#so ambiguous enough

[sunnwalker]

Little warmup sketch from today done before i redid the same sketch multiple times before giving up (not a good art day)

[mewvore]

If anyone knows where all the fat is let me know

[stars-obsession-pit]

A cult has been causing trouble for the Infinite Realms in their search for power and eternal life. And to make things worse, the Observants suspect that they have at least one actual ghost—or possibly even a traitorous Observant—working with them and interfering with their view. This could become a major problem…

However, as Observants, they’ve sworn not to intervene directly, so they have to pick someone else to look deeper into the situation for them. And, if necessary, to deal with it.

They choose Phantom for this role, since his half-human nature means he’ll have an easier time operating in the living world. Danny’s not entirely happy with the assignment, but the situation does seem like a genuine issue so he’s willing to look into it (if in his own way).

Since he doesn’t know how prepared the cult is for ghosts, he decides that infiltration would be the best way to gather info. Thus, he takes on a new identity in his human form and approaches the cult, expressing interest in the publicly known part of their group. Then, a bit later, he manages to successfully gain admittance into some of the more private meetings. Everything is progressing as planned!

…Though he didn’t expect to like one of his fellow initiates so much. He hopes he can change their mind on things and bring them out of the cult with him when he’s done.

Meanwhile, a hero from the Justice League has also been sent to infiltrate the cult and investigate the rumors about it. It’s gone off without a hitch so far, but they’ve gained a potential entanglement in the form of one of the other new members whom they’re developing a crush on…

[alltimefail]

Time we bring traditional values back, imo. Teach RESPECT and HONOR to this young generation smh...

1 like = 1 amen 🙏🙌

[ranchclan]

[mythtakens]

[serpentface]

Here's what typical vestment for The Odomache looks like.

The pelt of the lion that was originally sacrificed and worn raw for her incarnation is retained throughout the years of service, preserved and fashioned into a headdress and cape (obscuring a helmet). This can get dreadfully hot in the summer but no one ever said that being a hollowed out pathway for God's spirit was easy.

The body is always obscured near completely, barring the hands, feet, and parts of the face (philosophically, these are the body's least vulnerable parts as its modes of Action, though this is in large part a practicality). This is partially a matter of psychological enforcement that this person is not Just a human, and partly a matter of protecting the part of God's living spirit that's in a wholly human body. Conceptually, the Odomache Enables tremendous power rather than being intrinsically powerful in of herself, so all manners of protecting the metaphysically vulnerable human body are of tantamount importance in her case.

The complete obscuring of any identifiable feminine form is also notably important to the underlying philosophies and biases involved. It is necessary that she is female, a condition ascribed a unique malleability to change and transformation (for good or harm), but the act of female/non-male sex and gender assignment also serves to uphold an underclass in a patriarchy that she By Necessity must be distanced from. This extends beyond the masculinized social and dress performance of Odonii to a masculinized social performance with dress that utterly obscures any part of the body that could be gendered, and dress that is not gendered in of itself (women do wear less revealing clothing than men and skirts of similar length, but the act of Fully covering the body in this form exists outside of the bounds of gendered dress).

[[It should be noted that on a historical level, this role is largely a descendant of a variety of 'celibate and/or masculinized female religious authority' figures in pre/proto-Wardi societies stretching back centuries, rather than an emergent property of contemporary religion and philosophy. This is an adaptation of older roles and worldviews to securely fit the contemporary zeitgeist, and that's part of why many aspects of this role Superficially clashes with said zeitgeist.]]

The relatively undecorated white cloak and robes in comparison to culturally favored displays of color and opulence further emphasizes a sense of the Odomache's separation from humanity. The Wardi image of God is not a human lord, but rather the world itself and the functions of the world distilled into the forms of animals. Human hierarchies exist Within God rather than God having a place within human hierarchies, so in this philosophy it's natural for this particular person of high authority to not closely resemble a Human Authority.

