#owlygem

[exittotheartscape]

Love @owlygem ‘s Addison Tenna design, and ended up making some doodles with him and Spamton! Poor guy’s learning how to be a salesman, but cartoon logic prevails.

[wondrous-art]

If I had a nickel for every time a creator with a pre-established bug race made a mosquito character for it based on Spamton, I'd have two nickels. One is mine and the other is @owlygem's and I just had to draw them interacting.

[dordt]

Meet the Spamtons

Much like the Addisons, of course I wanted to have the Spamtons together, now we have one more to add! I love how diverse their personalities all are. @owlygem Spamton in so many images they do is just a snide sleezy salesman of a guy and I like that he's slowly starting to recover from his ordeal. I have a feeling he's the type of guy whom doesn't stop ribbing others especially when there's a Spamton who is reliant on the Soul. @brightgoat Despite his issues he seems by far the most put together which says a lot. He's a very interesting fellow, showing a little compassion towards @zarla-s Spamton which from what I can gather he's by far the most mentally damaged compared to all of them. He's often in his own little world, seeking revenge against his old friends. Something about Deal Breaker Spamton, he's at the mercy of the Soul and she can over take him at a moment's notice, but she's super protective of Spamton and hates it when people mock him, ergo @owlygem Spamton is now being choaked out. I hope they are close to their designs. They have great concepts and drawings. This was fun

[shinyzango]

And now onward with the Friendly Attacks! Here's the first bunch~

@owlygem, @ghostlyghosti and @bechnokid 🙌

[crucian-tador]

@owlygem kick his ass? okay.

he is fine dw, just sleep

[pazam]

Playtime with Father Vahn! 🌠

(Baby Sun and Vahn belong to @owlygem!)

[pinatadoodles]

wanted to draw @owlygem's buggy guys, their designs are very fun.

cant wait for the the escart comic!

[chantillyxlacey]

See this fuckin' awesome comic by @owlygem for the context for this ficlet: https://www.tumblr.com/owlygem/795416768389791744/ah

So I was not the original person who asked about writing fic for this au, but apparently seeing that ask activated something in my brain and I wrote this at work today like I'd been possessed.

This au lives rent free in my brain and getting into Spam's head for this little snippet was an absolute BLAST.

The Lord of Screens Cleaved Red by Blade

What a fucking joke.

Everything Spamton had given up, everything that had been taken from him for trying to outfox the prophecy, and it hadn’t even been that glorified horoscope that had gotten [[him]] in the end. Some idiot Lightner with butterfingers and no idea they’d been holding someone’s life in their hands had beaten capital-F Fate to the punch.

He keeps having dreams about broken glass.

Broken glass and the bang of a vacuum popping, heaving inward like when [[he’d]] sucked in [[his]] gut to be funny. Cracked plastic and warped metal and split wires and broken glass and broken glass and broken glass and broken glass–

He quit sleeping a while ago.

The sleep deprivation probably isn’t doing him any favors, but his head’s so fucked already that it probably can’t make things much worse, either. It’s fine. 

Even if it’s not fine, he doesn’t care all that much. Everything sucks so thoroughly and so constantly anyway that it all melts down into a long gummy blur without any particular misery making an impression over the others.

And then this jackass shows up.

Shows up wearing [[his]] clothes.

As if he doesn’t already attract enough attention just by standing two heads taller than every other Addison, he has to play dressup too.

At least when Spamton had done that, it hadn’t been a dead man he’d been imitating.

At least [[he’d]] stolen just as much right back, until they’d started smudging together at the edges, started looking more like a matched set instead of two assholes trying to out-do each other at being the other asshole.

Honestly, it feels good to be angry about something specific for a change, instead of just the rotten sum total of what he’s been reduced to.

So when Mr. Counterfeit shows up in his back alley for a little mission trip or private circus or whatever, Spamton let’s him fucking have it.

Showing up in the first place isn’t the end to the audacity from Wannabee, either, because of course it wouldn’t be. Dressed ‘like what?’ he asks, and his oh-gosh-oh-gee cluelessness sounds almost genuine. Like his jacket’s not color-matched down to the hex-code and his tie isn’t flapping around in the breeze like [[he]] always used to insist on.

“I don’t know why I even came here,” Pantomime eventually whines.

Get in line, pal!

“When I heard about you, I felt pity for you!”

Yeah, well. Get in line for that, too.

“But I shouldn’t have bothered!!!”

Spamton barely hears the rest of what gets snarled at him. Copypaste’s lips peel back from his teeth into a shape that technically resembles a smile in the same way that a grimy puppet scuttling around in the trash technically resembles a rising star. Claws prick through the fingertips of his gloves as he grabs at nothing and lavender sparks of electricity spit off of him.

It’s just like–

No.

It looks just like–

No.

He looks just like–

NO no no nononono there’s no way.

Spamton can’t get goosebumps anymore but he feels them crawling over him anyway, like a full-body phantom limb.

There’s no fucking way. He knows there isn’t.

But he doesn’t know it well enough to make this not be happening, and not well enough to stop himself from asking the pitiful, horrible question that he already knows the impossible, horrible answer to.

“...[Ten]?”