#king carnivore art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlefreya · 9 months

Text

Summary: Revenge is a dish best-served cold

Pairing: AU! Pirate August Walker x OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+. No smut, but sexual themes are mentioned, as well as dark themes - he is a pirate. Possible historical inaccuracy. This is not the real Blackbeard. Mentions of kidnapping.

A/N: Not beta’d. Many thanks to @agniavateira @luna-aestas and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether for the support, and thanks to @geralts-yenn because this story started as a 15-minute challenge, and I ended up writing a whole shot. There might be a part 2, and this might turn into a series. We will see after my anxiety runs its course :D

Thanks for reading, and please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :)

Neptune's Snare

The soggy wooden platform creaked beneath her feet as she climbed onto the main deck. Each step eliciting s husky wail - a sorrowful hymn to the lost maidens of the sea - those who would never return, those devoured by the sinful desires of monstrous captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker.

Whatever madness drove women to go there willingly was beyond comprehension. No more than a tomb, the ship alone looked like a carnivorous maw; black iron spikes stood firmly at the bow, and the sheer size of it was enough to strike fear at the heart of even the bravest sailor.

Yet, there she was, draped in a black velvet cloak and an ivory corset dress, willingly marching toward grave danger.

Dozens of ragged men welcomed her onboard, filthy scoundrels, all drenched in an exotic mixture of sweat and alcohol. Hungry, their eyes gnawed at her tender flesh, but none would dare touch her. If August’s crew knew one thing, it’s that some fates are much, much more worse than death.

It didn’t stop them from taunting. Suckling their lips, they followed the girl on her march toward the captain’s cabin. Cheer and chortle in their voice as they imagined the obscenities their captain was about to perform on this naive girl.

“Pity, he never let us look…” whined one of the pirates while the other bood.

“Aye, you mad to come ‘er tonight. The cap’n hasn’t had his fill in weeks, lass. He would sure pillage each of you’ holes tonight.”

“He gonna paint her full of his sea foam!”

The entire ship roared with their laughter. The girl, however, kept a blank face and, without spending any minute longer, opened the door to the captain's cabin.

Bright, golden luminance blinded Lizette’s sight as she entered the cabin. The walls were plated by ornaments made of gold, reflecting the sparkle of the hundred candles that burnt at the decorated candelabras and crystal chandelier. Fine works of art hung from each wall, and on a vast lacquered table stood a plethora of delicacies that made Lizette’s belly gurgle.

She stared at the table momentarily, almost fooled by the obvious seduction. In complete opposite to the murky exterior of the ship, the captain’s chamber was a room fit for kings, sputtering style, elegance and riches. Perhaps this was how he lured them. The poor naive girls truly believed he would give them a better life. But Blackbeard was no king, nor was he a gentleman. He was the deadliest man the world has ever known - a serpent, nightshade - all he could give a woman was death.

“Take off your cowl.”

A deep voice called from behind, dark and mysterious as the ocean. It struck like an icy shard through her spine, making her shoulders jerk and stiffen. It was odd to know someone by hundred of myths and stories spun around them and have men mimic their voice in an attempt to portray them but never know what they truly sounded like.

As it turned out, August sounds like a man one doesn’t refuse.

Obedient, Lizette pulled the cowl from her head - slow as she would unwrap a much-anticipated present. Her gaze kept to the floor still, continuing to play the coy virgin the Captain wanted her to be, though if she had to be honest - she was terrified of whatever hideous monster she would soon have to face.

There must have been a reason why the women who came here never left. Lizette was willing to bet every dime in her pocket that August was the most gruesome, repulsive creature, and the only way for him to keep people from knowing was by murdering each woman he bedded!

“Shy, aren’t we?” Blackbeard murmured with a dry chuckle and began to circle her, observing his bounty from side to side.

“I quite enjoy shy,” he chuckled once more, his voice almost a groan.

She forced herself not to flinch too much. She could sense his glare upon her, stripping her garment by garment, weighing what he earned tonight and considering all the ways in which he would pillage her body. It made her feel like she was one of the delicacies that rested on his table rather than a person.

After gyrating around her and inspecting each crease of her body, August finally returned to his starting spot behind her and, in a low, delighted groan, demanded, “Turn around.”

Doing as he commanded, she turned to him, still keeping her glance plastered to the floor, her breathing now shallow as the air in the room grew magically stuffy. She could spot his blurry silhouette from the corner of her eye; a tall and fit man, rather broad. It seemed that he was doing a loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers, and from his waistband - a gleam of silver winked back.

“Are you a mute?”

Another chill shot through her as he spoke. Absentminded, she swallowed. “No…” embarrassingly, her voice cracked; she took a deep breath and reprimanded, “No, sir. Just nervous.”

“Captain,” he corrected.

Lizette nodded but did not repeat him. She couldn’t. Words died on her tongue as the Captain made a bold step toward her, drawing dangerously near. He paused for a shy second, fingers laced together, contemplating, before he reached a fist beneath her chin and, in a ceremonious tenderness, lifted her chin.

The air drained from her completely. Her lips parted in a mixture of fear and astonishment.

It couldn’t be.

Perhaps she had the wrong man?

Grey, ocean-eyes peered at her through a face that women and men would damn themselves for. No! Even angels would. His jaw was sharp and profound, statuesque like cut marble - dashed with dark stubble and a thick raven-black moustache. His lips, though chafed from the salty sea breeze, were plumped and shaped to be kissed, and while some of his curls were streaked with silver, he still had a healthy mane of hair on his head.

‘He could have been a decent man,’ she thought, ‘and yet he chose this?!’

There was an obscure attractive melancholy to his looks - almost tragic.

August took another moment to study her face, a frown slowly forming on his ridged brow. “You look familiar…”

“I work the docks,” she answered almost immediately.

His stare deepened, eyes dropping to her cleavage momentarily before returning to pierce back into the back of her skull, “Skin too soft. Too shy to be a prostitute.”

His fingers wrapped around her chin, caging it between his thumb and his index in a tight grip, making it hurt. He tilted his head, daring her to come up with another lie.

“The tavern,” Lizette answered, firm and steadfast. She did not flinch from his touch, even though every instinct begged her to.

“And you came to me. Why?”

“What girl wouldn’t give everything for a night with the notorious Captain Blackbeard? The living legend… the king of pirates.” She softened her eyes as much as possible and offered a shy pout to reconcile him.

August chewed on the inside of his cheek; storm clouds gathered on his pale eyes as he contemplated. They both knew she was flattering him to gain his trust and save her pretty little neck. It wasn’t a situation he hadn’t encountered in the past. They both also knew that he was stronger, bigger and armed and could snap said pretty little neck in less than a split second.

“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded.

She nodded, her throat clenching.

August lingered on her response and, after what felt like an eternity, offered a small grin and pinched her chin sweetly as if to praise her before moving a step closer. Lizette smiled back nervously. She could sense his rum-drenched breath on her face. The scent was so pungent it made her moan invulnerably.

Or perhaps it was the anxiety that was eating into her heart.

“Ever sucked a cock, pet?”

His question was answered by a small click that echoed through the quarter and the press of hard, cold metal against the bare parts of his chest.

Not stepping back, he slowly, almost theatrically, spread his arms into a gesture of defeat while peering at the girl. No rage nor fear painted his face, and as he spoke, there was neither surprise in his voice.

“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”

Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.

“What is it that I do, pet?”

Offering a sly grin, the pirate pressed against the barrel; the oceans in his glare darkened. As Lizette stared back, she could have sworn the many shades of blue in his sights shifted and swayed like angry waves. Quickly brushing the thought away, she cocked the gun in a warning, her little thumb grazing the trigger.

But to August, it was clear that the girl had never killed anyone before, and the longer she stalled, the more shaky her hand became. Taunting, he moved further into the barrel, which forced her to take a step back.

“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke.

August brushed her warning away, moving forward instead. He had been so nimble in his movement, fluid, like a sea creature himself. Only now she realised that his hands were no longer in the air.

“Was it your dear mother?” He suggested. “Father? Sister?” He paused and offered a vicious smirk, “Ah… I see, A lover. Well, to that, I surely deserve to die. Go ahead, pet, pull the trigger.”

His slender, heavily ringed fingers reached to envelop the barrel, holding the pistol steady for the girl. Every breath he took pressed the metal harder against his sternum. Lizette could sense his heartbeat pulsating through the barrel, the thrum of his blood nearly mingling with her own. No longer steady, her digit quivered around the trigger and in her throat, she felt the strenuous hold of anger, guilt and hatred.

“You have taken everything from me!” She simply answered.

Soon her sight became blurry, and wetness gathered beneath her eyes.

‘Do it, do it now.’

Another click sounded in the room. Louder than the cocking of a gun.

Lizette’s eyes flared in shock, and before she could pull the trigger, August had carefully veered the gun from his chest and, in a tenderness that was accustomed to lovers, snatched it from her hand. His other hand laid still on her neck, fastening the iron collar he granted her.

“Good girl,” he teased and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl who was too struck by her own misfortune and stupidity to react.

With the pistol safely placed in his waistband, the pirate stepped back, face alighted, eyes sparkling with starlight cascade, like a child who had just earned a new toy. He clasped his hands together, ecstatic; thick silver rings chiming as they collided.

“I haven’t taken everything from you, pet. but I am going to…”

With one last slanted grin, the pirate turned on his heels and marched toward the door, not bothering to bid farewell as he left and locked the door behind him.

