#mummified... just think about that

[caterpillarinacave]

the most accidentally hilarious moment in NATM 3 is as the tablet is dying and Larry is cradling Dexter while the audience has this clear view of Ahkmenrah, a teenager who was murdered thousands of years ago, is very, very, slowly collapsing to the floor as his body reverts to a decayed mummified corpse. And nobody acknowledges it.

[bi-panic-at-the-disco]

hrghhhh how would you even go about mending an felt and fabricked and metal based animatronic

[honeywithrose]

put me in the permafrost please

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

everytime i have a intense hyperfix i go “oh man. but if this gets in the way of my oc spinterest it’s joever. i can’t let them take that away from me” and then i realize im tweeting about how i want jackal to consume every bit of me so he knows how much i love him

[inbabylontheywept]

so for bizarre life experiences, today, in a tour for a rental house, the landlord failed to mention that the previous tenant was being evicted. the landlord also failed to show up for the tour, then called the guy he was currently evicting to ask him if he would be willing to give us a tour.

and then that guy did.

whole house was full of cat shit. minimum 5-10 loose turds per room. uncountable layers of piss. whole house was carpeted, of course. the smell was so bad we fled within 5 minutes.

then landlord called us afterwards to give us the whole high-pressure sales routine, yeah it'll be cleaned before you move in, don't worry about it, but you gotta sign fast because this thing is gonna get leased within the day once the smell is gone and i was just. i'm not just not-sold im genuinely wondering if i should call the city about this. i don't know if that house can be fixed. i think that house could be condemned, and he didn't just show it to me, he set it up. he could've refused to let me tour. he could've cancelled. instead be begged and pleaded and weedled with a man that he hated, who hated him, for us to pretty please be allowed to look at the mummified cat turds all over that mans living room. and then that man obliged obliged, and i have no idea who the winner of that whole arrangement was supposed to be.

i know i wrote a diatribe this morning about how people are irrational chaos beasts, but like. damn. even i forget that sometimes. i need a bath.

[spotforme]

actually the plot is secondary actually, expantion on that "futuristic" comedic dystopian milieu is all i'm thinking about

[bogleech]

Scanning electron microscopy is awesome and I personally think the images it produces are gorgeous but objectively speaking I feel like it doesn't do any favors at all for the "scary" cultural image of insects, because I mean, here's a closeup of a carpet beetle in its true colors:

And here's an SEM image that comes up for carpet beetles on google:

And the thing about SEM images is that they aren't "photographs;" they are computer scans. They're 3-d digital models generated by scanning an object at the molecular level. Color is not preserved by this process, and if it were all the specimens would look like metal anyway (I'll explain this is in a moment), so images like this had to be colored artificially. This isn't done to recreate the true colors, but to make different body parts more visible as study material, resulting in scientific images of wacky blueberry fleas:

The subtly varying transparency levels of living tissues are completely lost as well, which is why the fine hairs of insects stand out more like cactus thorns in SEM imagery, and tardigrades look like opaque leathery things with no eyes:

...Even though a tardigrade actually has eyes, they're just under the surface of a crystal clear exoskeleton:

Another thing that probably contributes to the uncanniness of SEM images is also the fact that they can only show us embalmed corpses encased in liquid metal.

It's not possible to do this fine level of scanning "instantaneously" enough for it to work on anything that's still moving, so even when you see scanning electron images of animals in various lifelike poses, it's because they're preserved specimens that were carefully positioned, or they were live specimens basically "flash frozen" by a sudden dehydration process, mummified so fast they never knew it. Many specimens are then "sputter coated," meaning they're sprayed with a thin (like microns thin) layer of liquid gold, platinum or other fine metal in order for the electrons to perfectly bounce off of every subatomic detail and produce that perfect scan. So this is a live fruit fly:

And this is a fruit fly mummy with probably some sort of chrome plating:

[with-my-calamitous-love]

drawing hearts in the byline

osamu d. x reader

in a rare moment of “weakness” for him, dazai shows you whats underneath his bandages. angst/comfort, slight nsfw (implied)

this is one of those ones i needed to write, and i’m so glad i did. heres to all the comfort i’ve found on this app 🤍

song: tolerate it

broad shoulders and lean arms hold you in place on his mattress, touch firm but not mean. he’s seeing you for you, all of you, long, slender fingers unbuttoning and unlacing whatever they can find. his brown eyes stare, chocolate swirled admiration, as he finds more and more of you to expose.