This is still ultimately a human body existing at the top end of a human hierarchy (and in the dimension of religious thought, it a human body holding aspects of God most specifically concerned with maintaining concepts of 'right' civilization and hierarchy), so public-facing garb like this will still include a few mundane trappings of lordship such as this fancy gold khattanocuy displaying an image of an enemy being trampled by the Face Odomache as the guardian lion. Purely ceremonial garb for the Odomache hides the body in its entirety beneath the white cloak and forgoes all decoration save for the obligatory weaponry.

A sword and dagger is worn at all times as a matter of being the ultimate physical bastion of her society's military might, and she is always accompanied by a retinue of 'lieutenants' (Extremely elite servants/squires) who carry whatever other elements of her perpetual armament are not currently in use. These weapons are Completely ceremonial in nature (to the point that they're made or plated with gold rather than anything like, durable) and there is absolutely zero expectation that the Odomache will ever directly engage in combat (the times this has happened historically have been when things have gone horribly wrong).

Her face is usually masked in public, though this is not a strict necessity of the role and is forgone for some ceremonial purposes. On these occasion, it's standard to paint the face red to still partly obscure human features in the same fashion of battlefield Odonii. As the color of blood, it positively evokes bodily vitality and strength, the living spirit of the world itself and the mode of connection to God (and will also be reminiscent of the rite of incarnation during which she is Actually covered in blood)

[corviiids]

ok hear me out about this vaguely Your Name inspired lawlight au told via notes they leave each other while bodyswapped

[eveningdawn222]

jayroy is so good to me for a lot of reasons, but one of the big ones is that they r both full of each other's triggers. it's insane how like. their traumas have the potential to directly impact each other. except they just. don't. for the most part they're just two really good bros. it's got so much potential and if dc ever got around to writing a jason story that wasn't dogshit, it could be a really good story. alas.

[halfbaked00q]

Im soooo weak to when Bond is like casually being used or exploited at his expense for some ostensible Greater Good except the situation doesn't HAVE to come to that, not really, and he's so inured and even numb to it that he barely pays it any mind; meanwhile, Q absolutely minds and is very indignant on his behalf and works overtime to like either try to avert or forestall the situation before it gets to the point where Bond has to dig his own claws into more of his soft underbelly to offer up on the sacrificial alter of politics of all tawdry things, or to manufacture a way in which he does the needless "needful" so as to spare Bond at least one unnecessary additional wound upon his psyche.

bonus if Bond finds out and maybe after being angry or indignant about it - I don't need you to do my job for me, Q, this is what I'm here to do - and either Q tells him/lets slip or he deduces that like, this isn't Q thinking he can't get the job done, this is Q finding him precious and worthy of protecting, and like. he's just very in awe of that and does in fact feel very safe and cherished within the cradle of his Quartermaster's regard

[scholliski]

i love making my annual post reminding people that Renee wants to fuck nasty with unhinged men, see you again in December soldiers

[tornado1992]

The world does not deserve some things.

It doesn’t deserve destruction, hate or cruelty.

Sonic has known this for quite a while, being some sort of fighter for nature or a so called “protector” of it by a lot of people, he’s not so sure about that though.

Just as the world can be beautiful it can become dreadful, the world gives origin to everything in it, and that everything is part of the world itself.

The people that live in it are the part that shows the contrast the most clearly, just as some inhabitants are kind, take care of each other and enjoy the wonders it has to offer, there was a few of them that seemed to spite everything that wasn’t like them, everything they didn’t like, and everything that wasn’t theirs. Sonic knows that, he’s been fighting that enough time to be named a protector.

All things considered, to him the world still meant kindness, endless opportunities, adventure… and it meant freedom.

Then it meant something else.

Between all his fighting and running, he met and befriended a lot of the ones that called him a hero before he could even process the title, some of them energetic, some hotheaded, and some unbothered, they reminded him that even if there was despair or tragedy, the world he knew and loved was still there.

At least it was there to him.

Getting to know all the world meant getting almost as much deception and anger as happiness, every new place meant new sceneries, new ways, and new people, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Even if it meant taking all the damage himself, getting to know everything personally was better than blindly trusting anything he was told, he knew it was worth it; he confirmed it when he went through one of the worst parts to find the absolute best one.

