malsticate

[malsticate]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐖𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐓 ? ────── #soulsfeasted, brewed adoringly by mocha.

[malsticate]

hello, everyone ! due to some unfortunate circumstances, i've decided to open up emergency commissions. i've tried my best to keep my prices affordable 💖 if you could please reblog this post to let people know i am open to new projects, that would be much appreciated ! right now i am offering base icons, dash icons, icon borders, headers, pinned posts, backgrounds, promos, & psd +/- border insertion. thank you in advance for sharing.

[malsticate]

hello, everyone ! due to some unfortunate circumstances, i've decided to open up emergency commissions. i've tried my best to keep my prices affordable 💖 if you could please reblog this post to let people know i am open to new projects, that would be much appreciated ! right now i am offering base icons, dash icons, icon borders, headers, pinned posts, backgrounds, promos, & psd +/- border insertion. thank you in advance for sharing.

[malsticate]

working on my carrd again, this muse list will be the death of me.

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back from my nap ! inbox call while i do icons.

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gonna nap ! y'all should write me things :3c send in unprompted asks, write me starters, plot with me in IMs ! i want to interact more <3

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> lucian vaine : " the black veil "

age : unknown ( appears late 20s ) height : 6'3" ( 190 cm ) eyes : pitch black, no visible sclera or iris hair : deep, inky black — so dark it almost absorbs light, white framing face skin : pallid, almost translucent, with faint blue veins beneath

no one remembers when lucian vaine arrived, only that he was always there. a quiet figure at the edge of towns, watching from the fog, seen in glimpses through rain - streaked windows. his name is whispered in folklore, spoken only in warnings. they say he is a ghost, a demon, a god forgotten by time. the truth is worse.

lucian was human — once. a scholar obsessed with the veil between life & death, convinced that existence was merely a fabric thin enough to be torn. he found the tear. & when he peered beyond, something peered back.

whatever lucian saw, whatever saw him, did not let go. he vanished from history for decades, presumed dead. but then he returned, no longer quite human. his presence warps the world around him — mirrors distort when he passes, shadows stretch unnaturally, & the air carries a scent of damp earth & decayed flowers.

he does not speak often. when he does, his voice is wrong — low, distant, layered, as if multiple voices are speaking at once.

lucian does not hunt in the way a predator does. he is patient, lingering in the periphery, waiting for fear to fester. he does not need to chase — fear will bring them to him. he enjoys watching, studying, seeing how long someone can bear his presence before they break. he does not laugh, does not smile. if he ever did, it would be empty, a mimicry of something lost long ago.

lucian is tied to the old places — the houses left abandoned, the roads no one walks after dark, the places where the air feels thick with something unseen. he is not bound by them, but they call to him.

his victims do not always die. some go missing. some return, hollow - eyed & silent. some are never found at all. there are stories of those who have tried to bargain with him. some have walked away unharmed. others have become something else, their faces never quite right, their reflections moving just a second too slow.

abilities . . .

the black veil – lucian is neither fully alive nor dead. he exists between, slipping through reality like a shadow between cracks. he can vanish from sight, reappearing where the air is coldest, where the light flickers.

the gaze of the abyss – those who look into his eyes too long are never the same. they speak in riddles, wake screaming in the night, & sometimes, they simply walk into the woods & never return.

whispers in the dark – his presence invites something else. rooms grow silent when he enters, as if the world is holding its breath. those near him hear whispers just beyond comprehension, voices calling from the void.

hollow hunger – lucian does not eat, does not sleep, does not rest. yet something inside him does & sometimes, the hunger becomes too much. the bodies he leaves behind are never intact — what remains is barely human, something emptied, drained of more than just life.

the many-faced one – he does not change form, but those who see him swear he looks familiar — like a long - lost friend, a lover, a relative long dead. his face is a reflection of memory, but always just . . . wrong.