its not his first time, nor is it yours, but dazai has that sort of magic about him. the kind of enchanting bliss that makes nightly, mundane rituals between couples far past their honeymoon’s feel like its their first time meeting. the kind of magic you find once in a lifetime, the kind of love that should be celebrated.

lips ghost over your face, nose nuzzling in with yours, a tender, almost child-like sweetness only dazai manages. you both know that even if you don’t have sex, you still want to feel skin against skin while you sleep. its a need for any touch-starved light sleeper.

the way your eyes ghost over the white fabric, mummifying him and what lies underneath, isn’t lost on him. he’s far too observant to miss a gaze like that, let alone your gaze.

but instead, he smiles, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. “looking at something, gorgeous?”

you wonder if that signature suave, that flintiness is a mask so fit, he either can’t go anywhere without it, or doesn’t realize he’s wearing it. either way, your hands intertwine with his, your thumb brushing over his bandaged knuckles.

“i just wonder why you always have these on, ‘samu. thats all.”

ah, the inevitable.

he hopes you don’t notice the slight fade that hits his smile, though he knows you will. years of barbed wire he threw blankets over, hoping it wouldn’t take up too much space or time. that he wasn’t taking up too much space.

he lifts his wrist, tracing over the lines of gauze. for a moment, he thinks, gears turning in his head, analyzing. he’s so used to holding his cards so close to his chest, most don’t realize he’s even hiding any. there are dangers with revealing himself, with making any moves un-calculated.

he short circuits when he feels your body shift closer to him, realizing that he is still in bed with you, and still needs to give you an answer. but he isn’t sure what to say- theres only one reason a man like him is always wearing bandages.

so why is he struggling to tell you the obvious?

“its not a pleasant story.” he settles on, eyes growing reminiscent. “its not even just one story.”

you bite your inner lip, looking for the words to say. some people don’t want to be comforted. some have a longing to simply disappear, and disappear is simply a soft word for that harsh reality.

his tendencies are so often treated as nuisances, you wonder if he ever had anyone that truly stopped and tried to understand.

“i just wanna know why.” you say, taking his hand. “i mean, i think i know. a little. but i wanna hear it from you.”

he’s embarrassed by how quickly that stinging feeling in his eyes arises.

“let me spare you from it.” his lips ghost a smile, fingers intertwined with yours. he isn’t sure what he’s done to deserve you- someone who sits and waits for him like a kid, using your best colors for his portrait, sitting with him in bed with zero traces of judgement or disdain. its funny how different we view ourselves and how others see us.

“don’t do that.” you’re stern, making sure he sees you. “i wanna be here for you. i want you to know that.”

he’s supposed so much older, wiser. and yet, he finds himself crumbling at just a few words.

his breath is shaky as he exhales. the only other person in his life who ever understood him died in his arms. he doesn’t want to wait to lose the second. he doesn’t want to lose you. for once in his life, he has something that may be worth living for.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

the bandages unravel like skin from bones. they’re not tight by any means, but he had gotten so used to wearing them, he wonders if the heater is off or if its just the air finding bare skin.

its his skin. he knows more than anyone what mars it by now. but seeing that look of horror cross your eyes, taking in the lines and burns, makes his stomach churn.

for once, he doesn’t have a witty comeback or a smart reply. he just lets you take it in. tolerate it.

he knows you’ll cry, but it still hurts when you do. those tears shouldn’t be falling from your eyes, his pain his alone. it had been that way for many years.

he anticipates shock, and tears, and sufferance. what he doesn’t expect is to feel your lips kissing down his wrist, actively seeking out those scars.

“beautiful,” he says, his free hand moving to your waist, almost instinctively. “what are you doing?”

“i love you.” you cut him off. “you don’t have to hide this from me. i’m sorry.”

he almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of your apology. why would you apologize for something he hid? he can’t figure it out, but he doesn’t try too, either.

its all foreign to him- kisses, love, acceptance. a vessel he taught himself to hate, to seek out death, you embraced and nurtured. he doesn’t have many words for that.

you finally work your way up to his face, forehead resting against his. dazai pulls you onto his lap, kissing you deep and slow, wanting to feel it until his lungs scratch for air. even after he gives out, needing to breathe, his face stays mere centimetres away from yours.

and that need isn’t one sided, either. your arms wrap around his neck, his bare neck, arms finding their place despite the many slits and scars. your heart is beating his name in morse code, the space between yours and dazai’s lips your temple, your mural, even your sky.

he lets out a humourless laugh, coffee eyes staring into yours. “is it tolerable?”

your quick to shake your head, shutting him up with another kiss. “i’m not tolerating it. not when i still love you. i’m not some god damn martyr.”

he blinks away a single tear, lips curving into a smile- a genuine one.

