#Kernel fleck

[spadegeistalt]

The Demonata Kah-Gash Trio in the "Draw your comfort characters like this" format from a whiiiiiile ago. They do not look very comfortable, ironically enough hm.

[cbarc]

The Demon Thief

it’s reobsessing over childhood books time again and listen I get it sometimes a guys gotta steal a demon baby from another dimension call it his brother just to stave off the lonelies yknow

[viktors-wonderful-world]

Dervish and Kernel art

ignore the fact these sketches are goofy ah, I did them during class instead of working.

Mohawks are hard to draw anyways-

[toasterghostie]

Peace and love on the planet earth <- got a second kudos on my dead fandom rare pair fanfic

[thequicksilvermagician]

kernel is oddly relatable in the fact that i also see weirdly shaped colours that nobody else can see

[elite-amarys]

Kai moreso lumbers over to Amarys than walks, head and back pulling along before her legs. She looks around, cheery, friendly as ever, and with a Metagross hot in pursuit.

"Hello! Amarys! Kernel is being quite aggressive today!"

@bee-bee-kyuu

Amarys freezes, watching in horror as her friend shambles over. It is really no different than her normal stance, which is just as still and blank-faced as this one, but still.

'They are deteriorating faster than anticipated.' She thinks.

"Yes, they are incredibly eager to banish the evil which has commandeered your body." She responds bluntly. And indeed, the small Metagross is practically on top of Kai's feet, audibly humming with barely contained murderous intent. Amarys concluded that she would not be having any luck convincing Kernel to return to their pokeball at this point.

She straightens her back (unnecessarily) and steals herself to continue onward. She had no better leads, and something had to be done now.

"If Flecks wants their treat, they must leave your body in its entirety." She informs Kai, hands steady on the container of biscuits she had received from Snacksworth.

[shadowqueenjude]

So I'm kind of obsessed with evil Tam Tam now so I rewrote the Rhysand death scene in ACOWAR. Enjoy!

Stay with the High Lord. The Suriel’s last warning. Stay … and live to see everything righted. A lie. A lie, as Rhys had lied to me. Stay with the High Lord. Stay. For there … the torn scraps of the mating bond. Floating on a phantom wind inside me. I grasped at them—tugged at them, as if he’d answer. Stay. Stay, stay, stay. I clung to those scraps and remnants, clawing at the void that lurked beyond. Stay. I looked up at Tarquin, lip curling back from my teeth. Looked at Helion. And Thesan. And Beron and Kallias, Viviane weeping at his side. And I snarled, “Bring him back.” Blank faces. I screamed at them, “BRING HIM BACK.” Nothing. “You did it for me,” I said, breathing hard. “Now do it for him.” “You were a human,” Helion said carefully. “It is not the same—” “I don’t care. Do it.” When they didn’t move, I rallied the dregs of my power, readying to rip into their minds and force them, not caring what rules or laws it broke. I wouldn’t care, only if— Tarquin stepped forward. He slowly extended his hand toward me. “For what he gave,” Tarquin said quietly. “Today and for many years before.” And as that seed of light appeared in his palm … I began crying again. Watched it drop onto Rhys’s bare throat and vanish into the skin beneath, an echo of light flaring once. Helion stepped forward. That kernel of light in his hand flickered as it fell onto Rhys’s skin. Then Kallias. And Thesan. Until only Beron stood there. Mor drew her sword and laid it on his throat. He jerked, having not even seen her move. “I do not mind making one more kill today,” she said. Beron gave her a withering glare, but shoved off the sword and strode forward. He practically chucked that fleck of light onto Rhys. I didn’t care about that, either. I didn’t know the spell, the power it came from. But I was High Lady. I held out my palm. Willing that spark of life to appear. Nothing happened. I took a steadying breath, remembering how it had looked. “Tell me how,” I growled to no one. Thesan coughed and stepped forward. Explaining the core of power and on and on and I didn’t care, but I listened, until— There. Small as a sunflower seed, it appeared in my palm. A bit of me—my life. I laid it gently on Rhys’s blood-crusted throat. And I realized, just as he appeared, what was missing. Tamlin stood there, summoned by either the death of a fellow High Lord or one of the others around me. He was splattered in mud and gore, his new bandolier of knives mostly empty. He studied Rhys, lifeless before me. Studied all of us—the palms still out. There was no kindness on his face. No mercy. “Please,” was all I said to him. Then Tamlin glanced between us—me and my mate. His face did not change. “Please,” I wept. “I will—I will give you anything—” Something shifted in his eyes at that. But not kindness. No emotion at all. I laid my head on Rhysand’s chest, listening for any kind of heartbeat through that armor. “Anything,” I breathed to no one in particular. “Anything.” Steps scuffed on the rocky ground. I braced myself for another set of hands trying to pull me away, and dug my fingers in harder. The steps remained behind me for long enough that I looked. Tamlin stood there. Staring down at me. Those green eyes swimming with some emotion I couldn’t place.

