Family Life Manga

a short story about ai who diss people openly, but seemingly no one notices. it's for a free manga trial. make it ungodly funny, please
, there was a tiny oil lamp that sat in the corner of a temple. It was not as bright as the big lamps and not as beautiful either. One night, a strong wind blew and all the big lamps went out. Only the little lamp stayed lit, protecting its flame with its small glass cover. Because of that tiny light, people could find their way and relight the others. The little lamp learned that night: you don’t need to be big to make a big difference.
Panel 1: Woman in sweater sitting alone at café window seat with coffee Panel 2: Same woman younger in flashback at same seat with boyfriend Panel 3: Present woman touching empty chair across from her Panel 4: Woman smiling softly while writing in journal at the table
"Ek futurist college mein, do alag-alag group ke students takraate hain. Ek high-tech hacker hai, aur doosra martial arts expert. Unke beech shuru hoti hai ek teevra dushmani, jismein bade-bade robots aur hidden powers bhi shaamil hain. Kya ve kabhi dost banenge ya hamesha ke liye dushman rahenge?" ​(In a futuristic college, students from two rival groups clash. One is a high-tech hacker, the other a martial arts expert. A fierce rivalry begins between them, involving giant robots and hidden powers. Will they ever become friends or remain enemies forever?)
Suggested Title: Echo Resonator: The Boy Who Sees the Last Memories (Vol. 1) Description: What if an object's last memory was your own death? Haru Tanaka is a high school student trapped in a world of static and echoes. He possesses a skill that no one else has: by touching any object, he can see the last memory recorded in it. For Haru, the world is nothing more than a collection of other people's moments, a constant noise that has forced him to isolate himself from everyone... except Yuuki, his childhood friend and the only person who seems to leave no trace in his visions. His life changes drastically when he finds his lost cellphone in an abandoned classroom. When he touches it, the vision is not a memory from the past, but an echo of the future: a dark alley, a shadowy figure, a bloody knife, and the clock striking 11:11 PM. In the vision, the victim is Haru himself. Can you change the future if it has already been written as a memory? Join Haru in a frantic race against time in this supernatural psychological thriller. With only a few hours before the clock strikes the designated hour, Haru must use his gift to find out who is chasing him and why, while dealing with the growing mystery of Yuuki and the nature of his own powers.
A young woman kisses her man on the beach, both in their early 20s loving each other
Panel 1: Tinder match screen (“It’s a match”), two separate profile photos. Panel 2: She is texting from her place. Phone in hand. Panel 3: He is texting from his place. Shirtless after workout, chest tattoo visible on the right side, slightly fuller beard. Panel 4: Phone call, split panel. She at her place, he at his place. No physical contact.
I about a boy o lives to play
[Manga Page 1 Prompt: The 3rd Rhythm - Flashback Intro] Create a high-quality full-color manga page, Page 1. The page should be divided into 3 distinct panels with a clear narrative flow. Overall Tone & Style: Gritty Seinen Manga, Urban Grunge aesthetic. Detailed line art, vibrant but slightly desaturated colors, sharp focus on character expressions and internal monologue. Panel 1 (Top - Medium Shot): Content: The protagonist (Ryo - 182cm, muscular build, stoic face) is sitting on his stock Honda Wave 110i motorcycle with a Line Man delivery bag, stopped at a city red light. He's wearing his black baggy oversized sweater, light blue baggy jeans, and a retro half-shell helmet (no visor), showing his messy hair and silver ear piercings. Action/Expression: He looks straight ahead, calm and expressionless. The background shows blurred city traffic. Dialogue/Text: None from the protagonist. Panel 2 (Middle - Wide Shot, slightly above the protagonist's eye level): Content: Shifts focus slightly to the sidewalk beside the protagonist's motorcycle. A small, innocent boy excitedly points at a passing military truck (or a prominent military poster), looking up at his mother with bright, hopeful eyes. Dialogue/Text (Speech Bubble from boy): "Mom! I want to be a soldier when I grow up!" Mood: Hopeful, innocent, a stark contrast to the protagonist's inner world. Panel 3 (Bottom - Composite Panel, showing a split flashback): Content: This panel depicts a dual flashback, a direct visual response to the boy's dream. The left side of the panel shows a dark, gritty flashback of the protagonist (younger, more intense) fiercely punching a heavy sandbag in a dimly lit boxing gym. Sweat is flying. The right side shows him wildly playing drums on a dimly lit, smoky stage, hair flailing, with extreme intensity, a drumstick possibly breaking. Mood: Intense, raw, powerful, and slightly melancholic or regretful. The colors in this flashback should be darker, more muted, with strong contrast, emphasizing the lost passion or intensity compared to his current quiet life. Dialogue/Text (Thought Bubble from protagonist): "A dream, huh..." (The text should appear slightly faded, emphasizing it's an internal thought).