“i love you.” he whispers.

“i love you too.”

“well, now that we’re both undressed.”

“REALLY, ‘samu?”

he laughs, pushing you onto the bed, keeping you up the entire night. if you can celebrate him, he’ll learn to tolerate himself. maybe a little.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I mentioned having a little pickle snack to my coworker recently who kinda paused. I was like, “Pickles are a good snack!” This was the opening salvo to what I did not realize was going to escalate into a give a mouse a muffin levels of absurdity.

He looked supremely skeptical, “I guess. I don’t really think of pickles as a snack but okay.”

Then I told him about the pickles and peach incident. He exclaimed in horror and said, “That sounds like some kind of pregnancy craving.”

I then was like, no, it was good, but then again I’m known as Pickles Georg so maybe it was just me.

He did not know this meme. So then I’m explaining Spiders Georg to this guy and finally I’m like fuck it, I’m gonna go all out and read you the pickle freak story.

By the end of it he was laughing so hard he was almost in tears and I was like, this little pickle moment isn’t even my funniest story. It hasn’t even cracked 10K.

He demanded to know what could be funnier than mummifying pickles in my mouth so then I had to find him the dildo dimension to read and he did cry. But afterward he said he still liked the pickle story better.

[acepalindrome]

I love Nevarra. They have a whole mini-city just to store their dead, where the aesthetic is to cover everything in skeleton motifs and then say ‘hm, not enough bones.’ Need to make a magic bridge? It’s bones, for absolutely no reason other than the vibes. They’ve got mummification down to an art form. Their best known king reportedly lived to be 127, sparred with his grandson on the day of his death, kicked his grandson’s ass, then went to take a nap and died. And you know they mummified him and gave him the fanciest room in the whole Necropolis, as you do.

They historically go ham about dragons, to the point they have winter balls to celebrate dragon hunts and would display dragon parts at the party (they used to use real dragon bits, but rotting dragon smells awful, so now they do replicas of dragon heads and hearts and stuff.) They have fast paced regional dances inspired by how fucking cool dragons are.

They’ve got the biggest and most important mage school that runs the whole dang Circle of Magi (suck it, Orlais.) They have a whole annual event where people just get together to argue philosophy and drink tea. They’re big on historical reenactments. They like ice skating. They’re a bunch of foodies who thinks aesthetics are as important as taste. They invented flatbread (possibly their most important historical contribution.) They love beetles and consider them good luck, and sometimes keep them as pets.

I just think it’s neat!!

[the-offside-rule]

S.G, M.S, J.L (Moonknight) - The Three of You & Me

Requested: gotta love the moonknight ppl

Warnings: not really no

Steven Grant fumbled with his keys at the door of the flat, the heavy thunk of the lock finally giving way as the door creaked open. His face showed a mixture of exhaustion and that unmistakable, endearing Steven charm; hair a bit tousled and his shirt wrinkled from a long day at the museum. He stepped inside with a weary sigh, tossing his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes, not caring where they landed. “Ridiculously tired doesn’t even cover it.” He muttered as he spotted his girlfriend, Y/n, sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs. He trudged over and collapsed next to her with a gentle thud, head immediately falling onto her lap. Y/n chuckled, her fingers tussling through his hair as his eyes shuttered shut, his body relaxing into the comfort of her presence.

“Love, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Steven groaned, his voice tired yet animated as he began to recount the day’s events. His hand traced absentminded patterns on her arm, seeking comfort as much as he was giving it. “So, yeah, Donna’s been on me all day. She goes, ‘Steven, I need you to catalog all these artifacts before lunch,’ right? And I’m thinking, that’s impossible. She’s giving me-" He paused dramatically, lifting his head slightly to make his point. "Mummified cats! Actual ancient felines, Y/n. Who just tosses that at someone before lunch?” He shook his head in disbelief before lowering it back against her shoulder. “And the tourists, don’t get me started. Asking me questions like I run the whole museum. I’ve had to tell people ‘I'm not a bloody tour guide’ at least six times today, because Donna like, freaks out when I go about 'nattering' on about Egypt.”

