#sorry this is super long lmao

[sandeewithtwoe]

do you perhaps has any interpretation on what PJ would look like a human? (i like the idea that they have vitiligo like ink)

Ok so I spent all night yesterday thinking about this cause I didn’t really have one before this ask

To begin, PJ has Ink’s vitiligo, face shape, nose, smile and natural hair colour (light beige). On Error’s side, she has his yellow teeth, dark skin and (somewhat) thick eyebrows. No, the yellow teeth can’t go away

They have alopecia, a buzz cut and generally dyes their remaining hair magenta, cyan and yellow. For those who don’t know, alopecia is a disease that causes hair loss. I include it to reference his missing head part in his original design. They also wear piercings such as: a nose piercing, helix and lobe.

Here are some hair dye pattern I messed around with. You can see his natural hair colour in the top right

And that’s it! Thank you for listening to my Ted talk!!

Original Paperjam belongs to 7goodangel

[spoiledskullz]

paranormal investigation date hooray!!!!

Edit: a close up version since they're hard to see

[spookygibberish]

Dogstock are typical of what are often deemed the ‘evil’ races in many other fantasy works. They were created by some higher force to be slaves, they are carnivorous by nature, they resemble animals other than human in dentition and build. They growl and bite and walk behind.

The Uhasr (a dogstock culture) are descendants of such slave-infantry that was abandoned when the empire that used them to capture the steppes decided the land wasn’t so profitable after all, and more pressing matters drew their attention elsewhere. Like tools left spent on the ground, the unneeded, excess dogstock were left to survive on their own in Hochkiskuph. The native peoples, of course, did not welcome them any more, or see them any less as oppressors when the hand released the lead. To the Hochkiskuph peoples, the Uhasr are a predatory ghost, an echo that consumes them even in absentia. To the Uhasr, one human is much like another, differing in number and equipment, but never in essence. Uhasr are a species of wild animal with a human face. Humans are prey on two legs. Humans smoke and poison uncovered dens on principle, Uhasr abduct and consume men and women and children all the same.

A common trend I have noticed in media which aims to humanize monsters, is that it often relies on passivity. Humanity is contingent upon kindness. The monster that is A Person only so long as they are a harmless thing at heart, something which can be understood and befriended. Their violence is reluctant, their hearts noble. Grace is a concession to the dominated. Only the toothless beast, declawed and pinioned and caged, is one which has earned its personhood. The ontological enemy supersedes the ontological man.

[kazzettes]

Ladybug Week 2023 Day 1, Oct. 23rd: College AU

With a Freezerburn guest appearance.

This one's for all my fellow Ladybug fans. (All, like, 2 of them).

When I sat down to draw this my brain went on a tangent and created its own full-on fanfiction, lol.

Basically, Ruby is this super talented freshman in the engineering department who's been gaining the attention of all the professors since she enrolled. She singlehandedly became the lead of the Science and Technology committee, which both she and her buddy Penny attend.

Yang is on a sport scholarship and is part of the Volleyball team together with Blake. She and her buddy Pyrrha are the aces of the team. She's very talented at the sport despite not seeming to have any aspirations to pursue it as a career…? Like Ruby she's also enrolled in engineering.

Blake is the Visa student- her parents saved money their entire lives to send her to a good university in a first world country. She joined the volleyball team with the goal to save money with a scholarship, but ended up enjoying being part of the team. She's chronically broke and isn't legally allowed to work due to her Visa status, but her buddy Sun hooks her up with some shady jobs that she takes from time to time to earn some cash. She met Ruby through Yang, who started inviting her out for lunch to discuss their shared favorite books series. Blake only agreed at first for the free food but eventually ended up enjoying and seeking out Ruby's company.

Weiss is this turbo-preppy model student and the president of the Student Organization's Committees. She had some friction with Ruby at first due to their clashing personalities but they eventually grew to respect each other. She met Yang through Ruby and was immediately smitten. She's suspicious of Blake and thinks she and her buddy Sun are bad influences on Ruby.

[the-adventures-of-dave]

im not saying this to come at you, as a bengal owner myself (though i do not plan to purchase any more of them), but aren’t there issues of ethicality surrounding the bengal breed as well, because of their wild cat blood? in particular ive heard stories from vets online regarding the fact that they do not handle visits the way fully domestic animals do and can be dangerous as a result. i see this in my own bengal as well despite his coming from a reliable and reputable breeder and regularly receiving comments from vets that he is very well behaved for the breed. despite being generations down, the wild blood has a clear effect on how well he handles shots, flea treatments, etc. however, outside of vets, very few people seem to actually discuss this matter in relation to the breed. i had personally not even thought about it until i saw them compared to wolfdogs, so i thought to bring it up to you in case you were the same.

Hey there anon, it's no trouble at all! I'll split this into two parts. It's gonna be a long one, so take a look under the cut for my answers (and a very cute photo of Kep).

