott
batboys for a secret santa!! they get a new brother for christmas :]
Turning Picrews into characters, cot'd! Based on this delightful one by Urgonic:
[Picrew Link]
Me and my best friend (@thatone-ranboofan996) absolutely adore the Handplates comic by @zarla-s. It was a big part of both our childhoods so I decided to try drawing us in their style and how we'd look in the story!
The plot behind why there would be humans being tested instead of just taking their souls to cross the barrier is mainly based around gasters insecurities. Two humans go on a hike and fall down Mount Ebott. They travel through the ruins and end up staying with toriel for a while because she's awesome and sweet. They later leave but as soon as they do they're caught on alphys' cameras and she immediately tells gaster.
In this side timeliness we imagined that gaster was worried that the two souls wouldn't be enough and since he had already created paps and sans, gaster thought that if he could study the human souls then he could figure out how to better them and combine a human and a monster soul to make it a more powerful singular soul. Of course alphys is confused on where the humans went but gaster wipes the cameras and lightly gaslights her. I am also 93% sure he'd love the opportunity to get revenge on the humans
I am also unsure how Zarla feels about aus of her au but if she doesn't like them I will take this post down
Thought it was a good idea to make a links page for this little au, just incase it actually goes somewhere lol
The ForgottenTale main story is here!
Chapter One - The First Run
Game Start
A scared little flower
Flowey will remember this decision
The Scary Lady
A Fleeing Situation
A Breather
Side Stuff
Art and little animations
Ivan!
He has so much backstory
I got bot spammed a few days again and I was going to block all of them but after only blocking one I gave up
And all I can think of it this
-a bunch of women walking into a club with all their friends-
-me the person who lets people in by lifting up the rope-
-everyone walking in and then I put the rope down on the last person-
Woman: hey man what the hell
Me: sorry lady I just hate you specifically.
Jason keeps him humble
I am INVESTED in this story
tw: kidnapping, non-con drugging
The boy skidded to a halt, almost crashing into a tall body lurking in the middle of the street. He fumbled to steady his footing from the brick wall of a man that blocked his way, brows furrowed instantly in annoyance.
The sun was setting beyond the horizon and the sky had gone a dark red, with ashy grey clouds filling the expanse. The mask sitting on the man’s face made the boy initially think this was Mercenary. But when his head tilted down, finally drawing his attention to the smaller boy, he realised it wasn’t.
The child instantly went sheepish and blushed in embarrassment, having made a fool out of himself in front of an odd stranger.
“Sorry, mister,” he grumbled out, staring up at him with unblinking eyes. He was dressed in a similar get up to Mercenary, with the mask and all. Skulking in the shadows until he found what he was looking for...
The child felt uneasy as the man chuckled under his breath, folding his arms across his chest.
“It’s real creepy lurking on the streets,” the boy sniffed as he imitated his stance, puffing out his chest. “Especially with a Halloween costume.”
The masked man cocked his head. “And don’t you think its a little irresponsible to be talking to strangers?”
The child pouted. “I can look after myself! I’m not a kid.”
“That so?” came the dryly amused response. The boy nodded his head firmly; he hated people thinking he was some weak brat. Mercenary did it all the time and it grated profusely on his nerves. Giving the man one final sweep, the child hummed and blinked up at him.
“Are you one of those contract killers?”
The masked man didn’t move. “Yes, I am.”
Oh. The boy wasn’t expecting such a blunt answer. Was he telling him because he thought he was harmless? He scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes at him.
“Then can you kill somebody for me?”
The killer shrugged his shoulders, as if in playful exasperation, and reached for his belt. “Sure. After I’ve done this job.”
Pinched between his two fingers was a rectangular card, flashing it towards the boy smoothly. He took it from him, all while giving him a perplexed, yet judgmental stare.
“Contract killers don’t have business cards.”
“This one does,” he responded with a light chuckle. “How else are people meant to find me?”
“But Merce–” The boy caught himself and stumbled to cover his tracks. “–the people on the television shows say it’s just through the right connections.”
The masked man hummed. “You’re old enough to tell fiction apart from reality, aren’t you?”
The child’s expression wrinkled in anger and he sent him a deadly glare. He flipped over the card and glanced at the front, making a note to ask Mercenary about this guy. He seemed illegitimate and wondered if he was any good at his job at all.
“Of course I am, I’m not...” His heart sank to his boots and his words fizzled out on his tongue. His eyes were wide as he stared at the name on the front of the card, a name Mercenary had warned him about, a name he was meant to stay away from.
Stupid.
It was Mercenary’s rival. The rival that was out to kill them both. Along the ground came a bright stream of light, and the sound of a car slowly rolling up the pavement. The boy swallowed the parched lump in his throat and subtly glanced behind him, watching the black car come to a stop.
He bit the inside of his cheek and turned his focus back on the killer, who was already staring at him. The child could almost feel the smirk.
“I have to go...” He whispered shakily. He couldn’t hide the fear in his voice or his body. “I have to go.”
He turned to run, but a strong force yanked him back by the collar of his shirt, sending him crashing onto the hard floor. He scraped his hands and hissed in pain.
“Stay a bit,” the masked man cooed, his haunting steps coming closer by the second. “After all, I did say I had a job to do.”
The child scrambled onto his feet, ready to break off in a run. But he felt huge arms grab him and yank him back into the hard body, pinning him there. He instantly began thrashing frantically, swinging his legs in the air as he was carried back.
“Help!” He screamed, shredding his vocal chords as tears welled in his eyes. “Mercenary, help! He–”
A gloved hand closed around his mouth and nose, cutting him off. His fingers dug into the man’s wrist as he squirmed uselessly, gasping in pain when he felt the smack of hard leather seats beneath his body.
He lashed out with his legs and kicked viciously as the killer climbed in afterwards, shutting the car door behind him. There was something in his hand and the child cried out in fear, hands scrambling at the locked door opposite.
“No–” He wailed, terror flashing in his eyes as a hand wound through his hair and tugged him back. Something sharp pricked at his neck, and the boy tried reaching lazily for the door handle. His vision started swirling and his arm slumped against the seats.
Voices became too hazy to hear, and in a daze, the small child fell deeply unconscious.