You Puny Mortals! Drew When I Was On The High Of Reading Hooves Of Death. Not A Bad Webtoon. Also Got

The Eternal Fight

The Chronicler looked up, his perception expanding, as he examined the small purple dragon who had just entered the realm connected to dreams, the mind, and to Aether itself.

“Spyro?” he asked, exerting his mind to speak to the destined dragon. “Is something wrong? I had not expected you to-”

“Okay, what is up, exactly?” Spyro interrupted, jumping up and down on one of the floating rocks that were common in this shadow of Convexity.

“...what is up?” the Chronicler repeated. “I fail to grasp your meaning, Spyro.”

“I mean, what happened?” Spyro asked. “What changed? It’s a nightmare out there!”

The Chronicler was silent for a moment, as he tried to process what that meant.

“...you mean… when you are not sleeping?” he asked. “Because normally nightmares take place when you are asleep-”

“I know what I mean and so should you!” Spyro declared, tail lashing. “Fighting my way through the ape armies to rescue the Guardians was – okay, it was difficult, and a struggle, but by the end of it I’d got the hang of it! And I spent all the time between then and now training with Ignitus and Cynder and the others, and – and now the apes are repeatedly kicking my ass!”

He shook his head, subsiding, and sighed. “I don’t get it, but I can tell something has changed.”

“Are you sure, Spyro?” the Chronicler said, frowning, not that Spyro could see that because this was a sort of astral-projection mental-voice kind of deal.

He wasn’t even clear on if Spyro knew that he was a fellow dragon.

“About as sure as I can be,” Spyro replied. “It’s… several times now I’ve been set on by apes and beaten up relentlessly until I’m about to pass out, and Sparx has to drag me out of danger until I recover, but by the time I’ve recovered so have the apes and I feel like sooner or later that’s just not going to work!”

The Chronicler tilted his head slightly.

“Give me a minute, Spyro,” he said. “I will examine the Books of Time. They may hold the answer.”

Spyro was in the middle of trying to work out if his dreamscape had recognizable constellations, or if it was all in his head, when the Chronicler spoke again.

“Spyro, I believe I have the answer,” he said. “It is an aspect of your power over time. You will need to use your ability to rewind time and try the same battle multiple times until you get it exactly right.”

“...you’re sure?” Spyro asked. “Because it sounds like that’s going to hurt. And I don’t know if I can even do that.”

“According to this, you should be able to,” the Chronicler frowned. “Hmm. Apparently it involves the use of something called a save state…”

There was the sound of turning pages.

“Ah, this might help,” the Chronicler said. “Spyro – as a dragon with the ability to control time, I require you to tell me that you wish to look into the future.”

“...all right,” Spyro decided. “Ignitus trusts you, so… I wish to look into the future.”

Another page turned.

“Here is my solution for you,” the Storyteller said. “First, stand very still, as if you were about to contemplate your magic.”

“Got it,” Spyro said, his paws in a neat rectangle.

“Now, I will need you to do the following things even if you do not feel capable of them,” the Chronicler went on. “Success is not required, merely attempting it. But you must follow the instructions exactly.”

Spyro was ready to try anything at this point, and nodded slightly.

“Ask me to get on with it,” the Chronicler said.

“...get on with it,” Spyro repeated.

“Activate your Fury,” the Chronicler said next. “Twice.”

Spyro didn’t have a Fury ready, but he twitched the part of his mind that would let him do it anyway. His muscles tingled with the hot energy of fire, but it didn’t activate the surging explosion that came with the full expression of his powers.

“Now, tell me to get on with it again,” the Chronicler requested.

“Get on with it!” Spyro said, a little more forcefully this time.

“Switch to your earth powers,” the Chronicler told him, and Spyro did just as he was asked. “Electricity. Electricity again. Earth. Now use your Fury. Now tell me to get on with it. Now charge. Use Dragon Time. And focus as if meditating… and you should be done.”

Spyro had nearly fallen off the platform, and he shook himself.

“So… what did all that do?” he asked. “It seemed like nonsense.”

“In my research, I found that your adventure began too early, before it was properly finished,” the Chronicler told him.

“You mean… before I was ready?” Spyro asked, confused.

“No,” the Chronicler told him. “So I read ahead by a page and read off all the things that I asked you to do. And now I’m reading this conversation off the page as well… anyway, according to this, it should have made you unable to be physically injured.”

Spyro blinked.

“Seriously?” he asked. “That sounds… incredibly useful. If… tedious to do.”

He frowned. “Does Malefor know about this?”

“No,” the Chronicler replied. “Though he may have something similar. Good luck, Spyro.”

Spyro was about to leave, by waking himself up, then paused.

“...can you do the same thing to my breath?” he asked. “I keep running out really easily.”

“I suspect I’m going to get in trouble for this, but… apparently yes,” the Chronicler replied.

Maria lifted one arm, trembling, weak, as if the very air weighed her down. Her skin looked like it would bruise at a glance, like if he touched her, he might hurt her without meaning to. Her hand reached toward him, fingers outstretched. Something twisted inside Shadow. Not quite pain. Not quite rage. Resentment of knowing her sickness was why he existed. That he was crafted to save her.