Y/n smiled softly, letting him rant, knowing he needed this space to unwind. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke, his voice growing softer with each complaint, the day clearly catching up with him. His eyelids drooped, his words becoming slower and less coherent. “I don’t know how you put up with me.” He mumbled sleepily, already half-asleep in her arms. She kissed the top of his head gently. “Because I love you, Steven.” He muttered something unintelligible, trailing off as sleep finally claimed him. His body relaxed completely, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

But after a minute, Y/n felt the subtle shift she had come to recognize. Steven’s body tensed slightly, his muscles twitching in a way that was different from the usual sleep movements. His breathing changed, becoming deeper, more controlled. When his eyes fluttered open again, they no longer carried the soft, dreamy expression she knew from Steven.

Marc Spector was awake now.

Y/n smiled knowingly as his gaze met hers, his expression focused and alert. Marc gave her a small, almost apologetic smile as he stretched, cracking his neck with a quiet sigh. “Hello, Marc.” She greeted him softly. Marc’s lips tugged into a brief smile. “Hey.” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Steven was exhausted.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I could tell.” Y/n said with a chuckle, watching him stand up from the couch and head to the kitchen. “You hungry?” Marc asked, already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out ingredients without much thought. “I can make something.”

“Sure, I could eat.” She replied, leaning back into the couch, content to watch him move around the kitchen with the ease of someone used to taking over when needed. In a matter of minutes, Marc had whipped up a plate of grilled cheese. He sighed as he plopped down beside her, handing her the plate and grabbing the control for the TV. "I expected some alfredo or something." Y/n joked. "You said you were starved, pasta takes too long to make." Marc replied, the quiet hum of the television filling the space. "How righteous. You sure it's not because you can't cook?" He scoffed. "Steven can't cook, I made our food before you came along." He said, putting the control down and grabbing a half.

After dinner, Marc flipped through the channels yet again, landing on something mindless, and sat back down, pulling Y/n close as they watched TV. But even Marc couldn’t stave off sleep forever. He yawned, stretching as he set the remote down and leaned back into the couch. “Guess it’s my turn to knock out.” He murmured, his voice rough with fatigue. Y/n smiled, brushing her hand through his hair. “Goodnight, Marc.” He mumbled something in response, already slipping into sleep. But it didn’t last long before that familiar shift happened again—his body changing, his posture becoming more relaxed yet somehow more confident. When his eyes opened this time, they held a sharp, mischievous gleam.

Jake Lockley was awake.

Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at the sudden change in his demeanor. “Buenos días, Jake.” she said with a teasing smile, despite the fact that it was still very much night-time. “Buenos días.” Jake replied with a chuckle, heading straight for the coffee machine. He moved with a smooth, confident ease that was completely distinct from either Steven or Marc. “Coffee? At this hour?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup, the rich aroma filling the room. “I’ve got a job to do.” Jake said, taking a sip and leaning casually against the counter, his dark eyes focused on her. "Cab driving or cab driving." He chuckled. “Don't worry about it, cariño. Won’t be long.” He said finishing the cup of coffee and placing it in the sink. "Marc will clean this later, right?" She chuckled. "He won't like it but probably." He nodded along, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "Vale, hasta luego, cariño." He was about to reach for the door handle when he felt a delicate hand on his arm. “Be careful, okay?” Jake’s grin softened just a bit, his rough exterior giving way as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Siempre tengo cuidado. No te preocupes por esa carita bonita.” He murmured, his voice low and full of quiet reassurance. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded, watching as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He gave her one last glance, his expression full of unspoken promises, before slipping out into the night. The flat felt a little quieter with him gone, but Y/n knew better than to worry. Jake always came back, and she’d be waiting for him.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That's a Wrap!

Kinktober 2024 Day 2: Bondage

Mummified Lich Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: noncon, bondage, undead yandere, necromancy, graverobbing, mild blood drinking, biting, magic, soul binding, cock warming, overstimulation, controlling yandere, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 1k

(Honestly not my best work. A bit rushed. Smut isn't super detailed. But I hope you guys like it anyway.)

You didn't really think of yourself as a grave robber. Of course not! You were an explorer, a treasure hunter, a daring person who went on adventures into dangerous dungeons! Now, did that sometimes involve liberating certain valuables from the entombed? Sure.

