#sloth-bones

[bothsloth-originals]

MULTIMEDIA PROJECT PLANNING 🔥🔥🔥

(this is for a grade 😈)

[kinardsevan]

I can’t believe I have to address this again, but since it’s clear the Buddies have started to trickle into Empty Bones…

Yall, have your ship. I could care less. But I s2g the next person who sends me a review telling me they think Eddie’s actions are “hot” or that they’re disappointed they aren’t together… GO FIND ANOTHER FIC. That is not and NEVER WILL be the reality of which Empty Bones is based in. Not to mention, it’s so cheapening to make a story so heavily based in dealing with severe, complex trauma all about a ship.

Or did you miss the part where we’re in chapter 19 now and Evan and Tommy still haven’t had sex? [/rant]

[allegorypaintings]

Allegory of Temperance

Artist: Luca Giordano (Italian, 1634-1705)

Series: Modelli for the Palazzo Medici Riccardi, Florence

Date: Early 1680's

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: The National Gallery, London, United Kingdom

Description

This modello, or detailed oil study, is one of a group of 12 that Giordano made in preparation for the ceiling frescoes in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi in 1682–85. Ten of the modelli are in the National Gallery'​s collection, and this one represents ​one of the four Cardinal Virtues. First identified by the philosopher Plato, these were later adopted by the Roman Catholic Church. A different Virtue is depicted in each corner of the ceiling.

Here the Virtue is Temperance, shown as a young woman wearing an armoured breastplate and leaning on an elephant, then regarded as strong but cautious animals. Beside her stands Sobriety and together they triumph over Sloth (languishing on the left), Envy (in the centre) and Hunger (to the right, chewing on a bone). The figures flying above the scene are probably Voluptuousness (holding a winged sphere and fish hooks), Youth (in the centre) and Tranquility (with a cornucopia and a white bird in a nest).

[sigery]

Chaos brings Shattered bloodmoon home to his pack of other bloodmoons and they’re just like “oh… oh shit.” Because they think they’re going to be sacrificed to these red raccoons

idk why but one of my first thoughts was someone referring to them as a slug. They don't have legs but they aren't very threatening to look at. Just

Bone: ... is that a slug?

Glitter: *confusion* No. Another Bloodmoon, like you

Bone: *looks shattered bloodmoon up and down* Not like me. I'm not that small or squishy.

Chaos: *signs* Bloodling. Baby. Careful.

I mean in a way they might be 'sacrificed'. Drop them into the middle of a blanket pile and they sink into it. Chaos won't actually put them down yet. He will sit down, keeping them on his lap to let the others see and maybe pat.

Wrath and Sloth don't stick around after some quick introductions. They have someone to 'visit'.

[morggo]

It's been hard keeping this under wraps for a minute, haha. I'm doing a pin set with exclusive artwork! The Kickstarter begins next week, but you can follow it here right now!

[slothquisitor]

I LOVE CAMINA!! I'm so enthralled with your Lucanis x Rook - you've given me even MORE reasons to adore Lucanis and Spite!!

Oh my goodness, thank you! I love you for loving her! She's so fun to write, and I'm just out here trying to do my part to add to the Lucanis x Rook agenda. <3

[honourablejester]

If ever a beast looked primordial. Wow.

Joyous Wet Beast Wednesday to those who observe.

[princes-of-perdition]

Hello

Welcome to this train wreck of a blog

These ocs have nothing to do with any existing media and we’re entirely created by l @iaminyourbones

If any of them are similar to existing characters then mod either took inspiration or, most likely, it is complete coincidence because nothing mod creates will ever be considered original.

A short explanation of the world:

This world is similar to our own, at least life is. It’s in death where things are different. Hell is ruled by seven demon princes, each one representing one of the seven deadly sins. Satan is more of a mascot character if we’re going to be honest.

One day, Evander [our main character] ended up stumbling upon a wiki.how article on “How to summon a demon”

As a bored burnt out collage student would, he decided to try it not believing it would do anything.

Long story short, Evander didn’t only summon one demon, but the seven princes of hell themselves!