Panicked, Lizette reached her hands to the iron collar, desperately trying to pry it off her neck despite knowing there was no logic in pulling at the heavy metal.

“Please!” Tears trickled down her cheeks and chin, “no! No! No! Please!”

Through the open window, she could hear the captain's voice barking orders, commanding his men to lift anchor and set sail.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x ofc #AU!August Walker #Pirate August Walker #Pirate Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader

467 notes · View notes

vulturereyy · 29 days

Note

Gimme a Lurien song

I’m starving, Darling Let me put my lips to something Let me wrap my teeth around the world Start carving, Darling I want to smell the dinner cooking I want to feel the edges start to burn Honey, I Want to race you to the table If you hesitate The getting is gone I won’t lie If there’s something to be gained There’s money to be made Whatever's still to come

youtube

I know Hozier is so typical but genuinely i think this song (along with @asp1diske-art amazing art, PLEASE go check their stuff out if you want god-tier lurien and monomon interactions) is kind of what planted the nugget in my head of Lurien and PK having a... tumultuous working relationship, to say the least. This song came out right around the time I was getting into HK fandom, and I didn't hear it as soon as it came out, but when it did-- it struck a chord with me. I think it's also part of the reason I made Lurien a carnivorous bug; I remember I was originally very enthralled by the butterfly or moth Lurien headcanons, but something about the embroiled irony and anger and the political implications of this song stuck with me. Both irl and also in my headcanons. I still very often think about making the animatic in my head about Lurien taunting the Pale King to this song about the vessel/dreamer plan and his sheer dissatisfaction with it, but we all know how that ends. RIP to this ten of swords tarot wip I never finished but still really like; the original file name was 'Eatyouryoung'. (This was pre-divine/feral anger era lurien in my creation timeline, so he looks a bit more downtrod here, but don't worry i made him more fucked up since)

i will sneak in a second one as well for Lurimol..

How ever fast I dance to make the sun shine I will never fall down No matter what it takes, I'll try to save the ghost lights How ever hard I pray to remake you mine I will never feel down No matter what it takes, I'll try to save the ghost lights

youtube

#ask meme #lurien the watcher

30 notes · View notes

road-kill-eater · 4 months

Note

what do you think of people making their own tonitrui characters? I love your work, the faces are super nice to look at, teeth and all

i dont mind at all! tonitrui are very close to my heart as theyre by far my oldest original species/headworld, but ive yet to actually do anything with them and dont really have much motivation to do so. the tonitrui i primarily draw are ocs from another story entirely which is fundamentally a human story, but i vastly prefer drawing the weird goats over humans.

i suppose this is also as good a time as any to "officially" describe tonitrui.

there are some rules that come with them since they are designed to inhabit a specific setting and play a certain role within their world. but at the same time i dont really care much, and have always enjoyed seeing other peoples takes on the species in the past, even if they break some rules

theyre a primarily carnivorous species which is on average 2 feet taller than the average human, ranging between 6-8 feet in height. this great size, along with their diet has forced the southern portion of their population to rely heavily upon fishing and animal agriculture to support a substantial population/military, and to eschew many of the superfluous aspects of their historical culture. as a result tonitrui are generally very utilitarian, what few festivals and art they have is generally related to bloodsports and ritual combat. they are a race strongly influenced by the pressures surrounding them, this primarily being other equally sapient but different races which they compete with for land and resources. unlike other races they have no allies, and either conquer or destroy their foes, however their colonial and expansionist tendencies can't keep up with a dwindling population, subseptibility to disease, civil war, corruption, and general hubris.

as for religion, monarchist tonitrui have a historical theistic framework that they have mostly abandoned, for good reason. many generations prior (to the general timeline) their corresponding creator god (each race was created by an individual god, the many civilizations acting as a living chess game, this is not known to the mortals below, they dont know they exist to better the social reputation of another entity entirely) walked among them as a god king. this was of course seen as blatant foul play by the fellow players so they locked it in that mortal form, and being confronted by mortality drove it mad. the specifics of whether or not the god king killed itself, or was murdered by his own subjects is widely disputed, but the impact of that betrayal has turned much of the kingdom off theism entirely. luck and chance are the spirits that tonitrui pray to now, even if ever since, their civilization has begun to crumble from within and without. their every enterprise fails, their wars of conquest fold back in on their own territory, plague strikes them endlessly.

the northern population is technically part of the southern kingdom, however their way of life (more nomadic, hunter-gatherer based) has typically set them apart. there is still free trade and travel between them, and they still pay taxes and obey military conscription, however there is increasing resistance to these, and governmental authority weakens as the northern population becomes more preoccupied with their own struggles.

in terms of morphology, tonitrui have two sets of flat incisors much like a horse, prominent canines which can occassionally stick out between their lips, and canine-like carnassials and molars. their faces are rather stiff for the most part and they primarily emote through their eyes, the corners of their mouths, their ears, and the tilt and posture of their big heads. they can just barely lift their top lip, and the muscles that control snarling and snout wrinkling in mammals are quite reduced or nonexistent in tonitrui, they compensate for this by opening their jaws very wide as an aggressive signal, and sometimes slamming their lower jaw shut to clack their teeth, but the latter is super rude, its basically a death threat.

their horns are primarily for display purposes, with a huge amount of variety that distinguishes individuals and family lines. generally their horns are relatively small when compared to those of existing ungulates, and particularly large horns are seen as ungainly and may be trimmed down in order to keep appearances and prevent them from being used against them in combat. young tonitrui naturally have the desire to ram their nubby horns against things, much to their parents exasperation, and everything breakable has to be well hidden in the household. though this is considered a childish and unrefined form of combat by the mainstream population, some more isolated villages still hold contests of strength where one must push their opponent past a line with only their horns.

their feet have no distinct nails and the toes are progressively keratinized until they are quite hard at the very tip, useful for gripping a variety of surfaces. in appearance they sort of resemble a blend of claws and hooves, clooves if you will.

tonitrui are generally covered in a short, peach fuzz fur that thickens around their head, neck and down the length of their spines, and this is generally accompanied by a dorsal stripe of darker fur and lighter patterning on their chest and bellies. their patterning is usually very basic, darkened extremities tend to be more common in northern populations, and piebaldism pops up a lot in the south. their colors range from white to gray to black, to tan to gold to brown. northern tonitrui generally have shorter, broader snouts, smaller ears, and a mane that covers the entire circumference of their neck rather than just the top ridge. however the two populations have mixed to the point that these traits can be found across their entire range.

tonitrui always get their tails docked as infants, and if it isnt done by their families for some reason, individuals will often have the procedure done later in life to prevent the associated social rejection. tails are considered an unnecessary extravagance and liability, especially given how long and thin they are by nature. in a duel or battle they are easily broken, or used to pull an enemy off balance. back during the formation of their kingdom and the conquering of atomized clans into one entity, soldiers would often cut the tails off the locals and whip them with them as punishment for crimes real and imagined, so docking became a practice of integration, and preemptively avoided such humiliation. and whatever practice is compulsory in the military quickly becomes unofficially expected in the rest of the population.

in terms of gender norms, tonitrui arent beholden to anything resembling the human concept. they arent even mammals, and while they have the two typical sexes, they have far less sexual dimorphism than humans, and both sexes have the capacity to feed their young via specialized glands in their throats. females are on average smaller and slighter than males, but this remains the primary difference, and as a result social norms and gender roles are far reduced in tonitrui culture. personal wealth does tend to accumulate with the matriarch of a family because they are more likely not to die in battle. historically females have never been conscripted in the military, although there was no rule against them signing up until relatively recently, due to the powers that be realizing that males are far less crucial to the longevity of a society, especially one with a dwindling population.

#tonitrui

39 notes · View notes

dj4jungshook · 10 months

Note

Who in Makoto's harem is the most jealous. And how does she express that jealousy?

The most jealous are Junko, Mukuro, Mikan, Akane ,Peko Toko obviously Sayaka ,Celestia, Sonia .let's say the most DANGEROUS!

Junko shows her jealousy very visible, to put it obsessive and almost a compliment to her in moments of pure jealousy he is subject to hallucinations and attacks of psychosis. but at the same time it gives her a touching sense of desperation, it makes her horny. as if to dissuade her from using an ax to use against her rivals.

Mukuro competes on the same level of jealousy with Junko in being two carnivorous women and the two Alphas are physically stronger and gifted yes, even sexually. Mukuro is the one who feels a lot of love for Makoto and feels really bad about not having enough attention Being his trusted stalker. obsessively writing with the knife on the wall makoto is mine

Peko has been a lethal weapon since childhood. It's normal that she feels a little jealous especially of the kind smiles that other girls give her for makoto, well at least she has a method to appease the blood cult. Think you have kittens and pet them.

Celestia is used to having everything she wants right away and she can't tolerate being set aside because of some low-level stupid sluts, oh how much she wants to crack their skulls with a hammer .

Sayaka is a real psychopath and who thinks she has the right to have Makoto just for her. exploiting cyberbullying or pitting her fans against her rivals. sometimes she plays the victim so as to attract Makoto's temptation.

Akane ragische like a rabid animal and who doesn't take NO for an answer is always excited always look for a tax dispute.

