HOME | DD

Description
He carried her, grimacing with every step. Valerie still had not awoken yet, and her body was a heavy deadweight across his shoulders.
Were it not for their truce, he figured it would be expected of him to cast her to the ground and slit her throat. But he’d made a blood oath with her, and he could still feel her blood mixing with his, sinking into both of their clothes. Reminding him of his own mortality, and their truce. That without Valerie—he would have been destroyed by their mutual enemy.
“I should leave you here,” he said breathlessly, challenging her to wake up. His jaw ached with the effort. “I should just…walk away and let you die in the dark.”
No response. He barely felt her breath now, or her pulse. Their enemy had slammed her into a wall upon her making the final shot. Dan feared—for the first time, he truly feared—that Valerie was dying.
“You’re supposed to tell me to shut up, you know,” he told her, his voice hoarse and halted with pain. “It’s not like you to let me have the last word.”
Still no response. Valerie limply hung off of his frame, her curls swaying with every step. He could feel her heart against his back. It was skipping beats now in a sluggish rhythm.
He tightened his grip around her arm and thigh, bowing forward to re-shoulder her. He was too tired to carry her in his arms, which was perhaps for the best, as slinging her across his shoulders and back was more of a soldier’s form anyway, and was far less personal.
Dan wished to fly, but his power core still blitzed in great pain. His energy was depleted, leaving him as little more than a normal man. He imagined Valerie groaning awake at the uneven trudge of his steps and going, The hell you doing, carryin’ me like a sack of potatoes? Get me down from here!
His cracked, bleeding lips lifted in a smile, which then faltered. He stared down at the ground, refusing to believe his eyes were burning with emotion.
And so he carried her, away from the battlefield, towards Amity Park—realizing with every step that he did not want Valerie to die. For that would be the end of their war games, the end of their banter, the end of their truces. And he rather liked those things.
________________________________
Danny Phantom (c) Butch Hartman
Story (c) Lightning Streak
Blood photoshop brush (c) all-free-download.com/photosho…
________________________________

Been a while since I've drawn or written anything. I'm still trying to get better at proportions and angles, and trying to create natural stances. Not there yet, haha. But I had an image/story idea like this stuck in my head for a long time. Hope you enjoy!

Description
He carried her, grimacing with every step. Valerie still had not awoken yet, and her body was a heavy deadweight across his shoulders.
Were it not for their truce, he figured it would be expected of him to cast her to the ground and slit her throat. But he’d made a blood oath with her, and he could still feel her blood mixing with his, sinking into both of their clothes. Reminding him of his own mortality, and their truce. That without Valerie—he would have been destroyed by their mutual enemy.
“I should leave you here,” he said breathlessly, challenging her to wake up. His jaw ached with the effort. “I should just…walk away and let you die in the dark.”
No response. He barely felt her breath now, or her pulse. Their enemy had slammed her into a wall upon her making the final shot. Dan feared—for the first time, he truly feared—that Valerie was dying.
“You’re supposed to tell me to shut up, you know,” he told her, his voice hoarse and halted with pain. “It’s not like you to let me have the last word.”
Still no response. Valerie limply hung off of his frame, her curls swaying with every step. He could feel her heart against his back. It was skipping beats now in a sluggish rhythm.
He tightened his grip around her arm and thigh, bowing forward to re-shoulder her. He was too tired to carry her in his arms, which was perhaps for the best, as slinging her across his shoulders and back was more of a soldier’s form anyway, and was far less personal.
Dan wished to fly, but his power core still blitzed in great pain. His energy was depleted, leaving him as little more than a normal man. He imagined Valerie groaning awake at the uneven trudge of his steps and going, The hell you doing, carryin’ me like a sack of potatoes? Get me down from here!
His cracked, bleeding lips lifted in a smile, which then faltered. He stared down at the ground, refusing to believe his eyes were burning with emotion.
And so he carried her, away from the battlefield, towards Amity Park—realizing with every step that he did not want Valerie to die. For that would be the end of their war games, the end of their banter, the end of their truces. And he rather liked those things.
________________________________
Danny Phantom (c) Butch Hartman
Story (c) Lightning Streak
Blood photoshop brush (c) all-free-download.com/photosho…
________________________________

Been a while since I've drawn or written anything. I'm still trying to get better at proportions and angles, and trying to create natural stances. Not there yet, haha. But I had an image/story idea like this stuck in my head for a long time. Hope you enjoy!