In fact, that's just what you were doing. You had found a map in your travels that had led you to an ancient dungeon in which a long dead king was rumored to be entombed… along with all of his many treasures…

The entrance was concealed deep within a hidden cave. The opening had collapsed, but you had the right equipment for the job.

Though you lacked any ability to naturally cast spells, you did have several one-time use earth scrolls that would allow you to use their stored magic to clear the cave and make sure it was fully stable. Of course, you also had a scroll of teleportation so you could easily leave with the loot and a scroll of healing in case of injury.

You continued until you found a magically sealed door, though it seemed age had weakened it just enough for it to be broken by your enchanted pickaxe. You proceeded through the antechamber and into the main room. 

Strange. Absolutely no treasures filled the room, no artifacts mounted on the walls, no jars, urns, statues, or gold. It was just a plain, pristine room with some glyphs and runes.

But in the center, there were stairs leading to a stone sarcophagus. This was it, the resting place of King Relik. For something containing royalty, it was disappointingly plain. Maybe he was buried during a time of extreme poverty. You knew you were the first "liberator of treasures" though; you had been the one to break the sealed door. 

Well… a bit macabre, but you could still sell the mummy itself if nothing else. It alone would be a mighty fine pay day. Though you held out hope that some valuables remained in the sarcophagus.

You carefully shipped away at it with your pick. At about the halfway mark, it burst open on its own. 

King Relik rose from his 2300 year old prison with a yawn. He was mostly covered in strips of cloth. Upon spotting you, he willed his wrappings to extend and curl around you. 

The wrappings fell from his body, revealing him to have pale grey-white skin, ling black hair, dark rings around his eyes, and a muscular body.

The gauze evidently held spells to incapacitate whoever they bound but were no longer strong enough to hold such a powerful mage-king like Relik. 

You were only left uncovered from the neck up. The now naked former monarch bit your neck and drew blood, sucking only a few drinks from you. 

As he drank from you, he learned your language and your most recent actions and motives.

"Ha! A grave robber. I like you!"

You had no idea that he had been sealed there for trying to conquer the world as an undead lich. They couldn't kill him no matter how hard they tried, so they used the strongest magic possible to seal him away.

And you had broken the last bits of that waning magic. 

He kissed your neck where he had bitten you and cradled you carefully. He summoned up some clothes for himself. It was all he could do with his powers as weakened as they were.

Relik rummaged through your pack and found what he was looking for. The teleportation scroll linked to your nice private home.

How quaint. He never had to resort to a spell scroll before. 

Once at your place, he took the bindings off, laughed as you struggled, removed your clothing, and then re-wrapped your arms and legs.

"I don't really need these enchanted bindings to restrain you, but you look rather cute all tied up like this."

All you could do was make a distressed expression. He ruffled your hair to comfort you.

"Don't worry. It wouldn't be very kingly of me to just dispose of someone who freed me… especially when they have such a delicious expression of fear."

The lich bit his finger so that a drop of blood flowed from it, he put it in your mouth so that you would know who he was and what he intended. His blood power would work both ways, should he will it. 

Suddenly, his intent flooded into your mind. You now knew that from the moment he had tasted your blood, he intended to reward you for freeing him. He liked your personality and slightly questionable morals for wealth.

Your reward would be an immortal lifetime of getting dicked down by him. 

That night alone, he used a spell to make sure you were lubed and ready, then tied you up, and had you in nearly every possible position. His favorite was simply bouncing you on his dick with your hands, bound behind your back. 

Though the magic fabric wasn't on your mouth, its enchantment kept from making all but the softest moans and gasps. Good thing too, thought Relik. Otherwise, you may have damaged your voice.

Only when you literally passed out against his chest from the exhaustion and overstimulation from hours of sex did he finally remove the bandages. Instead, he held you close in his arms and used you to warm his cock as he fell asleep too.

Over the next few days, he would get enough of his strength back to make you magically addicted and dependent on him. This was to ensure you could never leave him.

He also used a spell to make it so you couldn't speak of him or otherwise communicate his existence to other people.

After a few months, he had enough power to tie your very soul to his for all eternity, causing you to become a lich as well. He sealed this soul pact with a magical collar he had you wear.

In every possible way, sexually, spiritually, and physically, Relik owned you. He may have been a mummy when you met him, but you were the one who was all wrapped up and bound. 