Sonia is the one who suffers the most being the perfect beautiful princess and that everyone falls at her feet. and she doesn't understand why her predestined ignores her or has no interest in becoming KING. Sonia is learning to practice voodoo or dark arts to get the other girls off Makoto's mind and keep it all to herself. and if that doesn't work, adopt a clockwork orange-style method of re-education

Mikan is Mikan we all know how he reacts and also his treatment methods! she is very scary when she doesn't get Naegi's attention. and has saliva samples, Makoto's blood but would like another type of sample. I need a lot of help from Miaya

Toko is probably the most normal and healthy of all the others. Yes! steals and sniffs Makoto's T-shirts, writes down his naughty fantasies and watch him sleep . it's nothing creepy.

#Danganronpa #naegi x harem #makoto x harem #Toko Fukawa #Mikan Tsumiki #Sonia Nevermind #Akane Owari #Peko pekoyama #Sayaka Maizono #Celestia Ludenberg #Junko Enoshima #Mukuro ibukasa #yandere danganronpa

73 notes · View notes

dathomirdumpsterfire · 6 months

Text

who's ready for more king of the dragonfish??? 🔥

Want to be on the tag list? Have an idea for next chapter? Clicked the wrong option? Reblog or Comment! New? Start 👇🏽here to catch up. Chapter 3 is down below the cut.

@obimaulartfire @savageopressbignaturals

(Art by Obimaulartfire! Check out the full cut on their blog, or at the end of chapter 1.)

-Chapter Three-

Maul cackles when the jedi goes limp in his hold. Weak. Defeated. Submissive. Oh, what a beautiful thing it is!

He dumps the other man onto his ass and retreats to the water's edge, nearly euphoric. "Enjoy your prison, Kenobi. I hope you find it very comfortable."

Blue eyes glare at him from the floor, but it only delights him further. Maul rolls backwards on slippery black scales, and disappears into the water.

It is time to let the jedi stew in his dwindling hope. Maul intends to find ways to give it back to him... and take it... and give it... and take it. The perfect game, endless amusement until he decides it is time to break the jedi for good.

He swims gracefully through the cave system, almost dancing through the water in his delight. Maul heads for open seas and the room to move. There is a geyser field not far off, with luminous magma flows on the sea floor which make for warm currents and good hunting. The perfect place to plan his next move.

Kenobi, Kenobi, Kenobi… how to keep a Kenobi? To keep him bloody, barely mobile? To keep him starved, begging for food? To keep him... or to kill him?

Oh, ohhhh, how good it would feel to plunge his claws into the jedi's guts, to tear his liver from him and eat it while he watches, hopeless and dying. The very idea is enough to give Maul the chills.

But only… only once. He can only kill Kenobi once.

It would not do to rush the finale, he thinks. Killing him too quickly would only rob Maul of his due, and spare him the full spread of his just desserts.

The dragonfish sith rides the thermals of the magma field, and tries to focus through his own crazed glee enough to plan. Enough to think through logistics.

How best to keep a Kenobi?

First, containment.

The caves were his home, winding tunnels with multiple air pockets, rooms as big as a cargo bay and as small as a closet. It had always been a boon that some sections went closer to the surface… but did they go too close? How far could a force user go without breathing? He isn't sure, anymore. Some knowledge from his old life is simply gone, decomposed during the process of his rebirth.

He would have to get Kenobi to admit to his own limits.

Hmmm… perhaps putting something the jedi wants into a cave not far from the empty room he was stuck in, and encouraging him to go to it? Then another thing, a little further away. He could see how much effort it took…

Yes, a test. He could design a test. That would do. Later.

What else? …food. Yes, food was important.

Maul snatches a blind eel fish from the rocks, and considers it thoughtfully before tearing it's head off with his teeth. Could Kenobi eat eel? Crab? Can jedi live off the sea as he does? Could their weak stomachs process raw fish? This knowledge is also missing, and what personal references he has to compare it with are spoiled by dint of his original species. Zabrak were obligate carnivores. He is still an obligate carnivore. Unhelpful.

But would a hungry jedi admit what he wanted to eat? Maul could even frame it as a kindness, to keep him off base. Room service in prison, what luxury!

He rolls over in the water, laughing silent bubbles that catch the green glow of his eyes and scatter it. The light attracts a school of small, clear fish. He plucks one from the stream of them and pops it in his mouth like an hors d'oeuvre.

What else, what else…

Containment, nourishment… hm. Maul struggles to think of what else a prisoner might need to survive. Perhaps more will come to him later? He will think on it again. In the meantime, he will go back to Kenobi. Watch him, and see if he tries to escape, to wander, or to get into Maul's private cave. There are weapons there, and he will not be allowed such things.

With sufficient plans for the time being, the dragonfish sith returns, drifting into the water of the prison cave slowly, stealthily. He rises up in a shadowy corner so that only his eyes and ears are above the water line.

The jedi is still there. He is pacing, holding a wristcomm up to his mouth and speaking into it.

"This is jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi. If anyone hears this message, please contact the temple on Coruscant and inform them that I am trapped underwater in a cave system off the coast of Theed. Tell them Darth Maul lives. You will be rewarded for the effort. Please."

Kenobi draws in a breath, turns to take another lap of the space, and begins again. "This is jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi…"

Maul covers his mouth with a hand, holding in the snickering that wants to escape and give his position away.

Oh how fun! The fool thinks a little wristcomm has enough signal strength to be heard through leagues of water and stone. Grinning, he sits and watches the other man uselessly call for help, making bets with himself on how long the hope would linger in those blue eyes, how many repetitions it would be before Kenobi gave up begging to empty ocean.

He gets to seventy four repeats before the jedi sits down on a rock, elbows on his knees. One hand holds up his forehead, while the other bears up the comm device to his mouth. At a hundred and sixteen loops his voice trails off, scratchy, and then he falls silent.

Maul slides through the water, going down and under, then coming back up in a pool close to the jedi's left side. He puts effort into stealth, setting his arms on the shore and putting his chin down on them.

There, he waits to be noticed.

Minutes tick by in a pleasant daze. Kenobi sits before him, bent and broken, hope for rescue leaking from him like a cracked glass. Maul watches the man, tail swishing in the water, and thinks he could do this for years. Just sit, and bear witness to Kenobi's growing misery.

The jedi coughs. The dragonfish sith frowns.

Kenobi coughs again, dragging a hand down his pale face.

He is falling ill? Already? Maul scowls ferociously. He is weak! Already he is dying? No! No!

The jedi can only die when he allows it, and not before!

His tail slaps the water in agitation, and they both freeze. The sith quickly wipes all expression from his face, relaxing back onto his forearms as Kenobi turns to look at him.

"Back again, I see," the man says grimly. "Come to kill me?"

Maul grins at him, ever cheered by the idea. The man looks at his mouth and grimaces, seemingly put off by all his excellent teeth.

"Did your allies not return your calls, jedi? What a shame... perhaps they do not want you anymore?" he says, in the tone of a sympathetic confidant. "Do not fret, I will keep you."

"Or you could not," the man suggests dryly. "What worth could I possibly have to you, except for dead?"

Maul laughs at his naivete. "Tell me Kenobi, what do you eat?"

The jedi turns on his rock to face Maul. "Are you taking special requests? Because I would trade my shirt for a shadwa club sandwich right now."

The sith snorts, "Think seafood, imbecile."

Kenobi looks at him, really looks at him, and Maul finds himself compelled to roll his tail, showing off the translucent blue fins and the pretty dots that line him.

He blinks, confused as to where that inclination had come from.

"You're intending to keep me alive then?" the jedi asks.

Maul refocuses, his grin returning as he drags himself up out of the water. He gathers the length of himself beneath his torso and sways closer. "Yesss, jedi. You are here to suffer. You may only know the privilege of death when I am satisfied with my revenge."

Kenobi looks up at him from under long, damp eyelashes, assessing. "I truly doubt you can keep me alive, sith. This cave of yours will run out of oxygen sooner rather than later. I'm already burning through energy trying to stay warm, because everything is wet and freezing cold. I am actively healing myself to handle the pressure acclimation, and I cannot continue for long without a place to rest that won't simply result in hypothermia. Besides, what am I to drink? Saltwater? Hah."

Maul leans back on his tail, brow furrowing.

The jedi stands to meet him, crossing his arms. "I'll be dead in hours at worst, days at best, so you had better decide between watching me asphyxiate, killing me yourself, or letting me go before it happens."

Maul gnashes his teeth in agitation, clawing at the force for answers. No. No! Hours? His revenge cannot end in hours! He has dreamed of it for years!

"Well?" Kenobi asks, droll, "What's it going to be, hmm? Murder or mercy?"

He hisses, "Shut up! I am thinking."

The jedi simply watches him, calm, leaning back on one hip.

Maul flexes his hands, clawed fingers clenching and unclenching. "You will not run out of air. It is always fresh here. Cold… cold. Water. Wetness. Cold. Water." He mutters to himself, thinking of solutions, then raises his chin. "What is most fatal to you, jedi? Which of these threats would steal you away from me first?"

Kenobi looks away, and for a moment it seems as if he's considering the consequences of silence… but then those blue eyes come back around. "The cold. I need to warm up, or my heart will give out."

The dragonfish sith mentally chews on that. He seems warm, to himself, but what temperature is that? Hm. The only thing also warm to him down here are the magma flows… but perhaps their gift could be borrowed?

"I will return," he says, and flips himself back into the water.