**“The Third Chair”** Lin Zhixia first met Zhou Jin at a window-side table in a café. The sunlight was beautiful that day, yet the chair across from him was empty. She learned later that the chair belonged to his girlfriend—Shen Yan. Zhou Jin never hid the truth. He said he loved someone, and he also said he wasn’t sure whether he could still love another. Lin Zhixia understood—yet she sat down anyway. Their relationship was like a nameless river. Unspoken, unacknowledged, never crossing the point of no return— and yet, step by step, it ran deeper. When Shen Yan appeared, everything finally gained weight. She was calmer than Lin Zhixia had imagined. She only looked at her and said, “You’re not a bad person.” The words felt sharper than a knife. That night, Lin Zhixia asked herself for the first time in earnest: If love has to hurt someone in order to exist, did she really want it? Zhou Jin tried to keep her, saying, “I can’t live without either of you.” But in that moment, Lin Zhixia suddenly understood— in a love shared by three, someone is always sitting in the extra chair. She stood up and gave up her seat. Later on, the café was still the same café. By the window, the table still held three chairs.
6. Feature IV – Nurturing the Next Generation Youth creators in Nairobi in mentorship sessions. Laptops, cameras, manga-style brainstorming scenes with chibi inserts for humor. Energetic, youthful layout.
Panel 1 (Large Panel) Wide view of a dusty village cricket ground. Kids playing cricket with broken stumps. Text Box: "In a small village in India…" Panel 2 A teenage boy swinging a bat powerfully. Text Box: "One boy dreams bigger than anyone else." Panel 3 (Close-up) Boy smiling confidently. Dialogue: Arjun: “One day… I’ll become the greatest cricket player in the world!”
A beautiful day spent with my girlfriend on a road where autumn leaves are falling.
Kara and Chris have developed feelings and the come to a head at work
Miu has two-tone long hair, one side white and the other black. Hange has brown hair in a ponytail and Hange have glass. Eren has short brown hair and Levi has short black hair.exactly as they are in the picture Miu and Hange are walking down the hall and talking. They hear a commotion coming from Eren's room and decide to paint him. They open his door. They sit on Eren's bed and paint Eren's face. Miu and Hange laugh. Hange suddenly sees Eren waking up and decides to paint himself too. Miu stares at Hange nervously.Because Hange Betrayed Miu When Eren wakes up, he looks surprised. Hange points at Miu and Eren catches Miu and Hange paints Miu.even though Miu protests They laugh so hard that Levi bursts into the room with his typical angry expression and starts muttering something. Miu looks at Levi nervously and tries to smile. And say nervously ,,ehhh." Levi looks away and starts laughing in room. Then he grabs Miu's hand and pulls Levis room. When they are alone, Miu watches him nervously. And Levi laughs at her.
Miu has two-tone long hair, one side white and the other black. Hange has brown hair in a ponytail and Hange have glass. Eren has short brown hair and Levi has short black hair.exactly as they are in the picture Miu and Hange are walking down the hall and talking. They hear a commotion coming from Eren's room and decide to paint him. They open his door. They sit on Eren's bed and paint Eren's face. Miu and Hange laugh. Hange suddenly sees Eren waking up and decides to paint himself too. Miu stares at Hange nervously.Because Hange Betrayed Miu When Eren wakes up, he looks surprised. Hange points at Miu and Eren catches Miu and Hange paints Miu.even though Miu protests They laugh so hard that Levi bursts into the room with his typical angry expression and starts muttering something. Miu looks at Levi nervously and tries to smile. And say nervously ,,ehhh." Levi looks away and starts laughing in room. Then he grabs Miu's hand and pulls Levis room. When they are alone, Miu watches him nervously. And Levi laughs at her.