[humanradiojmp]

First impressions with The Gaslight District trailer

Really enjoy how the animation is done. Almost seems like some of it was done maybe on twos instead of ones (24 fps is average and considered animating on ones, so twos would be half at 12 fps) giving it a slightly choppier feel in some instances. Could be wrong on that part, but do know going back that there’s moments where the point of impact is delayed to give an extra punch to whatever is happening. With the editing, gives an impression those are some serious moments.

Stylization very unique and different than the previous two shows. I remember in GlitchX 2023 it was mentioned they were pushing themselves with the stylization and their attempts at getting it right, and it shows. It almost makes me think of a video game with how the graphics are, and I mean that in a good way. Lots of clean but dramatic lighting and solid models for the characters. some of the camera angles also gives this idea, like when it pans from the side to the front of the house (shop?) makes me think the beginning of a cut scene. Plus, some of the details on skin and hair make me think of almost cell shading for comics where there’s a slight line to indicate muscle or hair strands.

Speaking of that particular moment, I’m almost getting earlier 3D animation, like from the 90s-2000s, specifically Monster House. Something about it gives me that same vibe. Also kind of resembles Claymation with the texturing and such, but clearly computer animated.

Honestly just going over the trailer a few times the animation is soooo good. the studio really is getting better and better every episode of their series. Like thinking how Murder Drones started verses how it ended in graphics alone shows how they improved. There’s even signs of better quality between episode one and four of Digital Circus. and it just looks so professional. Big round of applause for everyone who works there/for them for their efforts.

Both from the synopsis of the video and a few things in the video itself indicates the series is going to be quite a doozy. Undead gangsters in a (potentially) gothic punk environment. Whole bunch of conflict from that alone I’m sure, plus what’s going on with our main lead (trying making out her name but just can’t quite get it; if someone could tell me what it is, that’d be great). The main character seems to be loyal to the family she’s part of, but also curious as to where she came from. One scene shows a part of a conspiracy string board with a photo of her and what I’m assuming is her father figure, a torn paper reading “where do I come from?” and a newspaper clipping about humans and how they’re tied to a prophecy involving the destruction of the Gaslight District. Probably suspects she’s not actually undead, or was a human that was killed and revived but with her memories fuzzy at best (We got quite a few characters with memory problems in the Glitch verse. First Tari in Meta Runners, then N in Murder Drones, Pomni and the rest of the humans in Digital Circus and now our main girl here. Is having some form of amnesia a required trope for Glitch? /j)

I swear I know the voice of the main girl, but I can’t put my finger on it. Big butcher bug looking guy kind of sounds like Pete from all the Mickey Mouse stuff (grew up watching a lot of Disney stuff don’t come at me for the first idea I got) but a lot more gravely.

I feel like I’m going to say this a lot, but very unique designs for the cast. With things like animation what makes them stand out from one another is the designs of the cast and world as a whole. There’s some gangly boney like characters in the background and then the main cast. There’s the bug butcher that also almost makes me think of the Kraang from TMNT 2K12, a guy with a loaf of bread for a head, skin degrading skeleton guy, and our main girl that looks mostly mummified if the wrappings around her body are any indication. Not to mention that giant thing with the eye both in the thumbnail and family photo. I feel like @endomentendo is really going to get a kick out of the designs here because a lot of reminds me of their art, at least with some of their OCs. I want to push my capabilities of drawing characters that aren’t quite perfectly human so I might try my hand at drawing one of these guys for practice. (anyone else notice one guy eating cars that has a head that I think is supposed to be a luggage bag but looks a lot like Caine?)

Intrigued by the soundtrack. Like the hollow-ish bell sounds in the first half and then the more hopeful, light track of the second half that’s paired with the violence. Bright happy music with sad or violent things has got to be one of my favorite tropes. And sound design in general is really good. with the whispers and the different sound effects like the gun shots and punches and drowning, all well done.

Overall, a testament to the team’s work and skill, and showing another example of someone’s creativity being highlighted in a way they may not have had the chance before. I vaguely remember how Part Time Seagull (the creator of The Gaslight District) was working/planning to make this a series, but 2D and had some concept art, which is how he was found by Glitch. It really is great that the studio is trying to help people have their dreams realized and helping others showcase their works and ideas (thinking how GlitchX 2024 was more of a showcase of others’ works then their own). Truly a powerhouse of indie animation.