Here you can chat with Evander, his siblings, friends, and the demon princes

Characters will be added over time as mod get them more fleshed out

Each character will be represented by in emoji during conversation

Current characters are

🫀- Eros, demon of Lust

🔥- Ulysses, demon of Wrath

🌀- Vero, demon of Sloth

🐍- Zavis, demon of Envy

⭐️- Kauri, demon of Greed

💜- Cassius, demon of Pride

🦷- Ambrose, demon of Gluttony

🖌️- Evander, the main character

🌕- Onyx, Evander’s older sibling

🌸- Beatryx[Bea], Evander’s younger sister

🛼- Alvira, Evander’s friend and Onyx’s girlfriend

Click on the character’s emojis to see a full intro to them

Feel free to ask the mod questions as well

Mod answers will be represented by 🦴

Each character will also have their own tag

Please specify which character you want to talk to, otherwise mod will answer as himself

[kinardsevan]

Chapters: 22/? Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Bobby Nash, Athena Grant, Maddie Buckley, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Original Characters Additional Tags: tw: sexual assault, not Eddie-friendly, Major canon divergence, Restraints, Bad Things Happen Bingo, You can scream all you want, Manipulation, Physical Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Anxiety, Whump, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Forced Orgasm, Forced Ejaculation, Lots of hurt/lots of comfort, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Tommy Kinard Needs A Hug, Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Evan "Buck" Buckley Loves Tommy Kinard, Tommy Kinard Loves Evan "Buck" Buckley, Protective Tommy Kinard, Major Character Injury, Rape Recovery, Rape Aftermath, Athena Grant and Bobby Nash are Evan "Buck" Buckley's Parents, Protective Bobby Nash, trauma therapy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Five Stages of Grief (without bargaining) Chapter 22 is live

[remorsefulheart]

So I'm a sedentary piece of shit, and recently I started doing workouts, starting with those 35 to 40 minutes videos on youtube. Every time I finish a set, I want to give up, but then my brain says "girl the Sloth..." and I keep going

[strayingawayy]

dream a little dream of me...

...the one where chan arrives home just in time to kiss you to sleep.

this one is for @knowbites <333

chan and his big feet try hard, but they're never really quiet. you hear him before the door clicks like it’s trying not to wake the house. considering the house has you and a little black cat inside, it's already up.

you roll over, one eye barely open, the other still dreaming.

there's a rustle, a sigh, the sound of a jacket hitting the back of the chair, a whispered swear under his breath when he hits his toe against a piece of furniture. classic chan.

he enters the space where you lie and immediately steps into the bathroom, fresh clothes tucked under his arm. the shower starts with a soft spray, steam curling under the door like it's saying hi. like it's chan's way of saying he missed you.

you let your arm flop across the empty side of the bed.

warm now, because you always leave the blanket turned down for him.

like a note.

like: come home soon, okay?

he does. eventually. because home means you.

he pads into the room with damp hair and tired bones and that goofy boyish smile that shows up just for you because he knows you're awake.

“hello, mysterious lump in my bed,” he whispers with a giggle.

“are you accepting snuggles or are you strictly here to haunt me?”

you stretch one arm out without opening your eyes.

“bring offerings first.”

“what kind?”

“compliments. forehead kisses. percy.”

the black cat, as if summoned, meows sleepily from the foot of the bed. the kind of meow that says he's disappointed by chan's attempt at keeping it down when he entered the house.

chan gasps.

“betrayed by my own son.”

you giggle, and that’s all it takes for him to crawl under the covers, a little cold and a whole lot adorable, wrapping himself around you like a sloth that missed you all day.

“why do your toes feel like icicles?” you mumble, letting him settle into you.

“because i walked through the tundra to get to you.”

“baby, you parked in the garage.”

“emotionally, it was a tundra.”

you let him press his face into your neck and inhale dramatically.

“you smell like the lavender detergent," you mumble without having to sniff him closely.

“you smell like sleep and the leftover scent of your conditioner. and love. and also possibly… cat fur?”

“he sheds when he’s proud,” you yawn before kissing chan lazily. “you should’ve told him he was handsome.”

“i did. he blinked at me slowly. i think i’m forgiven for the tuna thing from monday," he mumbles against your lips, very dedicated to the kiss and telling you about percy's recent behaviour towards him.

chan shifts closer, lips now brushing the shell of your ear.

“did you miss me or just the foot warmer function?”

“mostly the foot warmer. but also your stupid jokes. and your arms. and that thing where you kiss my shoulder like it’s the most interesting place in the world.”

he kisses your shoulder now, slow.

“it is the most interesting place in the world. all the best dreams start there.”

you giggle again, sleepy and full of that dumb, glowing joy that makes your chest feel fizzy.

he rubs your back lazily, half a circle, then stops before kissing the corner of your mouth.

“i told hyunjin i missed your laugh and he told me to write a poem about it and sell it on etsy.”

“i would buy that. do you think it comes with a scented candle?”, you ask against his lips.

“probably in the scent of ‘emotional stability and forehead kisses.’”

“i love you all silly and tired like this.” you whisper, sinking into him as your words start to slur with sleep.

he smiles into your hair, kissing your hairline now. god, this man and his kisses will be the death of you.