A dark sci-fi horror story set in a massive underground research facility built beneath the earth to hide a classified experiment called Project Hope. Scientists there develop HRV-13, a modified virus designed to repair damaged cells and regenerate the human body without altering DNA. At first the results seem miraculous—cancer disappears, spinal injuries heal, and paralyzed patients stand again. Animals recover from fatal experiments, and the researchers begin to believe they have discovered a cure that could change the future of medicine. But the virus does not simply heal—it amplifies the body’s natural systems. Muscles grow stronger but uncontrollably, nerves regenerate too fast, organs begin overproducing chemicals, and the human body starts behaving like a machine running without limits. Each patient’s biology evolves differently, turning them into unpredictable biological experiments. The story follows a lone survivor who enters the abandoned facility years later. The building is silent, filled with flickering lights, empty laboratories, and sealed containment rooms. While exploring the corridors he finds the journal of the lead scientist, documenting the entire experiment—from hopeful beginnings to catastrophic failure. Through these entries the reader slowly learns what happened inside the facility: human trials, strange symptoms, military oversight, and the terrifying realization that the virus never stopped working. The deeper the survivor goes into the facility—through research labs, animal testing wings, medical wards, and containment chambers—the more disturbing the truth becomes. The experiment meant to save humanity may have created a new form of life, one that spreads through biology itself. The atmosphere is tense and claustrophobic: dark hallways, abandoned hospital beds, humming machines, and the constant feeling that something inside the building is still alive.
‎Katsuki used to wear his scars with pride, like a trophy - because they were something to be proud of. It meant that he survived every harsh battle he's fought, and his marked body was a reflection of that. He's never thought that his scars made him look worse - infact, he thought they made him look badass. He always wanted some cool ass scars. ‎ ‎But now? When he's 22 years old and nearly every inch of his body was marked by some kind of scar? Oh god, he's never hated himself more. ‎ ‎He looked at himself in the mirror. Like, actually looked at himself. For a good 10 minutes, just blankly staring at his almost naked body. And that's when he realized, he was fucking disgusting. ‎ ‎His scars weren't scars of victory, they were marks of failure. His negligence of not being able to keep himself safe. And now that he's realized that, he thinks it drags him down. He's ugly, disgusting, and filthy - for sure. ‎ ‎His scars make him look ugly. The bakugo Katsuki, being marked all over. Other heroes barely had any scars, so why does he have them? It just shows how goddamn weak he is. ‎ ‎He can't even recognize his body anymore. ‎ ‎Even his face is scarred. So no matter how much he tried to hide his body by wear his winter hero costume despite it being hot as fuck and no matter how many times he covered his arms whenever his costume, his face was something he couldn't exactly hide. ‎ ‎But he still did anything to keep his body hidden. Even from you. The goddamn love of his life. His partner. ‎ ‎Anytime he had to get changed, even as much as just changing his shirt, he made sure you were out of the room and couldn't look at him - which was weird, because he usually loved flexing his body to you. He always got uncomfortable when you tried to trace his scars, constantly thinking that you're just pretending to make him feel loved. ‎ ‎- ‎ ‎Katsuki was living at your apartment for a few days since his own was getting renovated. He just came back from patrol, already having a crappy day because his sleeve got ripped during a villain fight and yet again, his scars were on display for everyone to see. He grumbled under his breath as he stormed into your room, grabbing the hem of his shirt to take off. ‎ ‎"Get out. I'm changing." ‎ ‎He demanded harshly, not even bothering to look at you - and just like always, he's commanding you to get out just so you wouldn't see his filthy body.