The question about aggression is interesting to me, as I've never actually heard of bengal-specific aggression before. To vetblr and catblr, what are your experiences with bengal aggression? Do you find the breed leans one way or another?

On that note, let's look at aggression. Like I said, this ask is actually the first I've ever heard of bengal cats being aggressive! Of all the bengal owners I've talked to, both breeders and your average folk, none mentioned anything about human or cat aggression in bengals. As a high energy breed, bengals are known to be environmentally destructive when understimulated, but I can't find anything supported by science stating the breed is any more or less human/cat aggressive than your regular tabby. In talking to both my vet and acquaintances that work at vet clinics, they've all only had positive things to share about bengal personalities.

In my own F7 bengal experience Kepler is as sweet as a button, and even in high stress situations like parties or vet visits he is calm and friendly. He's never had issues with shots, ultrasounds, flea treatments, or handling from the vet. (Dave my domestic shorthair, on the other hand, needs multiple drugs including complete anesthetic to prevent him from hurting himself or veterinary staff, and has a greater history of aggressive behaviour). I actually purchased Kepler because the bengal personality seemed a lot safer and more consistent than adopting a dsh from the shelter and risking owning two aggressive cats.

(A photo of Kepler at the fear free vet, allowing them to lay him on his back for an ultrasound and urine collection.)

Regarding ethics, the issue most look to is the Wild x Domestic cross of the asian leopard cat and domestic shorthair. In the United States and other countries with lax animal welfare laws, poaching and private ownership of servals to create the Savannah breed is an ongoing issue, so it makes sense to want to apply the same logic to bengals.

The reason the cross is not an issue to me personally is that the bengal is considered a "closed breed" under the TICA and CFA, meaning that breeders can no longer register and show <F4 bengals or create new bengal bloodlines by outcrossing to the asian leopard cat. As of this change reputable registered bengals are considered a fully domestic cat and not a wild cross.

(The CFA breed standard stating no bengal can be outcrossed to asian leopard cats.)

This means that so long as you source your pet from a registered and reputable breeder, you are not contributing to the poaching or the unethical breeding of wild mixes. It's a fantastic inclusion, as it also actively discourages people from poaching, owning and breeding wildlife. It also makes it clear to potential cat owners like myself which breeders to avoid (ie. those that don't register or show their "bengals").

As an Albertan Canadian I also have further peace of mind as it is illegal for people in this province to own or import wildlife or wild mixes F4 or below, so there is no chance of getting a poached cat (or its offspring) unless I went to the black market or a particularly shady breeder.

Are there people in the United States and other countries that still cross domestics with ALCs? Most definitely. But I personally don't think that owning a cat that is;

Purchased from a reputable breeder;

Barred by law to be a recent outcross; and

Registered under a cat fancy that discourages outcrossing

actively supports modern poaching or unethical wildlife ownership. Cat fancy has taken steps to minimize the harm of bengal breeding and ownership on wildlife while still preserving a bit of cat history. Those steps are sufficient enough for me to be comfortable with it, and I hope that breeds like the savannah cat follow in their footsteps with a closed breed standard.

That being said, if the history of the bengal upsets you or is something that rubs you the wrong way, I wouldn't fault you for it. Wildlife and animal welfare is a bit of a tricky business, and it's not always black and white. Just make sure to do your research and be open to multiple opinions. I appreciate you reaching out to me, and I hope my own thoughts have given you something to think about, even if you don't agree. Cheers!

[seawing-vibes]

Finally did this !!! With Sora :) !! She’s one of my favs so I had to do her designs <33 The top row is more of ‘canon’ designs for her to me, so the graphic novel and wiki design’s + Liighty’s design will always prevail as the Sora I think of when reading the books lmao

The bottom row are all designs from artists on Tumblr ! All of these designs are soo good an all these artists are super great at designing so check em’ out !!

Liighty - Wings of Fire PMV: Sora: In Fact

@avianwofdesigns - Sora

@wofdesignhub - Sora

@daily-wof-designs - Sora

Here is the blank template if anyone else wants to do this!! Unfortunately I can’t find CanineDragons’ original post so this is a version I scraped together from the OG template !!

[violinist-rachel]

Rachel, did you love karl again

"H-huh?... Carl who...? Sagan...?" "I -hic -enjoyed watching his show growing up, but I haven't -hic- met him in person before..."

[can-of-slorgs]

caw 🦅

[sweetandglovelyart]

Knightfall in Dream Land - Page 11

Meta Knight meets the Meta Knights, gets some armor, and sets off in search of Whispy Woods.

[torchickentacos]

SURPRISE, more landscape digital art be upon ye! Forest!

Steps/process under cut with full image IDs for each!

[azuneekun]

Hi! I really love your art! I have a new farmer OC that I've been wanting to show off, but I don't know how to introduce them, do you have any tips? I would draw them but idk how

i hope you have a good time introducing your farmer!

