윽. 죄송합니다. 할 일이 워낙 많다 보니 번역이 좀 지체되었습니다. (거의 일주일) 어쨌든, 머펫이 샌즈한테 쳐맞던 도중에 뭔가를 발견한 듯 싶네요? 대체 뭘까요? 다음 편에서 알아봅시다~! :)
Oops, sorry. I had so many things to do and the translation got delayed… (almost a week) Anyways, while muffet was getting her ass kickedhit by sans, she seems to have found something interesting…. what the heck is that? Let’s find that out NEXT time~! :)
i wanted to make up for my low effort nageki drawing with another low effort nageki drawing. this song made me cry twice yesterday. alternate color version and a detail thingy under the cut!!?!?!??!!?!?!?
I tried making a little reference on what species this guy is. I’ve decided to call them Western Shift Spades.
Their main colors are Brown and red. They are a proud species, quite aggressive despite being smaller than most dragons. Their most distinguishing features are their thick horns, spikes, and spaded tails.
녜헤헤헤헤헤헤헹 끝냈습니다. 조만간(몇 페이지 이후)부터는 챕터 2로 전환되며 흑백 스타일로 바뀐다고 하네요. (그래도 액션 장면이나 중요한 장면은 컬러로 된다고 하네요. 예스.) 그나저나, 머펫이 파피루스와 프리스크를 빠안히 쳐다보고 있네요. 제발 제가 상상하는 일이 벌어지지 않길 바랍니다.
Nyehehehehehe it’s finished. After a while(a few pages), this comic will enter the second chapter, accompanied by the style switch to a black-and-white. (But though action scenes and important scenes will be in color. YEY.) Aaaanyways, now it seems that Muffet is staring at Papy and Frisk. I really hope that what I’m imagining doesn’t take place.
It was a quiet night so far. Just you and a book resting on the hotel bed, the stars twinkling outside your fourteenth floor window.
Suddenly, you look up from your reading to the mirror on the other side of the room where your reflection stares back at you. You take a good long look in the eyes of that guy. You see all your past mistakes, all the mistakes you’ll make in the future, heck, even the mistakes you’re making now.
It pisses you off. Just… Screw that guy! You throw your book at the troll in the mirror and it shatters with the melodious tinkling of glass hitting the hard floor.
It wasn’t fair. Why were you even alive? Why can’t you die? Why couldn’t the Benefactor just mind his own business and leave you dead on the meteor all those years ago? And why did he have to sanction all of those horrible tests and experiments on you? You try to no avail to put that terrifying six years from your mind.
Oh, you are so angry and bitter and afraid. You remember that you have a list of targets in the area that you still haven’t taken care of yet. Perhaps you’ll go out and do that now.
You hop off the bed and change your clothes. Boss requires you to dress nicely when you do his bidding. You don your suit, fastening every button meticulously and securing your pistols in their holsters beneath your jacket. Next, you dig your black leather gloves from your bag and slide them snuggly on your hands. The final piece to this particular puzzle is your baby, your precious custom M16. You don’t take it from it’s box quite yet, not to walk through the lobby. You pick up the case in your gloved hand and exit the room and the hotel altogether.
Are you going to do a fic for your latest drawing? I'm curious? Dose the writing of this fic require the scarifies of virgins and first borns?
writing a coherent narrative is hard and i’m really lazy so i’ll just wordvomit what i was thinking when drawing the thing k
warning: rambling, a bit dark, and explicit.
in this AU, our two favorite norsedudes are either heirs of a wealthy monarchy/unrelated trust-fund douchebags. they spend their entire lives pampered and spoiled, throwing lavish drug parties on yachts, dancing on opulent clubs’ tabletops, high-rolling in foreign countries, fucking celebrities, and all the other shit sickeningly rich, privileged brats do.
but there’s a catch! see, they’re unhappy inside because between their parents’ non-existent love and superficial party buddies, all they have is each other and a pile of cash. heartbreaking. and nobody really gets them, man, because obviously other people are either uneducated peasants or a joke.
their GDP-burning fun comes to a sudden halt when a coup against the corrupt monarchs erupts in their home country/their assets get frozen or confiscated. with the money train stopped dead, the two now-penniless souls flee to a neighboring country and learn to live like (ugh) commoners.
they fight and scream at each other a lot because loki is going through withdrawal and forced to sell his body and useless lazy-ass thor has anger management issues and they have no fucking money. when he finds out that loki does tricks (nope not illusions) for bucks and a few sniffs, he predictably explodes into a wrathful prude, beats the offensive patrons nearly dead and after winning a brawl against all the bouncers in the world drags a screaming, kicking loki out of the brothel/stripclub by the hair.
upon arriving at their sorry excuse of an apartment, thor throws loki on the hard, rickety bed (because they don’t have a couch) and confronts him, but this isn’t working so great because loki still has his workclothes (or definite lack thereof) on and thor is still on an adrenaline high, so they end up screwing each other’s brains out for the first time, all that pent-up sexual frustration between them released, wreaking havoc inside them, bright and hot and keen and oh oh oh so good.
“you’re not going back to that club ever again,” thor says when they’re finally done, backs against each other in the narrow bed with their spine uncomfortably touching. they can hear passing sirens in the streets below. "you’re mine now, and i take care of what’s mine.“
the neon light from the bowling alley across the street creeps through the open window, making loki’s unfocused eyes brilliantly, otherworldly green. "we’re going to fucking starve,” he says, voice ragged from screaming so much.
the sound of sirens lulls them into an uneasy sleep.