The place wasn’t even bad looking, the nature growing harmoniously beside the artificial work, it gave a peaceful kind of vibe, the people seemed kind and respectful, kids playing and chasing each other while adults looked out for them from afar, even welcoming him with open arms not caring if he was a stranger, “a united and caring community”, no sight of conflict or cruelty came to view, they didn’t seemed to have any hate in them. Only kind words and even warm chilli dogs greeted him. He thought this was the kind of place he would fight for.

That thought lasted less than an hour.

It really doesn’t take much longer than 10 minutes to completely change your perspective of a so called perfect community when after thirty minutes of an apparent peaceful environment you notice the sick looking child they suddenly chase down the woods so he doesn’t “steal their food and gives them bad fortune”. Sonic gives them a full minute of doubt, doubt to himself as what he’s hearing and seeing, because that can’t be right, because it must be a mistake. What reason could there be for a kid to “give bad luck”? Why would a kid need to “steal” food? And why would he be called a “curse”?

Some villager takes a long four minutes to explain the reason for all that, falling down to “that mutant was born with two tails”.

Sonic spends the next five minutes looking for the kid, and restraining himself from committing several crimes.

He had to focus, ending a full village’s whole career can wait, what cannot wait is the fox kit that just ran away from a group of kids leaving a trail of blood behind him. Even in the thick forest tundra it’s easy to see the big droplets of blood on the tree branches, the ground, and the tiny bush that kept trembling.

That’s where he found him.

A fox kit, didn’t looked any older than two, but by what he heard he could even be four. He looked way too tiny to be around four.

Big baby blue eyes greet him, a glassy sight, sorrow, confusion and sadness behind them.

The moment the fox noticed the speedster he tried to run, but the bush was too thick around him, and his back was facing a big tree log, he was trapped, the kid flinched every time he moved towards him, whined whenever Sonic rose to stand, and even started silently tearing up while curling around his tiny bruised body when he tried to reach for him. This kid thought Sonic wanted to hurt him.

How much does a kid has to suffer for his first reaction to some one approaching him being to cry, tremble and try to protect themselves?

Sonic can’t decide what enrages him more, the matted brown fur that surely must mean a long time without proper care for it, the bruised skinny body that trembled every few seconds as if it couldn’t stand by itself, the obviously recent bleeding nose that made the fox kit whimper every time he breathed, or the so clear loud sound of an empty stomach.

This was the result of long period of abuse and neglect, and by the way the kid hugged his twin tails while crying, Sonic would even call it torture.

Sonic couldn’t help him without getting close to him, but the kit wouldn’t let him near him without flinching. Putting the kid through more distress was not an option, but leaving him alone wasn’t one either, and the kid needed help, so he stayed. Sitting beside the trembling bush, taking watch in case some of those hollow hearted villagers came back while thinking of a way of helping the kid.

This is not the kind of help Sonic is used to offer, but he cannot just leave the kit alone. Even if he didn’t know anything about taking care of younger kids, even if his first aid kit was almost empty in his plane far away from him, even if the fox cried at the very sight of him, Sonic won’t leave him alone.

He doesn’t remember feeling like this before. Frustrating, he remembers some adults calling it, a feeling of helplessness, anger, and even sadness that consumes one self through the impossibility of effective action, in his case, the impossibility of helping.

And so he found himself, frustrated, sitting on the forest ground while rubbing his eyes with his hand, who knew, frustration is stressful; he kept at that for a few long minutes, until he felt a slight touch in his back. Finding those big blue eyes when he turned his head, a tiny gloveless paw patting him gently, careful with his quills but yet touching them, trying to comfort him.

This kid could barely stand, was obviously scared, at the verge of tears, and hurting from the beating the other kids gave him; and he was trying to make Sonic feel better.

It was clear now, they didn’t seemed to have any hate in them because they put all the cruelty and hatred in a kid, an innocent, tiny, and so kind hearted kid. The same village that greeted Sonic with kind words and offered him warm food was willing to let a literal toddler starve, if he wasn’t killed by the village’s youngest inhabitants first. All over something that wasn’t even bad, it wasn’t even his fault.

That won’t do.