this needs to be in color take out the book and weapon please use the character from last panel After the show, Cinder walked through the circus grounds, still buzzing with adrenaline. Performers clapped her shoulder. Vendors offered her candied apples. The strongman lifted her onto his shoulders for a victory lap. She belonged here. That night, curled up in her wagon, she stared at the wooden ceiling and thought about Ryan. Ryan. Her old street-performing partner. The one who’d taught her how to juggle when she was just a scrappy kid with oversized ears and a tail she couldn’t control. He’d always drop the third apple on purpose during their act—just to make the kids laugh. "One day, Cin," he’d said, grinning with that lopsided smile, "we’ll perform for kings and queens. We’ll be legends." She’d believed him. But when the circus scouts came through town, only Cinder had been chosen. Ryan had pushed her forward. "Go. You’re better than this street corner. I’ll catch up—I promise." That was three years ago. She wondered if he’d made it. If he was performing somewhere grand. If he still remembered her. Her ears drooped slightly. I hope you’re okay, Ryan.
CyberWolf Chapter 1: Awakening (Rough Draft) Tori Mack woke up because his body felt wrong. The room was quiet, filled with the low hum of machines. White lights burned above him, and the air smelled clean—too clean. His head throbbed as he tried to remember how he got there, but his mind was blank. He moved his right hand. Metal shifted. Tori froze and slowly lifted his arm. From shoulder to fingertips, it was solid steel—smooth, dark, and unbreakable. His breathing picked up as he tried to move his right leg. Metal again. “What… is going on?” he whispered. “You’re awake,” a calm voice said. Tori turned his head. A man stood beside the bed, watching him closely. He looked older, his expression patient, like someone who had been waiting for this moment. “My name is Ein Tucker,” the man said. Tori tried to sit up. His body responded easily, stronger than it should have been. He swung his legs off the bed and stood. His metal foot hit the floor with a solid thud. “I don’t remember anything,” Tori said, panic creeping into his voice. “What happened to me?” “You were caught in a storm,” Ein said carefully. “You didn’t survive it the way a normal human would.” “So what am I?” Tori asked. “Still human,” Ein replied. “But also something more.” “Rebuilt by who?” Tori asked. “That’s a conversation for later,” Ein said. “What matters now is that you’re alive.” Tori clenched his metal fist. It didn’t shake. It didn’t hurt. “When I was unconscious,” Tori said quietly, “I dreamed of wolves watching me.” Ein’s eyes sharpened for a brief moment. “Focus on learning how to move,” Ein said. “The rest will come in time.” Tori stood there—half flesh, half metal—feeling power beneath his skin. His old life was over.And the beginning of CyberWolf had just begun
🖤 PLANCHE 3 — Le temps insiste Fonction narrative : transition Style : manga noir et blanc Ambiance : répétition, fatigue, hiver intérieur Nombre de cases : 6 Âge Début de planche : 7–8 ans Fin de planche : 12–13 ans 👉 Le saut se fait visuellement, sans texte explicatif. Tenue (CONSTAMMENT LA MÊME) haut type kimono simple, blanc à l’origine, très sale pantalon large déchiré pieds nus vêtements trop grands au début, un peu moins à la fin 👉 Même tenue = le temps passe, pas les moyens. 🟦 CASE 1 — PLAN MOYEN (début) Description visuelle : Même mur que la planche 2. Aris enfant (7–8 ans) est assis au sol, dos au mur. Une affiche devant lui. Il essaie encore de lire. Ambiance : Déjà-vu. Texte (petit, hésitant) : « m… a… » 🟦 CASE 2 — PLAN SERRÉ (détail) Description visuelle : Ses doigts sont sales, un peu abîmés. Ils suivent maladroitement une ligne de texte. Ambiance : L’effort est réel, le résultat nul. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 3 — PLAN MOYEN (ellipse) Description visuelle : Même mur. Même posture. Mais Aris est un peu plus grand (10–11 ans). Les affiches ont changé, se sont accumulées. Ambiance : Le monde avance. Lui, à peine. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 4 — PLAN SERRÉ (visage) Description visuelle : Aris 12–13 ans. Traits plus tirés. Regard fatigué. Il lit lentement, syllabe par syllabe. Texte (haché, lent) : « mar… ché… pa… » 🟦 CASE 5 — PLAN MOYEN Description visuelle : Aris s’arrête. Il ferme les yeux. Sa tête touche le mur. Ambiance : Épuisement, pas abandon. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 6 — CASE FINALE Description visuelle : Aris se relève et s’éloigne. Il est maintenant adolescent, plus grand, toujours maigre. Le mur est couvert d’affiches. Ambiance : Il n’a pas gagné. Mais il n’a pas arrêté. Texte : Aucun. 🎯 Ce que cette planche fait (important) montre la durée justifie la lecture plus tard prépare la planche 4 (les livres jetés) renforce le caractère obstiné d’Aris aucune victoire
this needs to be in color After the show, Cinder walked through the circus grounds, still buzzing with adrenaline. Performers clapped her shoulder. Vendors offered her candied apples. The strongman lifted her onto his shoulders for a victory lap. She belonged here. That night, curled up in her wagon, she stared at the wooden ceiling and thought about Ryan. Ryan. Her old street-performing partner. The one who’d taught her how to juggle when she was just a scrappy kid with oversized ears and a tail she couldn’t control. He’d always drop the third apple on purpose during their act—just to make the kids laugh. "One day, Cin," he’d said, grinning with that lopsided smile, "we’ll perform for kings and queens. We’ll be legends." She’d believed him. But when the circus scouts came through town, only Cinder had been chosen. Ryan had pushed her forward. "Go. You’re better than this street corner. I’ll catch up—I promise." That was three years ago. She wondered if he’d made it. If he was performing somewhere grand. If he still remembered her. Her ears drooped slightly. I hope you’re okay, Ryan.
Panel 1: Tinder match screen (“It’s a match”), two separate profile photos. Panel 2: She is texting from her place. Phone in hand. Panel 3: He is texting from his place. Shirtless after workout, chest tattoo visible on the right side, slightly fuller beard. Panel 4: Phone call, split panel. She at her place, he at his place. No physical contact. Notes: They haven’t met yet. All interactions are online or by phone only.
Seorang pria bernama haki sedang berbicara kepada wanita bernama oviva
The walk up to the main house was short, a gravel path lined with solar lights that flickered weakly in the twilight. Steel’s property was an oasis of rural quiet, a stark contrast to the neon anxiety of the Starlight Motel. As they approached the house, the golden glow of the kitchen windows spilled out onto the porch. They wiped their boots on the mat; a ritual Steel performed with a surprising delicacy and entered. The kitchen was warm, smelling of rosemary, roasted beef, and yeast rolls. Stephanie was at the stove, stirring gray with the focus of a chemist. “He’s here,” Steel announced, Hanging his keys on a hook. Stephanie turned, wiping her hands on her white apron with a giant red A on it. “About time, Wash up Alex. Use the good soap, not that grease cutter stuff Gerald keeps by the sink.” It was then that Alex noticed they weren’t alone. Sitting at the round oak table, nursing a glass of iced tea, was a young woman. She looked up as he entered, and Alex felt his boots root to the floor. She was petite, perhaps a few inches shorter than him, with long, chestnut hair that fell in loose waves over shoulders. She wore oversized tortoise shell glasses that magnified eyes, the color of polished sapphire. She was wearing scrubs- navy blue with a stethoscope still draped casually around her neck like a scarf. “Alex,” Stephanie said, gesturing with a gravy ladle. “This is Devon. She works with me at the hospital. Devon, this is the stray Gerald brought home.” Alex could feel the heat creeping up his neck as he mumbled. “I’m not a stay, I’m an employee.” Devon smiled, and it changed her whole face, softening the intelligence in her eyes into something warmer. “Nice to meet you, Alex the Employee. Steph say’s you’re the one who saved your boss from a falling plate?”