Maul swims out to the same field, sinking down and hunting until he finds a brightly lit geyser. The small mountain glows luminous and orange at the core, so hot that even the frigid seawater cannot temper it.

Cautiously, the sith reaches out with the force, pulling on a chunk of molten stone as big as he is. The magma is slippery and uncooperative, but he is determined and far more powerful than mere rock. He pulls a ball of it up and out of the geyser, pushing it through the water and away from the mount by the force.

As it rises the edges cool, becoming a black shell that belies the burning within. Once it is raised high he approaches, finding that it is too hot to touch, but pleasant to be near. Perfect.

Very pleased with himself, Maul swims back to the caves, fighting with the ball to get it through the winding corridor. At one point he has to set the black shell down and batter at an outcropping to make way. When approaching Kenobi's cave, he must also take care to keep the rock from touching the plants and burning their air-giving leaves and light shedding mosses.

He rises from the water perhaps half an hour after leaving. The jedi is in one corner, looking miserable and damp.

What a delightful thing to return to.

Maul drags the magma ball up into the room with the force, where it takes up space at the center. After a moment, steam begins to waft off the surface.

"What in the blazes is that?" asks the jedi, rising to his feet.

Maul points at it, preening, "Warm."

#chat writes the plot #the live feature we actually wanted #star wars #darth maul #sith #dathomir #maul opress #zabrak #nightbrothers #obi wan kenobi #obimaul #obiwan kenobi #Obi-Wan #obiwan #king of the dragonfish #flash fiction #naboo #monster!maul #jedi

18 notes · View notes

kawaiijohn · 1 year

Text

When the Stove is On, the Spirits of the Damned Scream so Loud you Cannae even Hear Yourself Think!

Chapter 1: The Stove IS On Fire Rating: T (swearing) WC: ~2.5k

Relationships: Past/Mentioned Pariah Dark/Clockwork, Danny Fenton & Clockwork, Pariah vs Observants, Pariah Dark & Danny Fenton

Tags: Pariah Dark Centric, Swearing, Crack with Plot, Home Renovations, Adult Danny Fenton, Ghost King Danny Fenton, manipulative Observants, Manipulative ClockWork, Divorced Exes, Scottish Accent Pariah, Pariah Dark wins the 'Not as Big of an Asshole as you Could Have Been' Award, Pariah Dark Redemption, Comedy, The Stove is Posessed, and on fire, Not Phantom Planet Compliant, Future Fic, Pariah Dark Gets Evicted Summary: Pariah Dark had been let out of his sarcophagus upon Phantom’s coronation, and as of losing the crown has become much more docile compared to his infamous rages. He simply wishes to live out the rest of his afterlife in his keep tending his garden and fixing the state of disrepair it had fallen into upon his imprisonment. Unfortunately for him, the Observants summon him to tell him he’s being evicted, due to Phantom not having a proper lair upon being a hybrid, and as such needs to show the new king around the keep. Pariah does have his own lair hidden somewhere, but he isn’t giving up the keep without a fight.

Alright so here's the Tumblr version of my @invisobang piece!

Sorry it's so late but my life has been *makes gestures of misery and suffering*

My partner is @ectoplasmicsoda who did some dope ass art for this fic, you should check it out, especially since he was able to bust both pieces out in under two days.

Anyways!

Here's a small preview!

Ex king Pariah Dark wipes sweat from his brow. It has taken quite a few hours, but as he holds the hose over his prized petunias, he takes pleasure in the soft sound of running water; quiet hisses mixed with ghastly little laughs. He listens, relaxing as he observes the Keep’s previously overgrown garden in triumph. Having been out of commission for a millennia or so did a hell of a number on his sanctuary. The negligence turning the once prized flowerbeds into nothing but overgrown carnivorous weeds and sharp wooden stems. T'was a shame too– the flowers that had grown here in his obsidian years were the best in the Infinite Realms!! Every single species a rarity in the Realms itself or prized for its shape or scent. Some so delicate, even a loud cough could cause the precious blossom to shrivel and End. He grumbles, remembering his beloved dirge roses, how they used to fill the grounds with the hallow sounds of the dead as he gracefully strolled. Their lovely glow one of the seven wonders of the Realms. And now? Long extinct. Even here. How dare those traitorous Ancients imprison him without letting a single ghost manage the Keep!! No wonder that conniving prick of a hybrid was able to walk right into the throne room and free him without trouble. He pinches his brow and takes a deep breath. Pariah tries not to let it get to him, he can't, no matter how agitated his core is to see his beloved garden in such a state. No amount of rage will fix the problem. It's all going to rely on his own hard work, is all– it’s not like he has minions or underlings or even servants to command anymore. He'll just need to work over time to achieve his goals. Just like he did before he had the Crown.

Continue on AO3

#danny phantom #invisobang #danny phantom fanfic #pariah dark #phanfic #my fic #dantes vibe corner

60 notes · View notes

thecreaturecodex · 2 years

Text

Primordial, Ogrémoch

Image © Wizards of the Coast

[Commissioned by @tar-baphon. Of the various demigods I’ve statted up, Ogrémoch is the one with the oldest pedigree, having first appeared in the AD&D Fiend Folio in 1981 as one of the Princes of Elemental Evil. I remember seeing that title as a child (in the AD&D 2e Monstrous Manual, which didn’t explain the context) and being fascinated. As is fitting for a creature that has appeared in all five numbered editions of D&D, I wanted to incorporate a little bit from each. I gave Ogrémoch 24 hit dice because he strikes as a 24 HD creature in 1e, and some of the spell-like abilities come from the 2e Planescape Monstrous Compendium III. Ogrémoch got stats in 3rd edition only through Dragon Magazine, and that article had the most flavor about his personality and greed, which I followed up on here. The 4e version provides the art and the jagged earth aura ability (and is where he picked up the accent mark, BTW), and the 5e version has a faerie fire like ability and rock throwing, which I combined into one attack in mine.]

Primordial, Ogrémoch CR 21 NE Outsider (elemental) This creature appears to be a humanoid hill, more than fifty feet tall. Its body is studded with green crystals, two of which are set over a gaping maw as if they were eyes.

Miser of the Black Earth, the Mountain That Walks NE Primordial Elemental Portfolio endurance, gemstones, greed Domains Destruction, Earth, Evil, Strength Subdomains Caves, Greed*, Hatred, Resolve Worshipers gargoyles, stone giants, subterranean humanoids Minions carnivorous crystals, evil earth and magma elementals, magma dragons Obedience spend 1 hour counting and cataloguing your precious stones. During this time, ruminate on those that have wronged you. Gain a +2 profane bonus to your CMD. Boons 1: soften earth and stone 2/day; 2: spike stones 2/day; 3: wall of stone 2/day

Ogrémoch is the Miser of the Black Earth, a powerful primordial elemental who covets all of the fine things in the earth and hates those who would claim them. He is especially protective of gemstones, and views all of the gems in existence as being his personal property. His worshipers may keep them, knowing that this is on a temporary basis, and that they will be taken by Ogrémoch whenever he sees fit. Obviously this universal ownership is a delusion of the highest order, but it does not stop Ogrémoch and his followers from collapsing mines, stealing precious stones and killing those that would dare to possess such treasures.

Ogrémoch is an overwhelming physical combatant, striking with outsized fists or simply trampling enemies beneath his feet. If enemies keep their distance or use magic to conceal themselves, he can fling crystals from his body that explode and coat the survivors in glimmering light. Ogrémoch is capable of casting powerful spells as well, shaping the battlefield to his advantage or petrifying especially interesting-looking enemies to claim them as trophies. If the tide of battle turns against him, or if he is bored by his opponents, he summons elementals or a magma dragon to aid him. Despite his size and physical appearance, Ogrémoch is a patient schemer, and would rather flee a combat to plot revenge than fight to the death.

Ogrémoch’s fortress is a massive plateau in the Plane of Earth called Stonemire. Stonemire rises over a scorching hot plain that abuts the Plane of Fire, and magma elementals, thoqquas and other such creatures are commonly his subjects. Ogrémoch counts among his allies the pit fiend Jazra, who is slowly attempting to urge Ogrémoch to embrace law and shift alignment. Ogrémoch plays at being a good vassal to Ayrzul, the Fossilized King, but both of them know that the Mountain That Walks desires control of all of the Plane of Earth in the long run.