[pkmn-smashorpass]

blaziken will always be special to me cause after I had a car accident, holding onto my tiny blaziken plushie made me feel safe enough to get into a car again, so I'd say Blaziken has already smashed me, in my heart.

YOURE NOT ALLOWED TO MAKE ME CRY ON THE POKÉMON SEX BLOG 🥺

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit. 

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 

He had to get out of here. 

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox

[torao-chan]

So going back and forth about Leander I was wondering how quick you caught on to his scheming. Because I first I didn’t like him but I didn’t really have a reason why I just didn’t. But upon rereading his dialogue I was like hmmmmm

Oh man, I clicked like. maybe three lines in.

I have what my friend affectionately dubs an 'evil-dar'. I may not be able to tell you exactly why someone's fucked up, but if I see them and I immediately like them- they fucked up.

Probably, I think the earliest sign for me, was the emphasis on performing.

A pair of gilded boots stride across the tabletop. "Seriously, you dogs? Again?" Scattered laughter and cheers rise from the audience. I drag my eyes upwards... a well-dressed man stand on the table in front of me, his broad shoulder framed by the thick lapels of a trench coat. "This really is the last time, alright?" This time, when he speaks, the audience falls silent, as though bewitched by his magnetic presence or rich, low voice. But nothing is as captivating as his smile. He beams at the crowd around him, a performer on his makeshift stage. "Don't blink, or you'll miss it."

These were the bits the immediately drew me in, the bolded bits. And it's the bolded, italicized bits that immediately made me go 'he's hiding something, and it's horrific, and I want to know more.'

Gilded boots in a downtown pub; carefully designed, likely expensive in taste, and yet he's in the slums- the place where people pull a face when you mention going there. It doesn't say cheaply gilded, or with a fancy design- it's just gilded. It's intentionally not giving us much, but telling us something important- this is a man who is conscious of his appearance. Of how he looks, how he presents, right down to the design on his boot. And he cares enough to throw money at it. If it was just from his upbringing, he wouldn't maintain them, wouldn't still have them today. We don't have a word describing how put together the boots are, how well maintained, but we do immediately get told that he's a performer. It's highly likely that they are chosen and maintained intentionally.

"This really is the last time, alright?" is tasty tasty to me. How will this be inflected, when voiced properly? Is this an establishment of boundaries, from a man placating his pack of puppies? A certain firmness there, that indicates that his word is law here; he's not joking this time? Or is it a man caving to the pleads of his people, throwing them another bone to keep them satisfied in between working on other schemes? Either way, this is a man who has power and is prone to indulging people; and indulging them in a way that indicates he is above them. Whether intentionally or not, consciously or not, this is the stance it takes- to me, at least.

The audience is bewitched by him, the mage. His charisma is high, he's generally liked and adored, and that means he's a man who can get away with a lot of shit. He can work a crowd, appeal to masses and individuals as one, and makes them all feel special- whether they're all together or by themselves. This gets emphasized a lot later, too, and in a lot of his profiles and lil details, but this is when I knew that. He knows how to work a person, and that usually comes from trauma or social ambition, and either way- I'm interested and hungry.

The fact that they outright state he's "a performer on his makeshift stage" makes me so ravenous alksjgldsjgl. The table is his stage, the pub is his stage, heck! The whole town is his stage and he's performing nonstop the entire time we interact with him. Fake or real, undecided- but performing nonetheless. A performance doesn't have to be dishonest, but it is intentional. And intentional means that there's a goal to be achieved- grand or otherwise.

And then there's the warning.

Three lines in (damn, I was right- literally three lines of dialogue from him).

"Don't blink, or you'll miss it."

Such an enticing statement, always. It's so easy to miss, his flashes of soul under the performance. The moment in the pub, later, when he's content to leave the chaos to reign until the player turns to him for help (and then he sighs, like he didn't want to, wasn't planning to, but who was he to let down a new audience member?). The moment of flat on his face, when you refuse his hand, and he grabs you anyway, determined to pull you into his web, into his puppet show. You could be a valuable piece- a fresh pawn off the woodcarver's table, and unblemished, yet, by the rest of the city. The moment when he looses his composure slightly, unaware to what extent Kuras had seen you during your examination.

There's so much there that sold him to me immediately as a favourite, as a schemer, as someone to watch out for because they've always got a knife three inches from your back, and that is super attractive, but man.

Yea, three lines of dialogue in, and I knew.

As my friend said, I have an 'evil-dar'. asdlkjlgsjg if I like the character, she knows 9/10 times, they're definitely fucked up in some way aslkjdklgsdg

[hella1975]

i need to read more books and annotate in the margins i need to write more i need to buy jeans that fit me i need to eat more fruit i need to buy good quality headphones i need to get a skincare routine i need to talk to my friends more i need to wash my hair i need to stop treating this inhabitation as a curse. i am tired of punishing the body that has fought me for survival every day for years. i deserve little treats as regularly as possible !!

[bacchuschucklefuck]

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