Watch the trailer here:

[meganwhalenturner]

So, last November I got to try my hand at Alchemy

Maddalena Rumor, in the Classics Department of Case Western Reserve University came to have dinner with us and mentioned she'd just successfully turned silver gold.

She had an alchemical recipe from a 7th century BCE cuneiform tablet from the library of Ashurbanipal. She'd been working with Rekha Srinivasan, from the Chemistry Department to see if they could translate the cuneiform, identify the substances mentioned, and then try the recipe to see if it worked.

They traveled to the British Museum to examine the tablet up close. By studying the partial strokes along the edges, Maddalena could make some educated guesses about missing words. Rekha, in turn, could use the descriptions of the substances to make some guesses about what they might be. Then they could start testing their best guesses with experiments.

This is complicated by the tendency of alchemical texts to use code words or inside jokes to describe materials or techniques. Something like me making a recipe that calls for 2 Legs and 1 Arm of Policeman and my friends all knowing it means 2.5 ingots of Copper.

I know the word alchemy comes from the Arabic al-kimia and that it eventually developed into chemistry, but I've always associated it with the worst of the Dark Ages in Europe--charlatans or wannabe magicians in smoke-filled, poorly lit cellars full of of mummified animals and just generally gross stuff that is not my jam.

I'm wondering now if that's because medieval alchemists were reading a lot of things literally that weren't meant to be taken that way. There's a reference in one of Maddalena's article's to a rare case where "human excrement" called for in a recipe is revealed to actually mean "garlic." I can see a lot of ancient alchemists laughing up their sleeves.

I had just learned during a trip to Naples the previous summer that the alchemy of Renaissance philosophers like Pico Della Mirandola was very different from the stuff in the basements of Prague. Instead of dreckapotheke, they were translating texts from the Ancients Greeks, texts that were perhaps based on the very tablets from the 7th Century BCE that Maddalena was studying. I promptly begged to observe her next experiment.

She very graciously said yes, so I went down to a lab at Case and I wish I had taken better notes, but I did not, so what I've got is a bunch of pictures, and I'll have to go back and badger Maddalena for details.

These are the ingredients for the next round of testing.

They will be mixed into a solution in the flask on the right and then heated on a burner.

Then silver tablets will be dipped into the solution:

And turn gold!

Not *into* gold. That was not the plan. Hope you aren't disappointed.

If you thought the object of alchemy in those dark basements in Prague was turn to lead into gold, yeah me, too. And maybe it was, but the alchemy of the ancient Near East seems to have been more clear that transmutation wasn't on offer. After reading some of Maddalena's articles, I now know there were four main practices of alchemy back in the day: coloring silver gold, making a silver alloy that still looked like silver, coloring glass to look like precious stones, and dying wool purple without using those expensive snail shells from Tyre.

I talked about alchemy a lot (really, a lot, everyone was very patient) at a recent writing retreat. Erin Bow called it the Science of Knock Offs.

There are multiple ancient sources that say that this "holy and divine art" (hē hiera kai theia technē) was taught to mankind by fallen angels who were sharing the secrets of heaven. I know it seems ridiculous that an all knowing divine being is going to focus on the Secret Science of Knock Offs, but the more I I think about it, the more I can see it.

ARMUMAHEL: We will share with you the great mysteries of heaven!

MANKIND: . . .

ARMUMAHEL: I can save you some money on purple dye.

MANKIND: YAY!

SAMYAZA: So how did the secret sharing go today, Armumahel? Did they ask about the language of birds? The control over monsters of the deep?

ARMUMAHEL: I told'em how to make glass marbles look like sapphires.

SAMYAZA: You do know Enoch is writing all this down. His book is going to be stuck in the apocrypha and we're going to be laughing stocks.

ARMUMAHEL: I promised to tell them tomorrow how to turn silver gold.

SAMYAZA: Ah! Transmutation of matter! That's a good one!

ARMUMAHEL: No, not transmutation. They just want the silver bowls on the alter to be yellow and shiny.

SAMYAZA: . . .

My shiny yellow tablet. : )

[skullwaffles]

Old freshly ejected scooped micheal doodle to feed the hungry while i have art block.