Ogrémoch CR 21 XP 409,600 NE Colossal outsider (earth, evil, extraplanar) Init +7; Senses darkvision 120 ft., detect good, detect magic, Perception +31, see invisibility, tremorsense 120 ft. Aura jagged earth (30 feet, 6d6, Reflex DC 28) Defense AC 40, touch 11, flat-footed 37 (-8 size, +3 Dex, +6 insight, +29 natural) hp 396 (24d10+264); regeneration 10 (epic or sonic) Fort +19, Ref +17, Will +20 DR 20/epic; Immune ability damage, ability drain, charm, compulsion, death effects, elemental traits, fear, fire, petrifaction; Resist cold 20, electricity 20; SR 32 Offense Speed 50 ft., burrow 50 ft. (earth glide) Melee 2 slams +32 (5d10+16/19-20 plus push) Space 30 ft.; Reach 30 ft. Special Attacks crystal throw, morphic strikes, overwhelming trample, push (10 ft.), trample (Ref DC 38, 5d10+24) Spell-like Abilities CL 21st, concentration +27 Constant—detect good, detect magic, see invisibility At will—dispel magic, greater teleport, soften earth and stone, spike stones (DC 20), stone shape, transmute mud to rock, transmute rock to mud, wall of stone 3/day—earthquake, quickened flesh to stone (DC 22), move earth, stone tell, telekinesis (DC 21) 1/day—freedom, imprisonment, summon (9th level, 3 elder earth elementals or one ancient magma dragon, 100%), unholy aura (DC 24) Statistics Str 42, Dex 16, Con 33, Int 20, Wis 23, Cha 23 Base Atk +24; CMB +48 (+50 bull rush, +52 sunder); CMD 61 (+63 bull rush, sunder) Feats Blind-fight, Critical Focus, Greater Sunder, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Critical (slam), Improved Initiative, Improved Sunder, Intimidating Prowess, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (flesh to stone), Staggering Critical, Stunning Critical Skills Appraise +30, Diplomacy +28, Intimidate +47, Knowledge (arcana, nature, religion) +27, Knowledge (dungeoneering, planes) +30, Perception +31, Sense Motive +31, Spellcraft +27, Survival +31 Languages Abyssal, Common, Infernal, Terran, Undercommon, telepathy 100 ft. SQ earth mastery, earth walker, primordial elemental traits Ecology Environment any (Plane of Earth) Organization unique Treasure triple standard Special Abilities Crystal Throw (Su) As a standard action that does not provoke attacks of opportunity, Ogrémoch can tear a shard of crystal from his body and hurl it up to 300 feet. It explodes at its destination, dealing 24d6 points of bludgeoning and piercing damage to all creatures in a 20 foot radius (Reflex DC 33 half). This overcomes damage reduction as if it were silver, cold iron and adamantine. Creatures that take damage are limned in luminous crystalline dust, acting as a faerie fire spell, for 1 minute. The save DC is Constitution based. Earth Mastery (Ex) Ogrémoch gains a +2 bonus on attack and damage rolls if both he and his opponent are touching the ground. If an opponent is airborne or waterborne, Ogrémoch gains a -4 penalty on attack and damage rolls. Earth Walker (Ex) Ogrémoch ignores all difficult terrain and damage from mundane or magical earth or stone. Jagged Earth Aura (Su) The ground within 30 feet of Ogrémoch is difficult terrain. Any creature entering or moving through this area must succeed a DC 28 Reflex save or take 5d6 points of slashing damage and have their speed reduced by half for the next 24 hours or until they receive magical healing. Creatures with the earth subtype ignore this aura, and Ogrémoch can activate or deactivate it as a move action. The save DC is Charisma based. Morphic Strikes (Ex) Ogrémoch’s natural weapons overcome damage reduction as if they were silver, cold iron and adamantine. As a swift action, Ogrémoch can change the type of damage his slams deal to piercing or slashing, or back to bludgeoning. Overwhelming Trample (Ex) A creature that takes damage from Ogrémoch’s trample attack must succeed an additional DC 38 Reflex save or fall prone. Primordial Elemental Traits (Ex/Su) Ogrémoch is a primordial elemental, a powerful unique creature similar in power to a nascent demon lord. A primordial elemental has the following traits:

DR/epic

regeneration (epic or a thematically appropriate element)

immune to ability damage and drain, charm and compulsion effects, death effects and petrifaction

summon 1/day of 3 elder elementals or 1 thematically appropriate monster of CR 19 or less

a primordial elemental can grant spells to worshipers. It gains four domains and four subdomains

#D&D #pathfinder 1e #fiend folio #commissions #demigod #elemental #ogremoch #ogrémoch

64 notes · View notes

nexility-sims · 2 years

Text

𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞 (1885-2040).

an ode to my hands-down favorite characters, the heart and soul of my story, and worldbuilding ! did being The Worst™️ skip two generations, or have i just ignored beatriz's children? questions that doing a part v would answer ... anyway, citing my sources: my story description, this scene, the bible & trainspotting (1996), nahuatl, that generations statue post alyssa did, and the road to el dorado concept art.

TRANSCRIPT:

[VO] Once, political struggles in Uspana proved the monarchy is only as permanent as the People choose to make it.

[VO] The Reyes family, however, is forever.

[VO] As a clan, they laid claim to the black jaguar for its rarity and symbolism of the traits they value most: vigilance, valor, ferocity.

[VO] They tell the story of a man called the Hunter who, in the face of danger embodied these traits and made Uspana’s ancestors into the People.

[VO] They would call him a king. They also called him a people-eater.

[VO] He became, or perhaps always was, a carnivore—one who feeds on the flesh of enemies and builds power atop the bones. So, too, was Canarís.

[VO] Their descendants saw the figure of their chosen beast in the epithet and made it their own as well.

[VO] Not every Reyes is born a people-eater.

[VO] Nor is every people-eater born a Reyes.

[VO] They are one of a kind, even within the House of Tecuani.

[VO] These are the ones who—in a game of life or death, power or destruction—choose life for themselves.

[VO] They choose power like breathing air.

[VO] They play the game well and only occasionally overplay their hand.

[VO] The House of Tecuani is like any ancient dynasty: it rests upon a past both tumultuous and romantic. Its story is one of family and tradition, of relations and blood, of a place where time is a circle.

[VO] The family has carried the Crown for centuries with an understanding people-eaters know as a matter of instinct: we must be beloved, or we must be brutal, and it is better to be both.

[VO] “History is not past,” those who belong to the family like to say.

[VO] It lives with them, and its ghosts whisper to their heirs:

[VO] Choose life. Choose power.

#this is purely self indulgent #ignore the static chess board lmaoooo #ch.baltasar #ch.zurine #ch.beatriz #ch.leonor #ch.rui #reyes.outtake.2

83 notes · View notes

king-carnivore-creations · 8 months

Text

New art for fall/halloween!

#art #my art #digital art #illustration #halloween theme #halloween pfp #king carnivore art #king carnivore persona

9 notes · View notes

pinkykats-place · 1 year

Text

BakuDeku SFW hybrid au

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

Fluff/SFW stories, pls still read tags.

Credit to @minggchoww for the fan art.

Note: If you read any of these and like them please kudos and comment! Let the authors know their work is appreciated!

🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾

blame it all on human nature by starryroyalty

Summary: Katsuki's interest keeps getting piqued by the pretty green cat that consistently sits at the same table every single time he enters the café, and he really, really, wants to get to know him better.

Wolf Baku x Cat Deku

One Shot | No Quirks AU

Beyond the Fence by AnathemaAuthoress

Summary: Domesticated dog hybrid Izuku has lived happily with his master without ever questioning the world beyond his fence, but when he meets a wild raccoon named Katsuki, he finds he wants to hear all about it.

Dog Deku x Raccoon Baku

One Shot | No Quirks AU

The Wolf and The Bunnies by Mikacrispy

Summary: Every day after leaving class, Katsuki passes by a playground and sees an omega bunny playing around with his son. The wolf can't help but fall in love with both of them.

Wolf Baku x Bunny Deku

One Shot | No Quirks AU

Oh Deer! by Arsonxk

Summary: His mother always warned him that his bleeding heart would get him in trouble. Izuku just didn't plan on it being in the form of a blonde mountain lion…

Deer Deku X Mountain Lion Baku

One Shot | No Quirks au

Sheep in Wolf's Clothing I by Mikacrispy

Summary: Ram hybrid Midoriya Izuku, tired of being overlooked at his work for being a prey hybrid, decides to take on boxing classes to become more assertive and carnivore-like. There he meets the handsome and grumpy wolf hybrid instructor who loves to bully him.

Ram Deku x Wolf Baku

One Shot | Part 1 of a Two Part Series

Lady And The Tramp by jaegerackereri

Summary: Work inspired by Lady And The Tramp (1955) where Izuku is Lady and Katsuki is Tramp.

Dog Deku x Wolf-Dog Baku

Mature Themes | No Explicit Scenes

One Shot | No Quirks au

The Dragon King by qween_bee

Summary: After old King Yagi's passing, the kingdom of Musutafu was left to dragon hybrid Bakugou Katsuki. However, without the soft presence of his soulmate to keep him kind, the alpha's aggression went unchecked. They say it's not about the destination but rather the journey, but in this case, both have their merits.

Dragon Hybrids

Alpha Baku x Omega Deku

One Shot | Fantasy au

Licking your loved ones by Gay_idiot15

Summary: It was common in packs to engage in physical affection; scenting, cuddling, hugging, holding hands

But licking was a sign of true friendship and love.

Cat Hybrid Deku x Cat Hybrid Baku

One Shot | UA Students

Say My Name Nerd by DemonyteKav

Summary: “Hey Mido! I got a question for ya.” The blonde cheetah hybrid tells him during a lull between games.

Izuku smiles. “What’s up?”

“How come you never called Bakubro over here by his last name?”

“What do you mean?” Izuku asks flushing a little and glancing at the blonde wolf before looking back at Kaminari.

Kaminari scratches his nose and grins a little. “Well dude, you knew him for what? A couple days and were already calling him ‘Kacchan’ so I was just curious is all. I mean, he doesn’t even let us call him by his first name often.”

The wolf looks every bit like the predator he is. Tail wagging lazily behind him pleased to have his prey right where he wants him. “Yeah nerd, why don’t you call me by my last name?”

“You know why Kacchan.” The sheep pouts crossing his arms over his chest.