"No."

I sobbed. "Please, Tamlin. Please. I will do anything." Tamlin smiled, and it was purely animal, nothing but vicious triumph in his stare. "I already have everything I want." I stilled as I recalled the words from all those months ago. When Tamlin had begged Rhysand to end the bargain, that he'd give him anything he wanted. And Rhysand had replied with those words. The words Tamlin now flung back at me.

I snarled. "You bastard-" Beron's wicked smile threatened to undo me. I lost it, jumping at Tamlin. A hard shield had me bouncing on my ass to the unforgiving grass. "You may possess a small kernel of each of our powers," Tamlin said quietly, with nothing but venom in his voice, "but I am a High Lord. And you will do well to remember that."

I stared at the bastard I once loved who had somehow become everything I came to hate. "How can you claim to love me if you won't do this for me?"

Tamlin continued to smile that vicious, vicious smile. "You don't get to rewrite the narrative. You don't get to spin this to your advantage." Throwing back my words from the High Lord meeting back to me. He had remembered, it seemed. Every damned, cursed word. "I saved your life back at the Hybern's camp," he continued in that quiet voice. "After everything you did. I owe you nothing. The man who loved you died the moment you decided your petty grudge against me was reason enough to reduce my innocent people to cinders."

Tears flowed freely from my face now. My stupid revenge plan had ruined everything. Lucien had been right. I should've listened. But it was too late. I could only watch in horror as Rhysand's body was reduced to nothing but dark mist, as the kernels from each of the High Lords flowed directly into the chest of Tamlin.

A heartbeat later, small balls of fire danced around his fingertips. Then dark mist. Then water. Tamlin stared at his fingers, entranced. "Thank you, Feyre, for this wonderful gift." Then he winnowed away, leaving my broken heart waiting on the other side. Even as some numb part of me registered the fact that the Night Court's land had chosen me as its next leader.

[wordchanter]

5 Random Magic Potions

A waterskin filled with a coagulated pearl oil with amber flecks floating in it. When opened it smells of fermented fruits. When consumed it increases agility. The waterskin holds enough for a single use.

A leather waterskin filled with a viscous taupe oil with cinnamon kernels drifting in it. When unstoppered it smells of sulfur. When smeared on it inflicts paralysis. The leather waterskin holds enough for a single use.

A glass bottle filled with a dilute tan solution with desert speckles floating in it. When uncorked it smells of melon. When consumed it causes brief confusion. There is enough solution for 3 uses.

A drinking horn filled with a syrupy aquamarine oil with citrine and beige speckles suspended in it. When opened it smells of ash and burnt hair. When quaffed it dissolves flesh. The drinking horn holds enough for 5 uses.

A ceramic jar filled with a clotted alabaster balm with golden specks drifting in it. When unstoppered it reeks of sulfur and burnt hair. When applied it causes extreme panic. There is enough balm for a single use.

[yuri-is-online]

Seeing that anon question about Yutu's grandparents and all I can think of now it The Demonata series by Darren Shan, specifically Demon Thief (Book 2 of the series) spoilers but in the book the main character, Kernel Fleck ends up travelling through different demonic worlds searching for his brother who was stolen by demons. Unfortunately for Kernal and his parents, the demon worlds work on a "An hour inside, a year outside" rules and by the time Kernal's returned seven years had passed and his parents had more or less moved on (They still mourned their sons, but had come to terms with it) and his reappearance just reopened that wound as well as an uncomfortable can of worms on just how to explain his ageless reappearance sans baby brother to the neighbors. Effectively time passes and Kernal's parents begin to resent him for coming back and upending their lives and stuff and I just-!

Thinking about the tragedy of some people's Yuu's where it might start off as their families searching high and low, their faces plastered everywhere back home for any clues slowly turning to mourning Yuu. Either holding out hope that they'll be found but getting on with their lives or even hoping their dead, because the alternative isn't really better, is it? Years and years pass, families might even break up from the stress and pain of it all, then one day Yuu's found. Or they just show up on your doorstep confused and pregnant with no answers and you're not really sure you can or even want to deal with this now that thier here.