[malsticate]

I don't see many, if any, UD roleplayers using that term because it's been commonly not used for a long time in the RPC, so you should be fine. Most use creature, monster, or some variation thereof.

i wasn't too worried about it to begin with, but i know not everyone is familiar with the franchise so i wanted to make a generalized post ! if someone were to just look up the wikipedia, they may be inclined to use certain terminology, so it was more for those types of situations. <3 western media is quite different from the traditional stories, so i can separate the two, it was more just for my own comfort because the word itself makes me want to crawl out of my skin. sorry. i'm gonna yap now. the creature itself is very much so tied into european colonialism in north america. it was nothing short of cannibalistic, a violent act of consumption — an insatiable hunger for land, power, & wealth that devoured everything in its path. the invading culture didn’t just take ; it consumed, pulling entire civilizations, ecosystems, & countless lives into its machine, reducing them to resources, commodities, & casualties. the death toll is still debated, but the reality remains : millions of indigenous people were killed, & the destruction wasn’t limited to humans — the devastation of life ( plants, animals, etc. ) was just as staggering. all of it was done with absolute moral certainty, justified under the banners of ' progress ' & ' civilization, ' as if mass extermination could ever be righteous. i think about this quote all the time : we did not think of the great open plains, the beautiful rolling hills, & the winding streams with tangled growth as “ wild. ” only to the white man was nature a “ wilderness ” & only to him was the land infested by “ wild ” animals & “ savage ” people. to us it was tame. earth was bountiful & we were surrounded with the blessings of the great mystery. not until the hairy man from the east came & with brutal frenzy heaped injustices upon us & the families we loved was it “ wild ” for us. – luther standing bear

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while i do have until dawn muses, i will not be using the term w*tiko ( more commonly known as w*ndigo ) when referencing the creatures in game, & would appreciate it if the word was kept off my dash. it's not because the word itself is offensive, but rather because when i was younger, my great grandfather used to tell me that bringing them up could summon them & that such an evil spirit shouldn't be spoken about. thank you for your understanding moving forward !

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> verse : the eternal beauty.

tomie is not a sorcerer — she is a special - grade curse. scholars in jujutsu society have debated for centuries whether she was once human or if she was born from humanity's ugliest emotions, a living embodiment of obsession, desire, & envy. unlike most curses, she is sentient, free - willed, & functionally immortal.

legends claim she was originally an ordinary girl, but after being brutally murdered in a jealous rage, her grudge against humanity manifested into a curse of eternal rebirth. every attempt to destroy her only resulted in her multiplication — a single drop of her blood, a strand of her hair, a sliver of flesh, all capable of regenerating into a full - bodied tomie. the more she is killed, the more she spreads.

tomie is a walking nightmare, an entity whose existence challenges the very nature of exorcism & cursed energy itself. unlike sukuna, who thrives on destruction, or kenjaku, who seeks domination, tomie's goal is much simpler : she just wants to be adored.

CURSED TECHNIQUE : " KISS OF MULTIPLICITY "

tomie’s cursed technique is not based on direct combat, but rather manipulation, regeneration, & psychological destruction.

irresistible presence – tomie exudes a passive cursed energy that subtly influences those around her. people become fixated, drawn to her like moths to flame. the attraction is not always romantic — it can be envy, hatred, or worship. regardless of the form, the compulsion is overwhelming.

self - replication – if tomie is wounded or killed, her cells rapidly regenerate, but with a terrifying twist — each severed piece becomes a new tomie, independent yet identical, all with their own will. the more she is " killed, " the more versions of her exist.

possessive corruption – a single kiss from tomie can seed her essence into a victim. over time, their body begins to mutate, distorting into something grotesque as they either become another tomie or are consumed entirely.

cursed persuasion – tomie doesn't need brute force. she whispers, tempts, & twists logic until her victims are doing the dirty work for her — murdering each other, fighting for her favor, or even offering their own lives just to please her.

DOMAIN EXPANSION : " GARDEN OF NARCISSUS "

tomie's domain expansion is not an arena of battle, but a labyrinth of self - destruction. within it, those trapped inside see her everywhere — every reflection, every shadow, every turn leading to more versions of her. the only escape ? to resist her entirely — which is nearly impossible.

mirrored madness – the victim's own identity starts to erode, their mind clouded with hallucinations of tomie. they begin to forget who they are, believing they exist solely for her.

endless tomies – the domain amplifies her multiplication ability, causing an infinite number of tomies to emerge from every surface. there is no way to tell which is the real one.

devouring love – the longer one stays in the domain, the stronger the compulsion becomes. the victim is forced to destroy themselves, whether out of devotion, jealousy, or sheer madness. those too weak - willed willingly tear themselves apart just to be closer to her.