Wolf Baku x Sheep Deku

One Shot | No Quirks | College AU

Wolf Gym by Oh_Taco

Summary: After facing discrimination by humans, hybrid rabbit and personal trainer Izuku Midoriya looks for a job at a hybrid gym. The only one he finds is run by three wolf hybrids -- and one of them looks like he wants to eat Izuku for lunch!

Incomplete | 16/? Chapters

Just Beyond the Door by Askora

Summary: Bakugo never got along with people all that well. Or rather, people wouldn’t be able to look past his harsh overtones to realize that he wasn’t actually as bad as a guy as they thought. Specifically, his annoying ass neighbors that would constantly complain to the landlord or try to get police to do something about him.

So in order to play “nice guy”, the idiots suggested he put a candy bowl outside his apartment door.

Apparently said candy bowl attracted the attention of someone Bakugo found was absolutely meant for him. And said soulmate was far more in reach than the blond thought he was.

Pro Hero Baku x Quirkless Deku

Omega Deer Deku x Alpha Wolf Baku

7/? CH | Last Updated Dec. 2023

46 notes · View notes

bogbiter · 10 months

Text

League of Legends Concept: The Hive

I admittedly had the hardest time getting into the hive. To me it wasn't anything particularly new. Tropey and without exploration of anything deeper. Than fucking Oryx in the Taken King came out, and by god that changed my view. These savage insectoid marauders who love violence because it keeps them going, and how their greatest gods could replace people with superior, weaponized versions of themselves in life. Then came Savathun, and the tragedy of her species became realized. Pawns to an intimately twisted pact made out of the desperate grief of three frail siblings. And despite the witch queen's change of heart towards the traveler, the antithesis to the darkness, she still could only demonstrate cruelty and relentless slaughter. Xivu Arath herself is now some grieving, mad god serving the witness after the death of her most loved brother, and the betrayal of her sister.

Since I have covered eliksni/scorn, cabal, and vex(yet to be released), it would be unfair to leave them out. So, taking a throwaway name in the current Runeterra lore, I created a story mirroring the rise of Xivu Arath, Oryx, and Savathun, enjoy! ----

The word "Raylu", in the ancient tongue of the Vastayan… meant carnivorous or ever smiling. And for as long as the standing empires have known, they Vaylu were always ravenous creatures of the open seas and the deep below. Synonymous with death, synonymous with war, synonymous with deception. Yet as is for all life, it wasn't always this way. It is never so simple as to be born cruel. The Vaylu after all we're not demons, born from the ire of life. They were a people, found below the tumultuous sea along the continental shelves, where the light penetrates the surface of the waves and finds itself opaque

This enigmatic species of Vastayan, resembling their maria cousins, though with armored arms, legs, head, and a blade-like telson. Even at their time, they looked ancient, perfectly suited for a life of hardship. For indeed existence was harsh for the Raylu. Their Ocean had become stained with magics, and the skies above their home were eternally stormy: as rain fell sharp into the waves and lightning had enough power to vaporize anyone it struck. Great Fish and Beasts would prey on the populace, and for a time the Raylu frequently warred with each other. Yet for a century peace reigned, and in this there was a Raylu born named Sünalt, whose journey would shape the fate of her people forever.

In this time she learned to be cunning, fixing up traps to snare prey, and most importantly, who to tell was friend or foe. Not every Raylu she encountered was an ally, and not every Marai found was kind. But not every human crossing overhead was without use. She learned the most valuable aspect of cunning:

Observation.

Sünalt spent her days observing the comings and goings of the creatures that roamed the ocean depths. She would watch from the shadows as schools of fish danced in intricate patterns, evading the hungry jaws of greater beasts. She marveled at the way the Marai moved with grace, their bioluminescent markings lighting up the dark waters and their flowing fins like the gowns of a dress. She even observed the humans from afar, studying their technology and their creeds. She developed a talent for blending in with her environment, mastering the art of deception and camouflage. As she reached adulthood, her skills had surpassed those of her peers, and soon many seeked her as a sort of guide. She played up to it, claiming she accessed forces deeper than what could be felt or seen. That great serpents below the plates of the earth slumbered, and whispered into her ear what was to them, petty trivia. The Raylu could believe it, stranger things did occur, and her estimations and instructions always seemed to be on point.

She learned being able to read people and patterns was a step above magic. It gave her certainty, where spells could falter, people rarely changed their character.

With each passing day, Sünalt's curiosity and thirst for knowledge grew. She sought to understand the balance of the ocean, the ebb and flow of life, and the intricate connections between the different species. Her elders warned her against meddling in the affairs of others, but Sünalt couldn't help herself. She yearned to explore the world beyond the murky depths of her home. The stories of creatures above the surface, of the vast lands, and the strange beings that roamed there intrigued her. She longed to see the surface and uncover its secrets. She knew that the world above was full of dangers, just like the ocean's depths, but she also believed that there must be opportunities for her people to thrive beyond their current circumstances. She wanted to learn, to adapt, to survive.

Existence couldn't just be the struggle to exist.

And yet the fates soon came to reinforce this belief, forher people would be attacked within their very waking minds. A few of their own mages, especially those most esteemed, had terrible visions of a cataclysm. Of a Runeterra that would devour itself alive from within the deep. For below them, disaster existed. These visions were palpable, utterly maddening and exhausting. It's as if the words themselves were a viral code, and upon recognizing the cataclysm the will to care. It all returned in their visions to what they perceived to be a barren sea bar, baking under a now blood red sun. When many came to look for Sünalt, they instead found her missing. She was hiding, and she remained still as they prattled on about this end that had overcome their people. She had seated herself into a position of otherworldly wisdom, and so now that all other sources of knowledge had been debilitated, they seeked her.

The tale was exceptionally spur to her tongue, and at first she was puzzled. Unwilling to let herself see it as the end, she constantly called it by a new moniker: "The Next Shape". One stormy night, when the lightning arced across the sky with wild abandon, and the waves crashed against the Raylu's underwater home, Sünalt had come to a conclusion. She gathered her most trusted companions, those she knew she could rely on, and shared her vision with them. That the mages were only seeing part of a greater prophecy, and that to see how to avoid annihilation, they would have to cross Shurima to their destination. She proposed she lead an expedition to the surface world, and there they will see how all will fall into place. Many were skeptical, fearing the dangers that awaited them, but Sünalt's charisma and her undeniable intelligence swayed them to her side.

Her crew comprised mostly of her best friends. Among them was the most sheltered of them, Heshstar, a warrior who had seen no battle. Xez'Karo, who hid her form in a cloak so none may see her frailty. Kronut, the youngest and shyest of the mages. But then came Ahtal'Xul, her detractor, a survivalist who more so just wished to die on the trip to find something of his caliber. He cared little for the prophecy, being among the oldest he saw Sünalt's rise among her peers. And viewed the journey as just a way for her to abandon ship.

Which was not entirely untrue.

Though the group was by no means a legion, the madness and fatigue overwhelming their people was sure enough cause to at least push forward, and they began their ascent towards the surface. The journey was perilous, facing fierce currents and powerful sea creatures, but Sünalt's wit and tenacity saw them through. It was a perilous swim, but as they broke the surface of coastal waves, the world above greeted them with blinding sunlight and open skies. For the first time in their lives, they saw the vast expanse of the world beyond the ocean's edge. Now came the hard part: Voyaging onto land.

Sünalt pointed to the many life available to their disposal, and suggested that she create them suits of flesh and carapace from the coastal life. And so they hunted and slaughtered crustacean, mollusk, and pulled from the sands many flora in which Sünalt, having experienced similar organisms, began to shape. She filled the interior with absorbent plants. And as they put the suits on in the water, it seemed like the flora had found purchase on their carrion gear, and kept their skin wet. From there they trekked inwards into a brave, new world.

The surface world was vastly different from the depths of the ocean they called home. The lack of movement they had now, and the lack of a blanketing pressure beyond that of the corpse armor on their bodies, was alien. The light was so bright, and it was an issue they had barely been able to adapt to in the shallows. Many nights they slept in shallow pools along the flowing rivers of the coastal rainforest. And in those many nights, the dreams had come to them now. Now they were clearer than what the mages had detailed. And now Sünalt was confronted by them.

And they were giving her answers. They spoke to her now as an infinite plane of sand,which she stumbled through with little strength. She was alone, amidst a sea of voices of dust.

"Most cunning of her kin, you seek to end cataclysm?"

"There is no other option, I take the visions as death, they become death. And my kin will die."

"Then, the most cunning of her kin, do not venture to the sands. Venture to the wastes, where we may grant you power to avoid dying."

"But the Waste… we've heard of those lands. The void will devour us."

"Then wear our mark… and they will ignore you. But it's cultists are sharp tongued and spear-fanged. Kill them, should you see them. Blood is necessary to spill, for you and your friends to grow."