Or something aahhhh (lays down) This made sense when I started typing...

It makes perfect sense to me furu

The loss of a child is extremely traumatic and does often result in the breakup of families. If Yuu had a family who cared for them, the Yutuverse is a very tragic place for them to be. They get Yuu back, but it's not the Yuu they lost. You never get the person who went missing back and that's hard for a lot of families to accept.

No one really wins in the bad timeline, or the actual game if I'm honest. If Yuu really is dead then their family might have closure, but they still had to bury a child and no one wants to do that.

[divinemare]

-ˏˋ⋆ 𝔄 𝔠 𝔬 𝔲 𝔯 𝔱 𝔬 𝔣 𝔤 𝔬 𝔡 𝔰 𝔞 𝔫 𝔡 𝔪 𝔬 𝔫 𝔰 𝔱 𝔢 𝔯 𝔰 ⋆ˊˎ-

└──» ✎ 。 Azriel x Oc

part seven

┊✧*｡ ✯┊☪︎⋆✧*｡ ┊

Things just had gotten worse and worse. Now she only received visits from Cassian, and very, very occasionally; from Mor. Azriel had been taken to Court, since his shadowsinger abilities were useful to the High Lord, Rhys was off with his own company, and Mor was also at Court, and off fighting. Cassian had been the only one left at the Illyrian camps, often having to fly away, but still, her only company.

It had also been months since she had seen Alhena and Valeria. But, just about two weeks ago, before things got even more complicated when some of the Courts —including the Night Court—, had decided to free their slaves and fight alongside humans, she had met Tamlin.

Rhysand had come up to her and said it was safe, that he trusted Tamlin to keep it a secret, and so he took her to the forest way past the war camp, where her brother was already waiting for them.

At first, it had been so damn awkward she had wanted to turn back and forget it had ever happened, but then, when he saw the genuine curiosity in his eyes, she decided to stay.

“You don’t look like my sister,” had been the first thing either of them had said, and they had both laughed off their nerves.

They really didn’t had much physical resemblance, only for the deep green eyes flecked with gold. He was much bigger than her, even tho he was younger, with golden blond hair in comparison with her rich brown hair. His skin was also paler than hers, while hers was mixed. He looked disturbingly way too much like his brothers and father, while she could only guess she had taken after her mother, with the exception of her eyes.

Their meeting had been brief, since Rhys had to get back to Court, and so did Tamlin, but they promised to continue to communicate with each other through Rhys. Mareena was very glad that Rhysand had been right; Tamlin was not like the rest of his family.

She hadn’t stoped thinking about their interaction, and they had been sending each other notes with a bit of magic Rhys had taught her, getting to know each other a little bit. Things weren’t as bad as they could be, at least, she had her writing, Cassian, and…

The door bursted open with so much force it startled her. Rhysand entered the cabin in a hurry, his face pale and panting and a look of absolute terror.

“Rhys, what’s-”

She didn’t got time to finish her question, he hurried to her, grabbing her by the arm and almost dragging her with him.

“We have to go, he found out, he found out you’re here, he’s pissed, very, very pissed, and I can’t protect you from him, Mor will take you with Drakon, he’s a friend of mine, Seraphim, so he’s out of our law and-“

“Rhys!” She yanked her arm and stoped him in his tracks, looking at him completely confused.

“Slow down, please, what are you talking about? Did my father…?” She couldn’t finish her sentence, her heart was pounding so heart in her chest she felt in in her ears.

“No, not yours, mine. He found the scripts you gave my mom and Valeria and manipulated Valeria until she accidentally told him. He’s surely on his way right now, we have to go, I’ll explain everything else to you later, just trust-“

“Please, son, why don’t you explain everything right now.”

A voice so deep and malevolent sounded behind her back, making every hair in her body stand on end. She saw Rhys’s face drain of color and in his eyes flashed a kernel of fear before he quickly hide it. His grasp on her tightening to the level she felt it hurt, but said nothing, as she knew he was desperate to try to keep her with him.

But then, she turned around, and right at the opened door, stood the most imposing male she had ever seen in her life. Rhett, if she remembered correctly, was his name, High Lord of the Night Court, and Rhys’s terrifying father.

They shared the same violet eyes, the same raven black hair, but that was it. This male in front of her had not a single but of the gentleness and charming demeanor of his son. This male right here was rough and imposing and even slightly terrifying.