And until now, no one had ever looked at him like he was anything more than that. No one had offered him warmth.

His voice, when it came, was hoarse. Unused.

“I was made… for you.”

hazbin doodle spam

here’s context for this clip above

redraw thingy from twt

I want Al to be dragged kicking and screaming into liking the other hazbins. He'd hate it so much

Anatomical studies!

So, there was a line in TMNT’03 when Raph complains about his ribs that got me thinking, isn’t a turtles shell their ribs?

So, I did a little looking into the skeletal structure of turtles and how it might apply to the brothers, particularly the Rise brothers as they’re all different species. Here’s the little chart of common bone and scute patterns, and some speculation on how their reptilian features affects them!

I’ll post my individual skeletal studies after!

[Raph] [Donnie] [Leo] [Mikey] [Splinter]

little mikey with the ice cream cat he deserves

Goodbye Part 3:

“It’s not fair!” Anya complains. “Ha, I've been here a whole week, Buttercup. Which is a miracle. Duty calls ya know” Isabella replies with a wink. “Why can't you stay and work on the farm with Pa and I like we used to instead of becoming a doctor so far away. What if that rooster chases me again?!” asked the gloomy sister. Kneeling down to her younger sister’s level Isabella lifted Anya’s head up slightly, wiping tears away from her eyes and answered. “Anya. I love you and my family so dearly. I’ve learned so much here on the farm, yet” she paused for a split second. “Yet staying in this cozy town is holding me back from my purpose and gifts. Gifts that I need to share with others in the world. People that need help, love, patients and compassion. I feel drawn to the big city. The busyness, socializing nonstop and caring for others.” Leaning in, the older sister hugged her best friend tightly proceeding her speech. “One day you will find your purpose and gifts and you will shine so bright others will be drawn to you! In this disarray world, promise to never forget who you are Buttercup.” Looking straight into each other's teary eyes Anya said “I promise Bells”. “Atta girl.” Wiping tears from her eye’s Isabella laughed in addition to playfully punching Anya’s right shoulder, “Now you got me all sappy you silly guppy.” Folding her arms Anya sassed back “Well, there's nothin wrong with that!”. “Ha, No. Not at all. Hey Maple! Take care of her for me” the older sister requested to the redheaded teenager. “Roger that captain!” Maple saluted. “Bye Buttercup. Love y'all so much!” the older sister and daughter said one last time before slipping into her car driving away. All sat in silence as Isabella disappeared into the distance till Maple asked from the porch, “So, what's for dessert?” Releasing small giggles behind some final tears they all headed inside for some fresh baked peach cobbler made from the very peaches on the farm with a side of french vanilla ice cream.

Hours went by as the curly blond and straight hair redhead teen finished their sweet treat as they gossiped about school and upcoming events. Anya’s mother interrupted by asking between doing dishes, “Maple dear are you ready to head home? It’s starten to get dark.” “Oh Ma, can she please spend the night?” Anya begged her mother as both Maple and Anya gave her puppy dog eyes. “Sorry Buttercup, not tonight” father piped into the conversation. “We have a lot to do on the farm tomorrow. Unless Maple would like to help us early in the morning? I heard it’s gonna be a crisp 60 degrees” Dad teased the girls. Looking at each other Anya pleaded with Maple. “Please!” Maple shook her head and laughed saying “Brr! No thank you. Sorry Anya. You're alone with this one. You know I can get the party started but all parties must come to an end. Which is mornings for me. Also anyways my parents will be home late in the night. I would love to be with them as long as I can even though it's short.” Pouting Anya said “Well just bless your heart then. I needed my beauty sleep anyways instead of talking all night with you about your pranks.” Maple snickered, not denying the statement. “Was that a bless your heart or a BLESS YOUR HEART?” she quoted at the end. “What do you think?” Anya poked fun at back to her freckled friend.

As the young girls were teasing each other at the long counter, father came up to the front door with loud keys in his hands waving Maple out the door to drive her back home. Everyone said their goodbyes and got ready to turn in for the night. As Anya was wrapping up on getting her work outfit laid out on her dresser for the long day ahead she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door. “Come in”, Anya shouted loud enough for the knocker to hear. It was her mother and father who came to meet Anya who was already laying in bed by then. “We wanted to come and tuck ya into bed dear” said mother. “And some goodnight kisses”, added her father. “I’m not a little girl anymore.” Anya said in embarrassment. “No, not anymore” agreed her mother, “But you'll always be our little girl”. “Our little sunshine”, father agrees. Laughing, Anya waved them in for a big hug. No matter how old she gets, Anya thought to herself gratefully while hugging them both tightly, hugs will always be welcomed. Her father then tucked her in aggressively as he made bear noises like he did when she was a kid and they both kissed her forehead leaving their youngest daughter to her dreams in her peach and floral turquoise bed along with her glowing strawberry night light.