The mark was of a Pyramid, with a crowned rhombus bearing 3 circles below the crown as if eyes. If was the old mark of her kin's ancestral kingdoms, those warring hordes and courts. As soon as she realized this, Sünalt awoke with a startle, and could not sleep. She remembered the symbol, it was hard not to. It was hard not to remember their words. So she went to the river and looked for the finest mud. The freshwater made her feel heavy, and tired. And the flowing water seemed only to make her catigue grow. So she took from a stick and dragged great swathes of it to shore. It dried on the stick and created a fine white chalk… the perfect marking clay. And she painted the symbol onto her friend's foreheads, even the most bitter Ahtal'Xul. Though it would be Heshstar and Kronut who would debate with her. Heshstar did not like being marked, even for his own good, and was made aware that she had used the old sigil upon his crown. Kronut instead debated if these were just self fulfilling prophecies. For his clarity saw them voyage to jagged rocks now, instead of endless sands. Sünalt however, lightened up at the mentioning of the sharp rocks, and told them that the marks were indeed to keep them safe, for salvation was locked behind the borders of the Wastelands. And that "her trusted friends" told her how. He asked them if they were the Leviathans, like Nagadilotep, she tried so deseperately to appease to. And she claimed they were older, wiser, and unlike the leviathans… very much alive.

And that they had tols her to seek Icathia.

And so, the group of intrepid Raylu adventurers ventured forth from the coastal jungle, following the freshwater tillit dried, and the earth had the hue of wet ash. Sünalt led the way, her keen guiding them through the unforgiving landscapes of torn rock and infected crust. As they delved deeper into the Wastelands, they noted hoe much drier it was, and for many like Xez'Karo, it was suffocating. Sünalt and Heshstar eventually found safety under a peak, rainwater seemingly brought forth by the seas had soaked the stones created a wet, cold cave below its jaggrd peaks. Sünalt's fatigue was obvious, and she went to rest as soon as hwr shoulder founs purchase against the cave wall.

She was given yet another vision, and this time, in the vision, all her friends and Ahtal'Xul were present, and the voices told them they would send them several followers of the void, and pit them against the frail, exhausted Vaylu. Their rewards for winning, would outshine the rewards for the followers.

To save the world, a blade was required.

As they woke up they saw people in robes approaching the cave, the moon unable to pierce the thick clouds of the night. But a time among the deep had given them incredible sight, and as they figured entered their color-periphery, their features were more discernable. The lilac-robed figures emerged from the darkness, their movements eerie and unsettling. Their faces were obscured by hoods, and they seemed almost ethereal as they glided closer to the Raylu group. Sünalt's heart pounded in her chest, but she knew that hesitation would only lead to more trouble. She noticed the glint of metal concealed beneath their robes—a telltale sign of their intent. She needed to act quickly.

As the Lilac-robed figures drew nearer, Sünalt stepped forward, her hand resting on the hilt of a blade sheathed at her side. She greeted the strangers with an air of authority, her other hand outstretched towards them as if to warn them not to move any closer.

"Halt! State your purpose in the Hollowed Lands."

The Lilac followers hesitated, seemingly taken aback by Sünalt's boldness. Barring one, a woman of robust build, who spoke to Sünalt in a soft, hissing voice.

"We come in search of those who seek salvation, Are you one of them?"

Sünalt grinned, motioning with her tail to the others in the cave that this, this was the moment they had been warned of. Sünalt addressed the cultist yet again, her eyes practically starry with anticipation.

"We in fact, are famished. And tired. But we are here to inherit a blessing. It should arrive any second."

The followers seemed uninterested by her response, their hooded heads unwavering. They began to approach the cave cautiously, as if gauging the sincerity of her words. At that moment she looked back to the larger woman before her, and ducked, as Kronut fired forth a blast of raw magic at the cultists chest, causing her to double back. Heshstar and Ahtal'Xul immediately ran forward, their own blades positioned as they ran forward with brutish abandon. The cultist were swift, but not fast enough. Heshtar was tired, but they had always been strong enough to take the blows. And Ahtal'Xul was reeling for this the whole voyage, and despite cleaver not being meant to pierce, drove it through his opponent's guts. Xez'Karo would turn to see Sünalt attempting to stand back up, only for a powerful blow from the larger robes figure to send her back to the ground. Xez'Karo snarled, and immediately lunged out the cave to qrap their cloak around the woman's face. This did little, as the larger woman simply grabbed Xez'Karo from the arm, and threw her down hard, the smaller Raylu yelping in pain. But the woman was not observant of the movement Sünalt pulled, where she drove her blade deep down into the woman's arm, and sliced it diagonally to her wrist. The cultist howled in pain, as Sünalt grabbed Xez'Karo and slinked back into the cave. Kronut focused his ingitaru magic on the woman's open wound, causing her to be paralyzed in place from the pain.

Heshstar finally landed a blog against his enemy, rewarding his fatigued self as the blow was strong enough to send the robed figure into all the cardinal directions, a purple pile of clothes stained in viscera. Ahtal'Xul had downed many, roaring into the sky as he dove his cleaver into the back of the yowling woman, who tried to elbow him away. Giving time for Sünalt to strike her in the head with a great stone, and silence her. The skirmish had been quick and brutal, but now they could rest. Except… the voice came again.

And asked them to eat.

Sünalt was stunned. She had expected a bit more fanfare. Perhaps they hadn't made it a game? A show of it? She checked Xez'Karo, who was suffering from a cracked shoulder, writhing silently in pain. Sünalt cradled her close, before looking at the carrion from Heshstar's blow. The voices asked why she had not begun to eat, and as Sünalt was about ready to speak, Heshstar took up the gristle and showed it to Sünalt.

"I will eat the mangled core… she may eat the limbs… your leviathans are… crude. We eat our enemies now? That's how we stop the end?"

Sünalt looked confused, though when Heshstar threw her the limb, she handed it to Xez'Karo, looking down at her friend as they followed everyone else's directions, and sunk her teeth deep into the arm flesh, Sünalt watching. Before she finally spoke up, her voice sounded the tiniest bit aged from those 40 seconds of combat.

"Existence… is the struggle to exist… is it not?"

As Sünalt watched her friends consume the flesh of their fallen enemies, a mix of emotions washed over her.The voices in her visions had been right; to save her people, they needed power, and that the voices promised power through gorging on the fallen. It was a twisted truth, but one she couldn't ignore.

Gathering her courage, Sünalt reached for the limb and took a small bite. The taste was metallic, the texture unpleasant, but she pushed aside her repulsion and chewed. As she did, a strange energy seemed to surge through her body, filling her with newfound strength and vigor. It was as if the essence of her fallen foe was becoming a part of her, empowering her beyond her normal capabilities. And among such, was no longer the need for water. Fatigue was absent, and soon she bit more into the remains, alongside the rest of her kin

----

Every kill made was done to sharpen the knife. She gained the same magic the cultist projected upon her. Great Sai beast ignored her, tunneling through the earth; they simply passed by her with total indifference. Great centipede beast with canine jaws scuttled past her and her group not with total indifference, but familiarity. Amethyst moths with draping wings and crushing mandibles flew around the group like scavenger birds, waiting for the next onslaught, for the Raylu group adopted this grisly ritual of eating rival cultists, knowing that it granted them an advantage in the Wastelands. The voices in their visions guided them further, leading them towards an ancient ruin that held the key to the salvation they sought. Feeding on the void's followers, engaging in more battles that tested their strength and cunning.

The voices warned them the cataclysm drew closer, and that they must find the sunken pyramids. That once they could glimpse the old ruins of Icathia, they must plunge themselves into the darkest hole they could find, and there the voices would bestow them the power to change their kind's history, and help them avoid the great dying.

Their encounters with the void's followers became more frequent, and they embraced their role as hunters, using the harnessed powers of the void worshippers to strike down those who posed a threat to them and their mission. Each cultist they defeated brought them closer to their ultimate goal—the salvation of their people and the prevention of the cataclysm that loomed over the world. The first month of jungle travel was now eclipsed by the two years of wild voyaging. Of jagged lightning nights and muddled, golden days, these forays into ancient wrecks and dagger-shimmering flights from monsters in robes: these had been the happiest times of their life.

Save for Sünalt And this was palpable to Xez’Karo and Heshstar. After having eaten seven more of their enemies, gathered around a makeshift camp-flame, Xez’Karo confronted the tired looking oracle that had brought them here.

“Sünalt, pensive one, what is it? What troubles you?”

Sünalt could do nothing but gaze from the fire back to the others, getting the attention of Kronut and Ahtal’Xul, before speaking with a worn, tired throat.

“Oath-bearing friends, we are two years into this journey. For two years we’ve worked to understand the visions, and now that we have eaten our enemies shouldn’t it be clearer? I am certain our people are ill, and the visions which started this only give us directions, not answers.”

We five will die here, in exile. The visions will outlive us. We sit too often I feel, but even though we always succeed in our hunts, and we need not drink, I am famished, and I still have found any way to stop our end.”

The other four looked at each other, concern creeping over their expressions. Kronut grit their tooth-plates together, groaning back to the others. “I wish you weren’t so honest…”

Heshstar thought that Sünalt had never been wrong, and her diagnosis was apt to their situation. Xez’Karo snapped and threw the arm bone of a cultist to the ground. “We followed you! Now you say it is for naught!?” Sünalt immediately stood up, looking back at the frail friend of hers: “I’m saying we are running out of time. Not that all is lost… But it is beginning to feel that way.”

Only for Heshstar to speak, raising themselves up to face the others.

“We have to dive, that's what the voices say to do. Dive into the earth, the world below us... towards the leviathans.”

Ahtal’Xul immediately spoke up on the preposition, slamming his cleaver’s broadside to his armored chest.

“But we must find the ruins first, we must find the pyramids sunken into the earth, as the leviathans of Sünalt said, or are their words malleable?”

Sünalt instead, took her hand to her chest, and spoke up to the group as a whole, collected and firm.