She remembered the feeling that now was cursing through her veins; she had felt that same fear the day she met the King of Hybern. Yet another male that looked like he could absolutely destroy even the her soul. She added him to the already existing list.

“Father,” Rhys’ voice had never sounded so cold, and she had to remind herself who she had behind her to not feel a much bigger tuck of fear.

“Now, I’m waiting for the delightful explanation,” the older male looked between his son and her, and Mareena wondered just how many he had looked like that before killing them.

“Father, she’s-“

“No, no, son, I know exactly who she is, what I do not know, is why she is here.”

He got a step closer to her, and all that crippling fear that triggered the raw power inside her shot through her body.

But no, she had to get a hold on herself, she couldn’t let that power out, the fear to make it explode.

“She’s a friend, Father, my friend, and she’s under my protection,” Rhysand’s neck was so tensed, she feared a vein would pop, his face so cold and serious, but his eyes so troubled, she felt a lump on her chest for him.

Rhett bursted a cold laugh that chilled Mareena’s bones and made her want to back away, but she did not move an inch, she felt as if she was frozen in place.

“Under your protection? And what does your protection mean, boy?”

He got closer again, and Mareena’s panic was rising by the second those hard, cruel eyes stared into hers. She felt it, felt the need to let that thing inside her free and make the male back away, but she couldn’t put herself at risk like that, she couldn’t put Rhys at risk like that. And so she swallow it, and did not look down.

“Your father has been looking for you, child, and he’s been a pain in the ass to everyone about it.”

“He’s not my father,” her tone had been harsher than intended, and when the male raised an eyebrow at her, she cleared her throat with fear clinging at her stomach. “He’s not my father, sire. He’s the man that stole my life away.”

“Sounds like Jalus,” he nodded, and Mareena tensed at her father’s name. She hadn’t heard it since she left the Spring Manor all those years ago.

“Father, you won’t have to deal with her, I’ll take care of her, she’ll go with the Seraphim and you won’t have to deal with the High Lord of Spring,” Rhett looked at his son as if he was a stupid little boy.

“Take her away? I don’t think so, son. I want to know why Jalus was so secretive about you, what is so special about you that he moved heavens and earth to find you. Tell me, child, what is it that you posses that makes you so important to him?”

This time, he advanced two steps towards her, and Rhysand, sensing her terror, tried to pull her away, but Rhett was not about to allow her to go anywhere, and grabbed her other arm with so much force she moaned in pain.

“You don’t even look that much like him, so you’re obviously a bastard, not a common one, for sure, he wouldn’t have cared if you died or lived in that case, but he went mad looking for you, what. are. you.”

He squeezed harder, making her moan again.

“Father, please,” Rhys tried to intervine, but the male pushed his son with a flick of power to the other side of her room.

“What. Are. You,” he screamed this time, squeezing even harder.

Mareena’s fear was too much to control then, the pain in her arm and the panic in her veins made it too hard to control the outburst of power that bursted from her.

In a wave of pure white light, she made the ground at their feet shake, and the man in front of her to feel as powerless as she felt terrified.

She cried and clutched her eyes shot, pressing her palms to her ears while the painful wave of power seemed to talk to her, telling her to let go.

She was at her knees before she knew it, and started hearing a scream in her mind that she recognize as Rhysand’s desperate voice.

A pair of arms wrapped around her and winced at the contact, her skin was burning hot while the white power still poured off her. But when she felt Rhys’s sweet whispers, and his powers on her mind helping her calm down, her cries died down and she stoped slowly feeling the burning.

Minutes passed between her ragged breaths and Rhysand’s. He stroked with gentleness her hair and murmured that he was not going to let go of her.

“Interesting,” a voice sounded far, yet near her.

When she raised her head, she saw the High Lord of the Night Court standing from the floor with the wall’s help. His eyes were hungry, impressed, and even more terrifying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she muttered with shaky breaths.

“Father, please don’t hurt her,” Rhysand wasn’t letting go of her, holding her while his father approach them with a predatory ease.

“She’s dangerous, son, and I can’t let her go back to her father, he’s going to use it as a weapon to all of us,” he was getting closer and closer, and with each step, Mareena felt that her death, too, was getting closer.

“She won’t go back, he will not find her, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Please, sire, I’ll do anything,” she murmured, looking up at him again.

She wasn’t about to die at the hands of another awful male like him, she hadn’t escaped from her father for things to end like this.

