#so it's all subject to change

[honeymoonsimmer]

silent grove's townsfolk so far 👨‍💻

ALSO i have 28 clubs on my spreadsheet for this save and only made 3 of them so far OOF. also dont mind the bios jsdsjods i didn't know what to put in them

[crow-caller]

One of the biggest cultural shifts I've somehow never seen anyone else point out, to the degree i feel like I'm going insane, is the meaning of kinning changing

I saw a poll here where everyone agreed kinning meant really really liking and relating to a character and all the tags and comments agreed. The other option of "believing you are/identifying as the character" was met with disbelief by some as 'get help if you think that'

............when and how did this definition change so radically, because when I was a teen a decade ago, kinning only meant "i am this character". Otherkin still means "i am a wolf", right??

We used to have wars over kin drama! Insane discourse over doubles and kin ethics! The notion it meant "i really like vriska" would be alien in 2013!!! What happened!

[bixels]

As cameras becomes more normalized (Sarah Bernhardt encouraging it, grifters on the rise, young artists using it), I wanna express how I will never turn to it because it fundamentally bores me to my core. There is no reason for me to want to use cameras because I will never want to give up my autonomy in creating art. I never want to become reliant on an inhuman object for expression, least of all if that object is created and controlled by manufacturing companies. I paint not because I want a painting but because I love the process of painting. So even in a future where everyone’s accepted it, I’m never gonna sway on this.

if i have to explain to you that using a camera to take a picture is not the same as using generative ai to generate an image then you are a fucking moron.

[kelocitta]

Anthro Au Survivor drafts feat. too much worldbuilding because I cant just put pants on a slugcat like a normal person & my godawful handwriting

The Survivor (Their full, scavenger-given name includes the 'The') was separated from their family while traveling between colonies and stranded in the dangerous unpopulated wilds. Against all odds they managed to survive (and wander) far longer than they should have been able, but rather than reconnecting with their (or another) slugcat family, they instead made contact with one of the many wandering scavenger troops- But unfortunately not one that had ever met a slugcat nor had any idea what to make of a stranded one. Regardless the group gave it their best, ended up committing to the role of slugparents, and The Survivor and their troop still consider themselves close family long after Survivor finally reconnected with their sibling. (They're a bit of a mess though, understandably)

[suntails]

accolade

[dykedvonte]

I think depictions of Anya being cruel to Curly or drawing out his suffering are artful and chilling but completely miss the point of the story and her character.

I'm not saying she doesn't deserve to have that "I told you so" moment with him but not in something callous or cold. Even if that is how it happened, she'd immediately feel guilty cause at that point she's not tormenting her tormenter or even the person truly at fault. She's doing something cathartic, similar to how Jimmy likely hits Curly to release rage he can't against the rest of the crew. She'd see herself as no different when she'd come back from the moment and see Curly cowering at her. She wants someone to take responsibility but how does being cruel to the defenseless help? Why would she want the power Jimmy has over her over Curly?

The idea of her extending someone else's pain is just so against the struggles she already faces and how she can't even bring herself to cause someone pain even to help them. Her very desire is to release herself from her own suffering and I doubt she'd even fine some sort of guilty release in being cruel to another.

[kiksniko]

really obsessed with how dorian is entirely incapable of being normal around orym, even in the most subtle of ways he's a mess. someone could make a very innocent observation like "so you and this orym fellow are good ol' pals huh? you guys look pretty close :)" to dorian and he will have at minimum 5 panic attacks before going "yeahhh yap we are definitely just Friends. my best friend and nothing else. Orym. yap. Orym of the Air Ashari. my bestest of buddies ever. my Friend Orym. yap." while breaking the meanest sweat of his life

[wu-does-art]

I fcking loved the sally face au where the gang knew each other since kids, please post more of this au (also, ur art is so cool!!)

:]

ask and you shall receive!

[boarloved-art]

If you do scum villain sketch requests, perhaps some soft Qijiu? 🥺

If not, LWJ explaining his miffy-sona to LQR

absolutely yes i do, i love scum villain!! esp qijiu!! but miffy lwj so tempting to me that ur getting both!

[i-like-forcefem]

When browsing through the wares of a newly opened magic shop you passed by an item that caught your interest, a massive mirror

You peaked inside expecting to see yourself, but instead you saw, a girl? About your height, quite pretty, good taste in fashion… Maybe your mom when she was younger?

It feels weird, in a good way, to see this girl follow all your movements, you couldn’t help but smile, and her smile is radiant

You felt an odd sense of relief… until you looked down to see that, you’re you, of course you are

Why do you feel so sad?

…

“Quite the item isn’t it?”, the Witch tending the shop noticed your interest and started talking to you “a magic mirror that shows you what you’d look like if you were born the opposite sex”

You stare into it

Why do you feel this deep dread?

“But that’s not all it does!” The witch continues “want to see a magic trick?” The witch asks laying a hand on your back

You’re curious to see where this is going, so you nod your head

In one swoop the witch pushes you against the mirror and as you brace yourself to slam into it, stumbling on your feet across the floor, you find yourself slamming into the witch face first

She laughs “I probably didn’t need to push that hard”

As you lay on the ground you feel different, you look as you prepare to push yourself up from the ground you notice your hands… are they smaller?

As you get it up and oriented yourself you glance at the mirror, still the same showing girl you, but how did you get turned around did… did you get

“Sorry” the witch says as her laughter days down “that’s the first time I’ve pushed someone through a mirror, should’ve seen that coming”

You look down and see the dress you’re wearing

“Now cutie” the witch claps her hands, and jumps up! She has a grin you don’t trust “I hoped you enjoyed the trick! If you ever want to become a guy again And I hope you have some savings! Gender-bending magic is quite expensive!”

You stumble back, you can’t turn back? The mirror is showing yo- Girl You, not the real Guy You, so… that’s a no go? You’re way to poor for anything

“But don’t worry cutie, we pay quite well here and just so happen have an opening for a maid and I can assure you, you’ll look just adorable in the uniform”

[chocokeyboard]

Considering if adding Galactadad to Falce and Meta... Have my concepts

[koszmarnybudyn]

Duck team designs.

And the blank background version:

[warningsine]

♪ If sun be gone, we carry on, spirit as our guide ♪

[finelythreadedsky]

ancient greece had some weird notions of the female going on. like what do you mean the innermost nature of women is the concealment of their nature? what is pandora an imitation of? if women are by nature deceptive, do they in fact reveal the truth of what they are in using their bodies to deceive? can you cover covering itself?

[myokk]

fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘

I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.

His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?

He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.

As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.

His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)

First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.

Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.

“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”

“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.

He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.

Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.

Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.

His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.

(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)

Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.

“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?

(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)

“I was looking for you.”

Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -

“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”

“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.

[moodlemcdoodle]

After a year of doing art in secret (and forgetting to post anything… I’m sorry I will have my backlog queued up soon!) I have finally accumulated enough power… to revive my ancient human superhero Sonic AU and make it actually good! Here’s a bunch of my sketches, mainly of Sonic and Tails but also of a bit of lore… More to come later!