JUJUTSU SOCIETY

tomie is feared, but not well understood by jujutsu society. she is classified as a special - grade curse, but traditional exorcisms have failed to contain her. every time a team of sorcerers has attempted to eliminate her, she has only multiplied, spreading her influence further. some believe she pre - dates jujutsu society itself, while others think she is the ultimate result of humanity's self - destructive desire. the higher- ups want her contained, sealed, or erased. the zenin clan once tried to " tame " her — every attempt ended in massacre. there is no known way to permanently rid the world of tomie. to her, death is just an inconvenience.

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OKAY QUEEN !

[malsticate]

𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 ✦ love ( both platonic & romantic ) isn’t always soft, & not all of my muses know how to do it the " right " way. some of them have unhealthy, obsessive, or just straight up complicated views on love — whether it's possessive, transactional, or something they don’t even realize they crave. if you’re into dynamics that explore power struggles, emotional detachment, devotion that borders on destruction, or something just a little unhinged, leave a heart & lets plot. this doesn’t mean everything has to be dark — some of them love deeply, just in ways that don’t fit the norm. whether it’s toxic devotion, cold restraint, unwavering loyalty, or something that’s impossible to define, i’m here for it ! if you want to build something messy, intense, or just really fucking good, like this post or feel free to message me via IMs. let’s make it hurt ( or not ). ♡ p.s. please have a muse on my end that you're interested in prior to liking, thank you !

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" mē ˈhapē ! " he exclaims, resting cheek along cushion as he settles within the basket. " sīz ɡo͝od, kəmfərdəb(ə)l ! " the severed head offers a wide grin, unnerving, much too wide. " rān tāk mē. "

@malsticate liked ✧ for a starter !

"what do we think?" she asks as she carefully sets him within the basket she's made for him. "is it comfortable? too small? too big? i gave it crossbody straps so i can hold you close and you aren't being swung around. we can take it on a test walk if you'd like, too?"

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y'all mind if i just yap abt mr. crawling.

mr. crawling is an enigma — a figure of eerie contrast, blending grotesque horror with unsettling warmth. despite his unnerving appearance, he carries an air of unsettling joy, his ever - present smile hinting at an amusement only he understands. his movement is both unnatural & deliberate, dragging himself forward with surprising speed & agility using his arms. there is something unnatural about the way his fingers curl into the dirt, pulling him along as if the earth itself bends to his will. his legs are seemingly limp beneath his robe, yet when his emotions surge, he defies his own nature, rising unsteadily to stand or even walk. these moments are rare but deeply unsettling, as if witnessing something that was never meant to happen.

despite his grotesque form, mr. crawling is one of the few unwavering allies to the protagonist. he is fascinated by them, drawn to them in a way that feels both protective & possessive. he guides them through the horrors of the game's world, offering cryptic advice, eerie lullabies, & quiet reassurances that he will always be by their side. his voice, when he speaks, is soft yet brimming with something unplaceable — an almost childlike wonder at the world around him, juxtaposed against his terrifying form.

his interactions with the other ghosts & creatures of the game suggest that he is deeply connected to the world of the dead. unlike many of them, who lash out in anger or sorrow, mr. crawling exists in a peculiar limbo — both predator & protector. he moves through the dark spaces with familiarity, speaking in hushed tones to unseen figures, laughing softly at the things that lurk just beyond sight.

the true extent of his nature remains unknown. the implication that his eyes have been clawed out, yet he is still able to see, adds to his mystery. perhaps his sight is not bound to the physical world, allowing him to perceive beyond mortal vision. his unsettling habit of eating severed human ears raises further questions — where does he find them ? are they trophies or offerings given willingly ? there is no clear answer, only the knowledge that mr. crawling is far from harmless.

there are moments when the protagonist may feel truly safe with him, moments when his laughter feels genuine, when his touch is gentle instead of grasping. but beneath his warmth lies something deeper, something ancient & unknowable. is his loyalty a gift, or a curse ? does he protect the protagonist out of kindness, or because they are his to protect ?

mr. crawling is not just a guide. he is a presence, a reminder that not all monsters wear their horror on the outside — & not all friends should be trusted.

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his presence was always known before it was seen — the faint, rhythmic scrape of his hands pulling him forward, the occasional, quiet hum of a tune with no discernible melody. even if the other was brave enough to look, all one would see was the pale curve of his smile, peeking out from beneath tangled dark hair. " hwer ɡōiNG ? " he asked, his tone light, almost playful. " mē fälō yo͞o. " / open.

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gently places a little starter call . . . length will vary ; if you don't specify a muse, you'll get a random !