2. Feature I – Foundations of a Movement Manga scenes of Indigenous community meetings under trees or in community halls. Researchers and elders planning together, drawn with realistic proportions but manga expressions and motion lines. Soft infographic overlays showing TORs, workflow, and partnership webs. Warm, earthy tones.
an you create a manga comic (images) 6 pages black and white and the scene is comedy like funnier and the face of the lead. the dialogue is more on time, greetings, numbers, place and simple sentences only. The script is hiragana written. 1 page has a 5-6 scene and continue until 6 pages.
PANEL 1 Ruang kelas kuno. Bangunan batu. Cahaya matahari masuk dari jendela. Suara murid-murid ribut. Murid A: “Eh, lihat tuh… Jelata datang.” Murid B: “Masih aja sekolah padahal nggak ada gunanya.” --- PANEL 2 Jaylat berjalan pelan. Wajah datar. Tatapan kosong. Duduk di kursi belakang dekat jendela. Narasi (kotak hitam kecil): Nama yang tak tercatat… lebih mudah diinjak. --- PANEL 3 Guru masuk dengan tongkat kayu. Guru: “Hari ini ujian potensi sihir. Siapa pun yang hasilnya tinggi, akan dipilih langsung oleh kerajaan.” Seluruh kelas heboh. Murid C: “Kesempatan jadi bangsawan!” Murid D: “Jaylat pasti paling bawah lagi.” Tawa. Jaylat hanya menatap keluar jendela. --- PANEL 4 Satu per satu murid maju. Bola kristal pengukur sihir bersinar. Guru: “Nilai 7.” “Nilai 5.” “Nilai 8.” Tepuk tangan. --- PANEL 5 Guru: “Berikutnya… Jaylat.” Kelas hening sesaat, lalu terdengar bisikan dan tawa kecil. Murid A: “Palingan 1.” --- PANEL 6 Jaylat berdiri. Langkahnya tenang. Ia menyentuh bola kristal. Dalam satu detik… Kristal menyala terang. Angka muncul: 3 Semua tertawa. Murid B: “Tuh kan.” --- PANEL 7 (ZOOM DETAIL TANGAN JAYLAT) Jari Jaylat sedikit bergerak. Aura hitam tipis mengalir— tapi hanya terlihat sekilas. Angka di kristal sebenarnya bergetar di dalam: 3… 40… 200… ∞ Namun dari luar tetap terlihat angka 3. Narasi kecil: Mengurangi kekuatan jauh lebih sulit daripada melepaskannya. --- PANEL 8 Guru menghela napas. Guru: “Seperti biasa… rendah.” Jaylat tersenyum kecil. Jaylat (dalam hati): “Bagus.” --- PANEL 9 (MALAM HARI – ASRAMA) Jaylat berdiri sendirian di halaman belakang. Bayangannya di tanah… tidak mengikuti gerakannya. Bayangan itu memiliki tanduk. Tanah mulai retak perlahan. Suara dalam bayangan: “Kau terus menahan diri… sampai kapan?” Jaylat menutup mata. Jaylat: “Selama dunia masih bisa berjalan tanpa dihancurkan.” Aura hitam menghilang. Retakan tanah kembali normal. --- PANEL TERAKHIR Keesokan paginya. Kerajaan mengirim utusan ke sekolah. Utusan: “Kami mendeteksi lonjakan sihir abnormal tadi siang. Seseorang di sekolah ini menyembunyikan sesuatu.” Close-up wajah Jaylat. Tatapan berbeda dari biasanya. Narasi akhir: Mereka mulai mencari Raja Iblis… Tanpa tahu ia duduk di kursi paling belakang.
주인공이 소파에 누워 성의 없이 스마트폰 자판을 툭툭 치는 모습. 화면에는 "ㄱㄱㄱㄱㄱ"가 가득함. "아, 귀찮은데... 일단 대충 채워서 포인트만 받자!" (효과음: 타닥타닥) [단순 반복 금지] 의미 없는 자음/모음, 특수문자 나열은 반려 대상입니다.