“same. now go to sleep before i start reciting sonnets in my worst australian accent.”

you snort, already half gone.

outside, the city hums like background music.

inside, he holds you like a pillow he never wants to give back.

and just before you drift completely, you hear him say, quiet and grinning:

“goodnight, lovebug. dream a little dream of me. featuring lots of making out. and percy.”

you fall asleep with a smile. like you always do when you're in his arms.

[obeythebutler]

Humans have always been so fickle, Michael muses sometimes.

Slave to the seven sins that are rooted in their souls, destruction imminent unless they redeem themselves. Be it greed or envy or gluttony, which desires and demands and takes and takes even when there is none left, or wrath and lust and pride and sloth, which brings ruin.

You, however, are an exception.

Seven Avatars at your beck and call—oops—did he mention the Prince and the demon of Time?

Nine now. Working from the shadows.

His eyes caught the markings when you came to Babel, seven sigils on your body, covered under clothing but shining with the brightness of a thousand Suns to him.

Testament stamped into your very bones.

Lilith's divinity still runs in your blood, seeps into your soul. Immunity from the corruption embedded in the Devildom, temptation turned into strength.

He had seen you take down inhumane creatures with your power: a flick of your wrist, a spell on the tip of your tongue, seven demons at your beck and call. Ready to destroy and tear out flesh, maws dripping with blood. Going back to sit at the feet of their Master after, waiting for the next command. A shepherd and seven ravenous wolves in sheep's clothing who discard their disguise when needed.

Tamer of beasts, truly, you are.

Anyone else in your position would have been caught in rapture, mind drunk with the power in their veins. Solomon the Great, Solomon the Wise, Solomon the King has been only able to attempt to form a pact with the other six beings.

Protecting humanity is his goal, but what is yours?

He had asked you once, when you decided to wander off from the Palace to the lake, content in petting a dove. The ornaments on his body clinked as he bent down to admire the creature. What it is that you desire, human? Seven Avatars at your beck and call, yet you make no conquests. What is your motive?

Michael has never been able to gauge your intentions, hidden motives in your latest achievments. Maybe it is riches, or beauty, or power that you would have sought. Maybe even the ability to manipulate Time.

A nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, you let the dove fly away.

So he settled for observing.

The Ring Of Light went missing from his room soon, and Judgement was delivered to Simeon in due time. Back to the Devildom, this time with greying feathers. Sacrilege, he had muttered, but let him take it all the same. Never let him know that he knew what the former seraphim was attempting.

Maybe angels were never meant to be too carefree.

Or maybe He was too rigid.

Your power had grown in due time, surpassing everyone else's. Sent to the past now, when the Devildom was still adapting and unfiltered. A House of Lords watching the brothers every move, deadly trials awaiting the Prince. A nascent realm, ready to pounce and strike upon those deemed weak amongst beasts.

And you stuck in the midst of it all.

Newborn demons, brutal and cruel. Still adapting to the horns sprouting from their heads, the itch in their bones maddening as they accommodated to the wings and tails. Painful metamorphism. And you emerged from it victorious—having gained the trust—and admiration of the rulers of Hell.

What is it that you want, Lilith's descendent?

Lucifer's hand ruffles your hair when he sees you at the dining table, Mammon grabs your hand while leading you through the streets, Leviathan's and your knees touch while you play games on his console. Satan strokes your knuckles as he reads out loud to you, and Asmodeus oils your hair while telling you about his day. Beelzebub and Belpheghor keep you up at night with chatter that deviates from one topic to another.

The Ring of Light sits pretty on your finger, pacts used to neutralise threats and command the siblings to halt.

He never would have envisioned it to be love.

And yet that is all he sees.

And yet so unpredictable.

[alphynix]

Mexidracon longimanus was an ornithomimid dinosaur that lived during the late Cretaceous, about 72 million years ago, in what is now northern Mexico.

It was a fairly small ornithomimid at around 2.5-3m long (~8-10'), and its leg proportions suggest it was less specialized for fast running than some of its other relatives. But its most unique feature was its hands, with extremely elongated metacarpal bones – giving it palms that were longer than its upper arm!

It's unclear what the function of these unusual limbs was. Possibly they gave Mexidracon extra reach to hook its claws onto foliage and pull it within reach of its head, in a similar manner to ground sloths, chalicotheres, and therizinosaurs.