Looking less distressed than before but still trembling wasn’t an ideal state to approach the twin tailed kit, but again, the kid needed help, the most urgent now being probably first aid, but Sonic sadly knew that the thing that would calm down the kid more would be something to eat.

Sonic offered him a smile, an attempt to soothe him, standing as slowly as he could not to scare the kid, and running as fast as his legs allowed him to return with four chili dogs was the game plan, managing to startle the kid a little bit with his rushed return, with the most difficult part of the plan being convincing the kid that the food was for him, that he could eat, that it wouldn’t hurt him, that Sonic wouldn’t hurt him.

Words might be useful to communicate that, but they just might, this kid was obviously casted away from society, who knew since when, he might not even understand him, well, if he used words that is, for now he hopes his smile would do (that and him eating a chili dog himself so the kit would know it’s safe).

It took a while, but it seemed like the fox’s empty stomach finally convinced him to eat, his hands trembling as he grabbed the supper, eyes getting a different kind of teary as he took his first bite, his twin tails wagging as he devoured his second chili dog.

Sonic wasn’t much of a baby person, sure they were cute and all he didn’t saw the big deal, all babies were the same. But seeing this little kid, a hurt toddler, starting to smile and wet his eyes over something as simple as warm food.. while a part of him was burning with rage, another part of him couldn’t help but think that he wanted to see this kid truly smile.

He wonders how could anyone see this kid with anything but love.

So he stayed around him, always with a smile, but even bandages, chili dogs, and big smiles couldn’t help much with the kids perspective of the word, much less the perception of himself.

The only world the fox knew before Sonic was a merciless one, rejection, hate and cruelty being its main traits, with bad people who would hunt him down, hit him and hurt him because he was the bad one, just for existing in the same time and place as all of them, but not being the same as them. He believed he really was the bad one for some time.

Sonic wouldn’t allow that for any longer, so he took the best part of the world with him and never planned to return it.

His life wasn’t the ideal deal for a toddler, he couldn’t give him a traditional family structure, a roof over his head, or a warm bed, but he also didn’t trusted anyone else to take care of him, he didn’t trusted the world to take care of him. So he would take the job himself, this kid wouldn’t go a day without warm food, he would never lack shelter, and as long as Sonic was around, he would always protect him.

But Sonic still was a hero.

Sonic fought and ran, ran and fought, and when the running and fighting from him alone seemed like not enough, the kit didn’t even doubted risking his own life to help him.

After a life of suffering, as little and scared as he was, at barely four years old, he still wanted to protect the world that wronged him.

The world doesn’t deserve this kid.

But it was the world itself that gave Sonic the title of protector, guardian, and hero; he knows there are things worth fighting for, far more than the things that wouldn’t deserve any kind of protection.

He won’t deny the title, ever.

Because even if some day everything around him comes down, everyone gets mad and bad, and his own hope is questioned, he’ll still have a reason to fight.

After all, this kid is his world.

[kilopascals]

PLEASE i need tokyo ghoul reanimated. i want the hype. i want the same accuracy as the fullmetal alchemist reboot. the hype for hidekane would be so unreal i just need it please

[mysticalspiders]

There's something so moving about seeing Purvan as a young man in Calamity, when he wears the simple muddy leathers of a ranger and one hundred years later, in Downfall, seeing Purvan as a world-weary old man, "deciding how to spend his death" wearing the feathers of the Deathwalker's ward. A champion who has spent years fighting for his Goddess in a bloody war who then becomes her gaurdian when she is born into a mortal body. And then remembering Vox Machina finding his tomb years later.

[bergoose]

my favorite family

a ghosthunter, a ghost, and their puppet son

[tempestmothstorm]

crazy how the sanshee plush is one of the few actual direct confirmations on what a non-act 2 Natsuki’s home life is like because of how cagey she is on literally everything. Like this isn’t anything surprising or something you wouldn’t be able to extrapolate from the games but unlike everything else we know about her the implications are right there on the tin.

They literally did the character bio trope where where all the likes are normal but the dislikes are about their very specific trauma it’s just so funny they did that on the plushie card