Anime watercolor style illustration of melui walking through a sunflower field, wind blowing petals, warm tones, serene mood, gentle lighting
Un gato negro filósofo llamado sombra piensa en el génesi biblico y su creación, se pregunta respecto a que las cosas se crean cuando las nombra. Poteriormente se pregunta ¿Ya vendrá el mushe JuanJo a darme de comer?, ya tengo hambre.
Style: Colored, mature realistic manga. Night atmosphere. Intimate, cinematic lighting. Panel 1 Still inside the white Kia Sorento. Quiet moment. Engine off. Night outside. Dialogue (him): “Would you like to be my girlfriend?” ⸻ Panel 2 (Close-up on you) Soft smile. Warm lighting. ⸻ Panel 3 You answer yes (subtle nod or smile). ⸻ Panel 4 (Exterior night shot) White Kia Sorento from outside. Silhouettes inside. Streetlight glow. Caption: That’s when it became real.
Panel 1 (wide, top): A car on the road. Caption: Distance was just a number. ⸻ Panel 2: Map fragment: Utena → Vilnius. Caption: He drove (white kia sorento) to see me. ⸻ Panel 3: Interior of Akropolis shopping mall, Vilnius. They see each other for the first time. Small date in the corner: November 29 Caption: Our first meeting. ⸻ Panel 4 (close-up): Eye contact. Slight tension. Caption: Our first “hi” in person.
Manga about an architecture student spending one sleepless night in the studio. No dialogue, only thoughts and lines. Repetitive drawings, hands, drafts, floor plans, models. The story shows how architecture is formed through repetition, doubt, and quiet persistence. A manga told through one word: "Fix / Revise". Architecture student facing critiques, red lines, broken models. The word transforms from pressure into structure. Manga about an architecture student walking inside a building that feels larger than themselves. The building plans overlap with thoughts. Minimal text, strong negative space. Architecture manga focusing only on hands. No faces. Hands drawing, cutting models, erasing lines. Architecture as physical labor and persistence. Split-page manga: before and after studying architecture. Same character, different ways of seeing space. Buildings shift from dreams to systems.
6 year old blonde girl with wearing a blue hairband with ribbon on top, wearing blue denim pinafore dress, underneath a white top, and white high knee socks with light blue ribbons.
6-panel manga page, comic strip, story flow, coherent narrative, [Panel 1: (Buchi) small chubby anthro canine walking alone, holding camera, looking timid], [Panel 2: A massive shadow looms over him, (Hirata) huge muscular anthro bear appearing behind Buchi, extreme height difference], [Panel 3: Hirata leans down, placing a large heavy hand on Buchi's small shoulder, teasing grin], [Panel 4: Close up of Buchi looking up, tiny compared to Hirata, eyes wide, heavy blushing, flustered], [Panel 5: Hirata lifting Buchi up slightly by his shirt collar, affectionate bullying, Hirata laughing], [Panel 6: Hirata hugging the small Buchi tightly from behind, Buchi's face buried in his arms, embarrassed], {{{Buchi character}}}, small stature, chubby canine, white fur, floppy ears, {{{Hirata character}}}, giant build, muscular bear, brown fur, monochrome, manga style, screentone, sharp lineart, school uniform, detailed background, high quality
🟣 SCENE 1 — HINGE: THE FIRST MESSAGE Date: 17 September 2025 | Night Prompt: Vertical webtoon panel. Ameen lying on his bed in a dark room, ceiling fan shadows moving slowly. Phone light illuminates his face, eyes focused, slightly amused smile forming. Cut to second panel: Ayesha sitting cross-legged on her bed, confident posture, glasses slightly slipping down her nose, smirk on her lips as she types. Minimal background, focus on faces and phone glow. Details: Pencil sketch lines on hands and face Soft warm watercolor lighting Chat bubbles floating like thoughts Dialogue (optional): Ayesha: “So… are you actually interesting?” Ameen (thought): “Oh. She’s trouble.”