———

NixIllustration.com | Tumblr | Patreon

References:

Nicholles, E. L. "Structure and function of the pectoral girdle and forelimb of Struthiomimus altus (Theropoda: Ornithomimidae)." Palaeontology 28 (1985): 619-628. https://www.palass.org/publications/palaeontology-journal/archive/28/4/article_pp643-677

Serrano-Brañas, Claudia Inés, et al. "A long-handed new ornithomimid dinosaur from the Campanian (Upper Cretaceous) Cerro del Pueblo Formation, Coahuila, Mexico." Cretaceous Research (2025): 106087. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cretres.2025.106087

Wikipedia contributors. “Mexidracon” Wikipedia, 05 Apr. 2025, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mexidracon

Yirka, Bob. "New genus and species within Ornithomimidae dinosaur family identified in Mexico" Phys.org, 03 Feb. 2025, https://phys.org/news/2025-02-genus-species-ornithomimidae-dinosaur-family.html

[amnhnyc]

On National Poop Day, we share ancient poop! Can you guess which animal made this well-preserved mess? A giant ground sloth! This specimen was found in Mylodon Cave in Chile. Bones of giant ground sloths have been found near those of early humans, hinting that ground sloths and early humans used the same caves, though not necessarily at the same time.

[divinit3a]

show me your teeth! -> (ao3 link)

reader x yeti!moon ❄️ word count: 1,312 You never were much of a survivalist sort. Without the help of the 'ice devil' before you, you'd long since be a popsicle left forgotten in the mountains. Vanessa was right; you never should've left town without her. But luck had it you found a different tour guide. Not without ample struggle first.

"Could you do that again?" You ask, watching as the yeti slowly and methodically maneuvers around. Each step he takes is calculated well before his metal paws touch the icy surface of the terrain.

Moon's back is turned to you. Wearing a long, draping cap that ombres from a pastel lilac to a mosaic of stars. A light gust of frigid wind rustles the pristine white fur of his coat wrappings.

A slight twitch of his glacial horns, readjusting in their slots on his faceplate, indicates that the lumbering giant is listening to you, despite his choice to stay silent. He bends at his knee joints, squatting to start pulling a fishing line out from the chunks of ice. Hunting for the hooks, the gleams of silver that could catch upon the wildlife in this area.

Further out, where the mouth of the cavern yawns open, is a watercolor splash sunset. The beginning signs that night is approaching. Floes break off the solid chunks of glacial ice, drifting out to the inky void of the ocean.

You observe Moon for a moment longer, and then, encouraged by the vague gesture of interest, you continue, "Y'know, smile," resting your chin on both your palms, your elbows upon your knees as you lean forward. Whenever you speak, mist curls out from the corners of your mouth. The swirls betray your mischief to the robot a couple yards away.

"no," Moon responds. You fight the urge to instantly react in turn, letting the sloth-like robot take his time as he winds up a fishing wire, "takes too much energy."

A sigh escapes you as you fall back into the powdery snow that dusts the stone outcrops. The darkness of the cavern is split into fractals by the ice draping down from the ceiling in curtains, looking like thousands of tiny crystals. A drained thermos of hot cocoa sits to your left.

According to Moon, you were still a few days out from making it back to town on foot. It didn't help speed matters up that your "guide" only traveled at night, when the temperatures were easily sub-zero. The only other option was to weave through frosty caves, the nightlight glow of Moon all you can follow.

You stretch out your fingers, closing your digits into a fist beneath the dense layers of gloves and mittens. Eyeing a particular icicle that looks like a glittering gemstone. Out of reach.

You turn your head, and look to Moon. The circlet of icicles around his head - six horns, you count — shimmer in the light. The tips of his horns are weathered, a devil only in name and name alone. Frost curls up and down the cold surface of his metalwork frame.

During the day, boredom plagues you as restlessly as the hunger gnawing at your stomach. It was almost time for dinner. Another evening spent relying on your generous guide for a meal. Last night, you hovered by the yeti's side, drooling as he carefully pared off layers of fish scales to expose the juicy meat beneath, nestled between pockets of thin bone. 

You nearly burnt your tongue once you dug into the meal, starved and enthusiastic. That was the moment you first saw Moon smile, as he laughed so quietly into the back of his hand, that you almost missed the rumble of his subdued joy.

You never were much of a survivalist sort. Without the help of the 'ice devil' before you, you'd long since be a popsicle left forgotten in the mountains. Vanessa was right; you never should've left town without her.

But luck had it you found a different tour guide. Not without ample struggle first.

As the quiet settles in, you mull over your options to pass the time. You could help Moon with tidying up—Or! You could continue to badger him. Badgering sounds more tantalizing than cleaning, and so, you press the issue further.

Hopping back up onto your boots, your arms wobble out in a struggle for balance, sliding forward on the ice. Moon stiffens, then resumes his task of winding up the fishing cord.