“Anything?” The male raised an eyebrow, cruelty flashing in his violet eyes.

She nodded, and heard Rhys’ loud gulp.

“Then how about a bargain, Miss Mareena.”

[spadegeistalt]

The Demonata Shitpost compilation might do more mayhaps

[decidentia]

◈   @shellcrack  //  starter

Cutting through the resinous scent of pine needles, through the earthy notes of rotting mulch and fungus, came the reek of blood. Its coppery, metallic tang filled Farkas’ nose, strong enough to coat the back of his throat, to lie thick on his tongue. A red ribbon was what pulled him through the fringes of woodland, deeper into the forest’s feathered heart.

Mankind could not help but leave a mark. A desolation of tree stumps, like coarse stubble, greeted him as he approached the isolated homestead. Pens that had once housed livestock now guarded their remains. Putrid and bloated, the stiff-legged, round-bellied creatures lay in their own filth, oozing from every orifice. The cool light of Farkas’ pewter gaze traced the rims of crow-picked eye sockets, quick to focus on the door which hung open in dark promise. Blood formed a lacquer – so dark it was almost black – that drip-dried down the front steps, staining the grain and soaking into the pores of the wood.

This scene of humble domesticity had been the site of a slaughter. Farkas was no stranger to horror, but still he felt a kernel of dread sprout in his chest. Boots creaked and dove-tail joists whined as he mounted the steps, congealed pools crackling beneath his heavy footfall. Being both a monster and a monster of a man, he was too big for homely spaces; he was forced to duck his head to enter the cabin, the ruin inside reflected dully in his steel breastplate. Sparse furniture had been reduced to splintered kindling, and all was dusted by the ash and cinders that spewed from the cold fireplace. Shutters were closed, the only light that entered the space pushed in behind him, casting his shadow tall and broad.

A massacre. Bodies pulled apart. Two – Farkas counted – identifying them by the ribcages that yawned open like bear traps, vomiting their innards. Maggots writhed ecstatic in gnawed flesh while their blue-sheen parents buzzed black and fat, rubbing their hands together in filthy glee, feasting on the splatters of gore that painted the vaulted ceiling. At the stink, he closed a hand over his nose and mouth, that cloying decay softened by the leather that covered his palm. No lives to save here, no murderer to apprehend, not even an unspoiled larder to raid. He turned as if to leave.

And then he heard it. The softest of whimpers, the rapid tick of a frantic heartbeat. Heaped in a corner, gore-flecked sheets heaved and mewled. Farkas thought of a she-cat’s nest, of the helplessness of newborn kittens, all milky breath and dandelion-fluff fur. Through the tangle of torn linen, he glimpsed birch-pale limbs and wild brown hair. The shroud slipped lower, revealing impossibly wide and round blue eyes, glassy in terror, red-rimmed from long-spent tears. A girl.

Farkas approached, looming over her before he thought to make himself small, to settle onto one knee. He reached out a gauntleted hand, proffering it to her as though she were a kicked stray, a hag-ridden mare.

“Easy, child.”

[phoenixprjct]

📚 Demon Thief is bigger, bolder, and even bloodier than Lord Loss - In-Depth Review 📚

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Author (Platform): Darren Shan (Kindle)

Publisher (Release): HarperCollins (2011)

Packed with magic, demons, and all the horror a reader could wish for, Demon Thief is a smashing successor to the series’s first instalment Lord Loss. Riveting adventures and visceral vistas create a world of pure imagination, and the arcs of characters compliment the horror with relatable emotions. However, Demon Thief’s juicy expansion of its lore pales in comparison to the terrific twists it has in store for the reader. Action-packed and powerful, it’s no surprise that Demon Thief is one of my favourite books ever.

For the full review and more posts like it, follow me here and visit my site:

[toasterghostie]

A few Demonata head cannons (post hells heroes):

- Grubbs has a lot of blankets around the house and especially his room and hates the cold because of the trauma from when he returned home in the first book to the freezing house.

- Grubbs also hates harsh overhead lighting because it reminds him of the mental institute so he has replaced all the bulbs with warm toned ones and rarely lights them in favour of the lamps in each room, he smashed all the old bulbs against a wall.

- Bec begins to get anxious if she's in a confined space for an extended period of time and after the end of hells heroes can only stay in the house for so long before having to get out to calm her nerves, some nights are better than others and she can stay inside for a good while but most of the time shes out fixing the universe to avoid going home.