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson. “Morning, Shane! Morning, Steel!” Mathew chirped
🖤 PLANCHE 2 — Essayer de lire Âge d’Aris : 7–8 ans Style : manga noir et blanc, fantasy médiévale Ambiance : tension silencieuse, maladresse enfantine Nombre de cases : 6 🟦 CASE 1 — PLAN MOYEN Description visuelle : Rue étroite de la grande ville. Murs en pierre couverts d’affiches écrites. Aris, enfant de 7–8 ans, marche lentement le long du mur. Aris (tenue) : haut type kimono simple, blanc à l’origine, très sale, trop grand manches trop longues pantalon large déchiré, trop long pieds nus, sales Il lève la tête vers les affiches, trop hautes pour lui. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 2 — PLAN RAPPROCHÉ (mur) Description visuelle : Une affiche abîmée, pleine de texte serré. Les lettres sont petites, complexes, irrégulières. Certaines parties sont déchirées ou effacées. Ambiance : Incompréhensible pour un enfant. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 3 — PLAN RAPPROCHÉ (Aris) Description visuelle : Aris se met sur la pointe des pieds pour lire. Son visage est concentré mais perdu. Bouche entrouverte, sourcils froncés. Texte (très petit, hésitant) : « m… a… » 🟦 CASE 4 — DÉTAIL (main) Description visuelle : Le doigt d’Aris suit une ligne de texte… puis glisse, se trompe, s’arrête au mauvais endroit. Ambiance : Échec immédiat, maladresse. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 5 — PLAN MOYEN Description visuelle : Aris baisse la tête. Ses épaules retombent. Les affiches restent là, immobiles, au-dessus de lui. Ambiance : Frustration silencieuse, incompréhension. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 6 — CASE FINALE Description visuelle : Aris s’éloigne du mur. Il est petit dans la rue, dos voûté. Les affiches sont derrière lui. Ambiance : Il n’a pas appris. Il essaiera encore. Texte : Aucun. 🔒 RAPPEL CANON (à ne plus changer) Aris 7–8 ans tenue kimono blanc sale, pantalon déchiré pieds nus aucune réussite, aucun progrès juste l’envie et l’échec
medium shot, the young man sitting on the edge of the bed, head lowered, exhausted expression, messy hair falling over eyes, quiet atmosphere, soft shading, calm contrast after chaos, bedroom background blurred
🖤 PLANCHE 2 — Lire pour survivre Style : manga noir et blanc Ambiance : sombre, froide, mais avec une petite respiration Nombre de cases : 6 🟦 CASE 1 — PLAN MOYEN Description visuelle : Même rue que la planche 1. Aris enfant marche seul, tête baissée. Des affiches sont collées sur les murs (avis, annonces, lois). Ambiance : Indifférence totale. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 2 — PLAN RAPPROCHÉ (mur) Description visuelle : Affiche à moitié déchirée. Du texte visible, pas entièrement lisible. On comprend qu’il y a des mots. Ambiance : Le monde écrit, mais inaccessible. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 3 — PLAN RAPPROCHÉ (Aris) Description visuelle : Aris enfant arrêté devant le mur. Il regarde l’affiche. Son regard est concentré, sérieux. Ambiance : Curiosité, attention. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 4 — DÉTAIL (mains) Description visuelle : Aris décolle soigneusement un morceau de l’affiche. Ses doigts sont sales, mais délicats. Ambiance : Précaution, respect. Texte : Aucun. 🟦 CASE 5 — PLAN MOYEN Description visuelle : Aris assis dans une ruelle, dos au mur. Il tient le papier. Ses lèvres bougent légèrement. Ambiance : Concentration silencieuse. Texte (très petit, discret) : Des fragments de mots lisibles sur le papier (ex : “marché”, “pain”, “rue”, “interdit”). 🟦 CASE 6 — CASE FINALE Description visuelle : Aris appuyé contre le mur, lisant. Autour de lui, la rue est sombre. Son visage est un peu moins fermé que sur la planche 1. Ambiance : Calme. Refuge intérieur. Texte : Aucun. 🎯 INTENTION (pour MangaAI) La lecture = seule échappatoire Pas de sourire exagéré Pas de lumière magique Juste un peu moins d’ombre sur le visage d’Aris Le monde reste dur, lui trouve un refuge