You pull the puffer jacket you wear tighter around your frame. The jacket has been carefully mended with Moon's help, since Sun's claws nearly tore it to shreds. He was surprisingly good at embroidery, having decorated the jacket where he patched it with a plethora of stars and diamonds, returning it to you with an apology. You hadn't minded being swaddled up in the furs he wears for the time being, actually.

You circle around Moon, expecting the mountain of snowy fluff to respond to your presence. There’s no indication he sees your circling, either playing into the cards or genuinely unaware of your approach.

Feeling playful, you pounce at the robot, arms outstretched to encircle its shockingly lithe framework.

The smile on your face wipes away the instant you feel claws wrap around your wrist to effortlessly lift you into the air. You stand at the tips of your boots, the muscle fibers in your arm stretching and feeling as if they might snap apart thread by thread.

You are pulled up to be eye-level with the hulking, spindly devil, donned with blindingly white furs. Your field of vision is consumed by their face. Your stare widens as the sharp point of their tusks nearly jabs your eyes out.

Steam puffs from the corners of Moon's mouth, briefly fogging up the cold metal on his faceplate with each faux breath. The eye on your left is alive and alert, a vivid LED screen with an acute, digital pupil. The eye on your right — and the side you made the mistake of approaching the yeti on — is a darkened void, metal torn into with deep gashes and corroded with rust.

The warmth of his synthesized 'breath' brushes off your face with a huff of air. Like being sat up right against a furnace, boiling and burning. You watch as silicone shifts, inner mechanisms inside the thin layer of their mask moving to open up the hinge of their jaw. The jaw hinges open at the circle divets at the corners of his mouth; silicone pulled taut to bring out a large, predatory grin. Lined with sharp, jagged, metal teeth that look deadlier than a bear trap.

"happy?" Moon asks. His expression is cast in shadow as the sun sets behind him, leaving only the bright glare of his remaining pupil the source of light you cling onto.

"Y, yes, well, I guess so—" you find your voice enough to stammer. Fear rushes through your body as the muscles in your arm scream, the soles of your boot losing their grip on the ice and causing you to freely dangle from the yeti's iron grip.

All at once, Moon lets go. Dropping you quickly and abruptly down, the decision jarring and sudden. The yeti backs away a few paces, crystalline horns retracting into their face plate as his pupil thins out.

Moon fumbles, caretaking protocols gnashing against his reactive response, quickly sorting through—didn't mean to, reflexes are— before deciding saying nothing at all was better than a half-baked apology seasoned with nonsense excuses. Utterly flavorless.

You are not a threat to him— you couldn't have known that being approached in his blind spot puts him on edge— but humans have not always been kind to what they perceive as nothing more than an eternal beast.

"i'll go check the nets," Moon mutters with a duck of his head away and out of sight, lumbering away with more speed than you've seen him exert in awhile.

You sit there in the snow, and miserably untangle the scarf you wear off your neck, tossing it aside.

The cheerily bright colors of the fabric mock you, waving like a flag in the infinite expanse of the arctic.

[jollmaster]

redesign trivia: Fizzarolli

froge face

looks a lot like Mammon: similar eyes, facial spots, gap in teeth

medieval jester vibe

bright clothes made of colored scraps, very simple and comfortable to do tricks, + soft leather shoes and gloves

chaperon with three "horns" (historically symbolizing donkey ears and tail)

golden bells

often carries an old wolf fur cape to mimic Mammon and serve as king's reflection

always with marotte, fool's scepter, traditional attribute of a jester; Fizz uses it as a walking stick because he limps after breaking hip bone 

CHARLIE'S GANG: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Niffty, sir Pentious (and egg boiz), Cherri Bomb, Husk, Alastor (+ gang as humans)

HEAVEN: Adam, Eve, Lute, Emily, Sera

ADAM AND EVE'S CHILDREN: Cain, Abel, Seth, Awan, Azura

HELL: Lilith, Lucifer, Seviathan, Helsa, Razzle and Dazzle, Baxter

SINS: Asmodeus [Lust], Beelzebub [Gluttony], Satan [Wrath], Mammon [Greed], Belphegor [Sloth]

LUCIFER'S WIVES: Eisheth Zenunim, Naamah, Agrat bat Mahlat

VEES: Vox, Valentino, Velvette

OVERLORDS: Zestial, Rosie, Carmilla Carmine (and her daughters, Odette and Clara), Flaming Skull Guy

FRIENDS AND RELATIVES: Mimzy, Arackniss, Molly, Alastor's mom, Alastor's father