-Kernel hates the dark and has several night lights and small battery powered lights/candles in his room,

- Grubbs is the only one that eats regularly and watches TV: Kernel didn't need to eat much when exploring with Beranabus and never got overly interested in watching TV but will occasionally humour Grubbs and watch something with him but never alone, Bec having absorbed all knowledge from destroying the universe has seen every film and knows all the spoilers, she doesn't eat often as she has the experiences of others eating but will sometimes give in to curiosity and try something for herself for the first time.

- Beranabus fucking loves wine and could hold his liquor well (because half demon) but he would get through most of/finish a second bottle then immediately start bawling, (like he would still be coherent and reasonable until he finished of another six to ten bottles but he would just be constantly crying)

-Kernel had to deal with drunk Beranabus every time, he is now really good at managing drunks,

- Grubbs and Kernel "grow up" a bit physically in the time it's taking them to piece the universe back together but Bec remains in her current form as she wants her chance to grow up with Bran this time.

-Grubbs and Bill E loved watching Shrek together and he occasionally writes "Shrek is love, Shrek is life" in random demon lands, Bec has whacked him for this, Kernel still hasn't seen it yet and is really confused.

- Kernel loves reading in his off time and especially mystery novels but will secretly gush over romance novels.

- Kernel and Grubbs occasionally go and throw rocks at lord loss, they promised to let him live they never said comfortably

- Loch Gossel and Grubbs kissed once after wrestling practice before he started dating his sister, they never talked about it again or told anyone else.

- They have a cleaning rota for the house so they don't rely too much on their magic to keep the place clean.

- Kernel has tried to grow hair with magic and it failed, he then messed with Grubb's hair with magic to feel better, Grubbs was stuck with blue hair with pink patches for a week until he looked in a mirror,

- They play chess tournaments to determine who's going to deal with the annoying tasks for the day.

- Kernel is afraid to return to his parents after rebuilding the universe because he doesn't want to make them hate him again accidentally.

- Grubbs doesn't know if he's going to hug or punch his dad in the face when he returns for cheating on his mum,

- Dervish and Meera used to have wine nights when she would visit and occasionally Grubbs would find them cuddling on the sofa blackout drunk, they both ignored him when he asked them about it the next day.

- Timas Braus is a lightweight with alcohol and adores karaoke when drunk, he sings Rasputin every time at least once

[theydoitforher]

hehe thank u for the tag! damn this was harder than expected to only pick five across diff media

tagging @jarcheyevist and @ivaryn0 🫡

5 Favourite Characters Poll (Tag Game)

I was tag by: @star-mum

Rules: make a poll with five of your all time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favourite.

Thanks you so much for the tag

Tags <3: @meeks-beas @practically-an-x-man @outer-space-face @trashworldblog @mydearlybeloathed

[thequicksilvermagician]

★ hello all you shansters out there! welcome to my blog!!

★ my name’s joe but if you’d like you can call me the magician! and i use they/them pronouns

★ this is a darren shan fan blog for several of his series including:

The Demonata

The Saga of Darren Shan (books + manga)

The Saga of Larten Crepsley

★ unfortunately no Zom-B yet but hopefully i can read through the series soon and let it join the roster on the blog!

★ my favourite characters from across Mr Shan’s work are:

Kirilli Kovacs

Meera Flame

Kernel Fleck

Dervish Grady

Bec MacConn

Larten Crepsley

★ there’ll be spoilers on this blog for all of the above series but all that stuff is probably old news but it should be known i’m still not finished the books yet! so i’d appreciate it if i wasn’t spoiled lol

★ book update corner (where i am in each series):

completed The Demonata :)

early The Lake of Souls (The Saga of Darren Shan)

start of Palace of the Damned (The Saga of Larten Crepsley)

★ hopefully once i’m done reading the books i can finally share any art i make of my faves! and even maybe a vampire oc i made??

★ i follow, like and send asks through my main blog @realjoehours!

★ feel free to send me asks about anything i’d especially love to hear other people’s headcanons for characters and stuff!

★ the dividers featured in this post can be found here and my icon and header are from first issue of the darren shan manga (i just couldn’t resist crepsley being all dramatic)

★ it should be noted that i call the author darren shan mr shan, mr darren or mr darren shan so i can distinguish between him and the character

★ and with all that said i guess i should end this post with the only natural thing

“Even in death may you be triumphant”

the dramatic crepsley and darren meeting in the manga (as a treat)