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Hello! I just wanted to know if this was possible to write something inspired by your comics? (I personally would like to do something with the one with the Zoroark and Ingo. credited + linked of course!)

Sure; please go right ahead! Be sure to @ me or dm me once you’re finished so I can check it out! :Dc

#omg yes!!!!#I love getting writing inspired from my art #🥺💖#ask

So is Levi alpacas or llamas? Or both?

Either way, Cath would totally get him this card, I think ^-^

#OMG YES!!!!#and Cath would 100% write LLEVI in the card :DDD #this was an awesome submission thank you!!#totally cheered me up this morning (bad dream)#fangirl #llamas and alpacas are totally Levi's bag #Levi #cath #submission

Creative Control

The shadowy figure stalked the cells. Flame torches lit the otherwise dim prison and they flickered slightly as he walked past them. They clutched at a well worn journal tightly as they walked along the corridor, their footsteps echoed off the stone walls. They paced up and down the narrow path before pausing. The only sound they could hear was his own breathing and the crackle of the flames. Perfect. They could think clearly now. They opened the journal and flicked through the pages. Their mind wondered through what was already written.  “You guys are unusually quiet tonight” he said to no one in particular, not looking up from his book. He smiled when he heard the rattle of chains coming from the furthest cell. “Bastard” came a low mumble from within it. The figure stepped towards the voice.

Inside the cell sat a man with a pink moustache. The hair on the top of head was the same colour with black on the sides. He wore grey trousers and a cream coloured shirt which was slightly creased from where he had been sitting. A bright pink bowtie finished off his look. The chains on his wrists clanged again as the person they were bound to walked towards the bars. They tightened a few feet away, the man let out a frustrated growl and clenched his fists. He shot a threatening look towards the person outside the cell as he made a mighty effort to reach the bars. The figure calmly took a pen out of his pocket and started to write in the journal.  The person in the cell let out a gasp as the chains tightened around his wrists. They shortened and dragged him back. “Stop!” They cried. “I’ll keep my distance”  The figure stopped writing. “There you go, Wilford” he said “You’re learning” he continued to write. The one the figure called Wilford said nothing as the chains loosened slightly around his wrists, instead they turned their back on the figure, shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’ve made me too weak” Wilford said, there was a drawl to his accent. “Don’t worry, Wilford. I’m sure I can make Mark come up with something. I see you fading. You haven’t been out to see the fans since Valentines day. I’ll fix that soon”

A low chuckle came from another cell. The figure grinned when he heard it. It came from his favourite prisoner. He gripped his pen tightly as he approached the cell. Inside was adorned with an antique desk with an elegant chair. The top of the desk was polished and it shined in the torchlight. A man who could nearly match the figure’s looming presence was leaning on the desk, head bowed and arms folded. He wore a tailor made suit that was immaculately pressed. He didn’t seem too bothered about the chains around his ankles. “Got something to say, Dark?” asked the figure.  Dark raised his head, a confident smirk greeted the figure’s sight. “Nothing for you to worry about” he said, his voice was deep and had a subtle roughness to it. The figure twirled the pen in his fingers. “Did you like your latest appearance? It took me a while to work out how write you in to that video.”  The smirk on Dark’s face faltered. He glared at the figure. “It was too short” he said, bluntly. The figure scoffed. “I’m not stupid, Dark. Too much air time for you would be dangerous for Mark, don’t you think?” “He fears me” “Don’t flatter yourself. The fans give you that power” “At least they’ve heard of me” countered Dark “Most of them don’t even know of your existence” taunted Dark. The figure leaned in closer to the bars of the cell. “And I’d like to keep it that way” he whispered. “The only person who needs to care about my existence is Mark. The fool still thinks he made me up but we all know the truth, don’t we?” He watched as Dark’s expression hardened. “You’ll slip up one day” growled Dark “and when you do, I’ll take my rightful place as the guard and I’ll make you suffer”  The figure chuckled. He liked having one of his prisoners showing a bit of fight in them and Dark was the perfect entity to have conversations with. He wrote down a few sentences in the book. Dark felt reality shifting around him but stayed calm. He knew the person was manipulating something about his existence but had enough wit about him to resist a tiny fraction of his influence. He grunted as he felt pressure within his chest. He knelt down to keep from falling. “You’re one of my favourite creations, Dark. But I need to dampen that desire for revenge.” Dark let out a shaky breath. “Of course” he said before shaking out of his submissive mindset. The figure smiled once more before walking off. Dark seethed, he hated this situation but knew he would have to bide his time. Relying on the fans’ desire to see him angered him but they were necessary to his plan to one day escape.

The person stopped in front of the last cell. “And how are you feeling tonight, Google?” The cell lit up in an instant, the walls were illuminated with a bright, white light. Another man who sat in the middle snapped his head up and stood up straight. He wore a pair of black jeans and a blue t-shirt with a glowing white G adorning the front. His glasses shined in the light “I do not feel anything, creator. Would you like me to add emotion to my database?” His voice had a robotic tone to it. “No need, Google. I can do that from here” said the figure, pointing to his book. “The fans seem to like you.” “Thank you creator. I seemed to have had an energy spike in my code which lasted nearly seventy hours after you let me out. I am still running a data analysis to process what to do with this information and will be coming to a conclusion shortly.” “No need” mumbled the figure, quickly jotting down a few lines in the book.  Google immediately stopped. He looked frozen in time. “Close one” said the figure. “I’ll have to keep him away for a while.” He finished writing and saw google come back to life. “Put yourself on sleep mode, Google.” Google gave a short nod and went back to sitting down. The lights flickered off and the cell was in darkness once more.

The figure snapped the book shut and put the pen back into his pocket. He surveyed the cells and contemplated making new creations before dismissing the thought. Darkipler, Wilford Warftstach and Googlplier were all he needed for the time being. “That’ll do for now.” He stretched out his arms and yawned. His connection with Mark was strong. “Seems Mark’s getting tired. Alright, time for me to rest too then” he walked to the base of some steps which led out of the prison. “Goodnight, boys” He sighed when he didn’t get a response. “Shall I write out your demise? It’ll be easy” he waited for a second “I’ll say it again, goodnight, boys”. He grinned when heard the voices call back. “Goodnight, Author”

(I liked writing this)

#OMG YES!!!!#I LOVED IT #You're an awesome writer!#I loved what you did with the characters.#submission