This is in his cheap wig era

My AU Info below cut :3

after my micheal spent two years as ennard, in 1996, he goes off and searches for Henry.. whom had not been missing(like in canon.. i think?), he just became an extreme recluse and secret hoarder,(his basement is huge and yiu cant even walk through it atp..)

Henry is horrified, but also pissed. But mostly feels bad for Mike.. And Henry has a horrible, ‘I can fix him’ mentality with every one he connects too, (not in romantic way). So its no surprise why he is so stuck to the Afton’s… And avoids his own family. Sorry Sammy.

He helps mummifies him and Micheal is so sad by his hair being gone, he goes and buys a horrible wig at a costume shop. This wig lasts from 1996-1997, before Henry finally gets him one that looked more like his original hair and IS real hair.

I have waayyyy more details about how Henry helped Micheal with his scoopin’ recovery, but its kinda gross lol.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere! Child x Monster!Reader)

Chapter 0: The Body I Stole

[part 1,2]

(CW: death, femme bodied gender neutral reader, child abuse) very short prologue for a story idea I had

There was a muffled sound of a woman struggling quietly as she chased the terrified gasps of a child running for his life. A small boy, maybe five years old, covered in scrapes and bruises new and old, was fleeing his mother as she limped after him.

Avery had caused the accident.

Her eyes were cold and sharp, glaring at the road ahead of her as they drove down the curvey mountain. It wasn't his fault, the scene at the birthday party, but his mother didn't believe it. She never did. The fear of being "disciplined" was something Avery never really shook, in fact, it was something he learned to expect..

He didn't know why he did it. But a surge of adrenaline electrocuted his fingertips, and launched his little arms towards her and the steering wheel. The family car swerved towards the trees, rolling twice before smashing into a tree.

The mother was practically dragging her shattered ankle through the weeds as she tried to catch her kid.

"AVERY! COME BACK HERE RIGHT! NOW!" Her voice tore through the woods. The venomous words that promised pain was heard by more than just Avery, however.

They didn't know what the situation was, nor did they care.. All (Reader) could think about was their hunger.

A twig snapping made the woman stop, believing she had found her child. The scowl on her beautiful features deepened, making the woman look more like a monster than the creature who had just woken up.

"Avery. If you come out right now I won't be mad. I promise."

Even to a monster that had been sleeping for the past hundred or so years, her lies were obvious. (Reader) listened to the little one covering his mouth a few feet away, and guessed that he was the Avery this woman was speaking to. But unfortunately for her, Avery was hiding in the opposite direction.

She couldn't even fake a smile as she hobbled over towards where the monster hid, stretching out their creaky joints.

As she passed the thick trees to where she heard the snapping branches, a small look of hateful triumph was shattered as she found something else standing where she assumed her son would be. The eight foot tall creature with grey skin smiled down at the human. Their body smelled of dirt and moss, but looked like a mummified corpse stretched out. Black hair fell around their shoulders, almost covering their six, blood red eyes, focusing on the trembling prey before them.

Her beautifully painted lips weren't given a chance to scream before the creature opened it's jagged toothed maw, and bit her pretty little head in half.

(Reader's) strong jaw crushed the woman's skull easily, splashing her soft innards down their throat and across their naked chest. It had been so long since they ate that they forgot to take the basic feeding steps.

What was her height? Her hair color? Her chest size? They forgot to care. It wasn't until the only thing left of her body was her left leg.

"Ah.. I made a mistake." (Reader) mumbled to themselves as they tried to recall what their meal's appearance was. If they hadn't been starving, they would have morphed into their new persona before eating them.

They did their best in replicating the woman.

Their spine snapped loudly as they shrunk, hair and skin rapidly changing in color and texture, until they were the woman as they somewhat recalled her to be. 'I'll just find a better suit later..'

Not even the woman's clothes remained in the bloody aftermath. (Reader) sighed as they shook her leg. 'My starvation made me sloppy.' They finished off the last leg of their meal, before turning and surprising themselves with the appearance of a small boy with black hair watching them. (Reader's) new eyes widened, having been so focused on their food that they hadn't noticed him sneaking up on them.

As they contemplated killing and taking the young boy's form, he surprised them again, rushing forward suddenly and wrapping his thin arms around (Reader's) naked flesh.

A/N: I know it's short, but I had an idea for a multiple chapter story, with a clingy adoptive son ❤️ needed to get the OG mother out of the way before the story, because even though this is what I want to happen in the story, it doesn't fit the way I want the first chapter to start haha