“We have to dive,in the world beneath us, in the infected depths, I hope we may find what we need most...”

More time. More life.

----

The blade that seeks to understand, is a follower. A tool for greater things. They found a cavern, forged obviously not of runeterra metals, as it shimmered like a cold star, with the sheen and texture of both silver. They traveled beyond its maw, and deep, deeper into the earth, where light was not something luminous and like a blanket, nor fleeting and wisp like their abyss. No, light here was tangible, given shape and not allowed to pass that shape. And there, they found steps. Steps carved for people, yet they had seemingly never been worn. No voices greeted them, no fanfare. Nothing. Just darkness, darkness so devoid of light and shape that they felt bumbling blind for the first time in years. Sound traveled little, and so their whispers carried no definition or texture. Truly, they were alone. Until finally, a voice beckoned them forth from deep in the cavern: “OUR GUESTS! MOVE! MOVE LIKE THE BLADES THROUGH FLESH AND ARTERY YOU WIELDED NOT BUT A FEW DAYS PRIOR!”

Sünalt took off down to the base of the stairs, panting with newfound purpose, blade drawn just in case it was of rival cultists seeking to entrap them. A life of murder was preferable to one without sensation. She could tell her friends were behind her too, and this was almost as cathartic as feeling the pressure grow heavier, and the air tingle with static charge. At the bottom of the steps, the Raylu group found themselves in a vast underground chamber, illuminated by a soft, eerie glow. The source of the light was unclear, but it seemed to emanate from the very walls of the cavern, casting strange shadows that danced and writhed across the floor.

In the center of the chamber, they saw an enormous and grotesque set of creatures. They were great worms, much larger than any they had ever encountered, covered with segmented plates and numerous spines. Their heads were of a simple tetrahedral shape, broken up by lines of yellow-orange lights, which when the beast opened up their maws revealed six barbed mandibles. They moved through the solid floor, which constantly rippled and shifted seemingly as if it were sand. The worms' presence was overpowering, and their voice resonated in the minds of the Raylu like a haunting echo, reverberating their flesh and chitin alike.

"Welcome, seekers of power, you have come seeking salvation. You stand on the naked hull of an ancient city. You stand exposed to the crushing pressure and ferocious heat of the deeper Runeterra. It should annihilate you. It is by our combined will, you too, Vaylu brood, that you survive.”

Stunned at first, they began to recompose themselves when facing these beasts, which now were only the heads and trunklike bodies looking down upon them. Sünalt's eyes narrowed as she spoke, her voice steady despite the foreboding presence before them.

“We seek to save our people from the cataclysm that threatens to consume us. We came to you, seeking your voices, for this promise. What ritual do you seek now? Has our voyage and slaughter not been enough?."

The great worms let out a low, rumbling laugh that seemed to shake the very earth beneath their feet. "You misunderstand. Behold your voyage. Now behold your strength, your seasoned blades. Now behold my great and coiling length, my folded jaws and impenetrable carapace. Behold the earth symbiotic with my flesh. I have not summoned you to devour, I merely summoned you to inherit."

Ahtal'Xul growled, his skepticism evident in his tone. For there was now uncertainty of their required presence.

"Then this is to parlay? What is the price we must pay for your court?" The worms responded, their voice echoing through their tooth-plates down to their telson.

"For time uncountable, we have been patient in the Deep Earth. From across the sun-orbiting globe, we have called life to Icathia, so that it might contend against extinction. For millennia We have awaited you... our beloved hosts."

Sünalt exchanged glances with her friends. They knew the dangers of making a pact, especially with such entities, and they understood that the consequences could be dire. Yet the worms continued to speak. “Against you stand the cruel Leviathans, The Evermoving, and all the forces of the Celestials. They would crush you down into the dark. They have arranged their sun and moon to drown you, in fear of your potential. We want to help you, forgotten Vastaya. We offer to each of you a bargain... a symbiosis.”

Taking a step forward, Sünalt spoke back to the great worms.

"We will not be your mindless servants, but I may bow my carapaced crest to you, should you give us your conditions.."

The worms surrounding the central one opened their maws wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth that glistened in the eerie light. Suddenly, a torrent of void energy, burning orange and coldest violet, surged forth from their jaws, swirling and coiling like a malevolent storm. Sünalt and her friends braced themselves, only for the flames to create a veil between them, and the rest of the chamber, as the greatest worm still looked down upon them. The energy was both intoxicating and terrifying, threatening to overwhelm their senses. Yet they held their ground, as the great worm spoke:

“Take into your bodies our blood, our vital truth From them you shall obtain eternal life. From them you shall gain power over your own fragile flesh: the power to make of it as you will. And should you find an imperfection in the world, an injustice or an inconvenience — you will have the power to repair it. Let no mere law bind you.

We ask two things in exchange.

You must obey your nature forever. In your immortality, Kronut, you may never cease to explore and inquire, for the sake of your kin. In your immortality, Xez’Karo, you may never cease to test your strength. In your immortality, Heshstar, you must never stop your duty as warrior, and must always face a killing blow. In your immortality, Ahtal’Xul, you must never back down from a challenge. And in your immortality, Sünalt, you may never abandon cunning. For you are now agents of The Empress, who wishes to reshape this world and end cataclysm. To deny your nature, the blood you ingest will consume you. And as your power grows, oh sovereigns, so will the weight of your blood.”

Sünalt hesitated, looking up at the great worms, and shuddered at the thought of denying this chance. Was her life, her comfort, more valuable than the weight of Runeterra’s demise. She thought not. With conviction in her voice, she finally spoke.

"We swear our loyalty to The Empress, O Great Worm. Grant us your power, and we shall serve you to the best of our abilities."

As the words left her lips, a cut appeared on the worm,, shimmering blood black as tar falling down its form. The great worm acknowledged their oath with a nod. "Go forth, seekers of power, cup your hands and take our blood as vassals. The void shall be your ally, and you shall save Runeterra from ruin.

For you are now synonymous with death, and control.”

----

"I don't have a strict proof yet, you know. This thing we believe — that we're liberating the world by devouring it, that we're cutting out the rot, that we're on course to join the final shape — I haven't found a strict, eternal proof. We might yet be wrong."

Sünalt looked from her home, her new throne south of The Shadow Isles, observing the thick mist that clung to it from a perch-stone. Fins like the wings of a lunar moth draped around her like a royal cloak, her crown like a hammerhead’s own skull, as piercing green eyes burned within her. To her side, a confused Vaylu drone looked from her to the mist, scratching their head with hooked, carnivorous talons.

“...perhaps I need a new look at it all. Do you think Viego would mind some… visitation?”

The drone shrugged, looking at itself and her repeatedly before hissing something out, Sünalt raising her hand to cease her servant’s tongue. “I know we can’t truly devour them. But I believe we can still make friends with prey.”

----

Passive - By the Blade's End: Sünalt gains health back on the first spell she deals damage with. If she is already at full health, then she gains a temporary shield. Additionally, when an enemy champion dies nearby, she gains a cool down boost to her abilities and passive.

Q- A Dirge: Sünalt unleashes barrages of void-infused projectiles in a targeted area, damaging all enemies within range. The blasts deal increased damage based on the target's missing health

W- Binding The Elements: Sünalt creates arcs or energy, the first moving left as lightning which does ap damage and knocks the enemy into the air. The next one appears as a line of frost which slows the enemy and grounds them.

E - So I May Drown in the Deep: Sünalt reaches out with her hand, creating a void-infused grasp that damages and immobilizes a single enemy champion. The enemy champion is dealt Damage Over Time during the stun and afterwards for 0.4-2 seconds(increases as ability is maxxed)

R - Beyond the Veil: Sünalt envelopes herself in an impenetrable shroud of shadows, becoming untargetable and gaining increased movement speed. While in this form, she can move through units and terrain. Sünalt can choose to reactivate the ability to emerge from the shadows, dealing massive area-of-effect damage to nearby enemies and leaving them silenced.

#bogbiter #league of legends oc #hive destiny #character concept

7 notes · View notes

anysigns · 3 months

Text

Angry T-Rex Dinosaur Art Raptor Logo Evil King Of Monsters Of Jurassic World Primal Prehistoric Tyrannosaurus Predator Carnivores Animal Vinyl Sticker / Printed Vinyl Decal

Unleash the primordial power of the prehistoric era with our captivating vinyl sticker featuring an Angry T-Rex Dinosaur Art Raptor Logo—a symbol of untamed might and ancient dominance in the Jurassic world. This meticulously crafted design pays homage to the fearsome ruler of the past, the Tyrannosaurus Rex, infusing it with a modern twist that’s sure to captivate the imagination of dinosaur enthusiasts and pop culture aficionados alike.

#vinyl decals #art #vinyl stickers #vehicle decals #painting #car stickers #vinyl sticker decal canada usa #business #vehicle graphics #adhesive vinyl print application #t rex #dinosaur

2 notes · View notes

generaltrashshecox · 4 months

Text

Okay whoops thinking my carnivore x herbivore antmien idea because um WHY DID I NOT KNOW MÅNESKIN DID A COLLAB WITH BEASTARS??? It came on my recommended and I was like what??? The song the video just ugh the manga is so beautiful and while I love the anime the manga has just such an interesting art style I'm such a legoharu shipper I'm sorry- ANYWAYS- inspired by @/shriggy-the-rat-king's furry Smosh art!! (I don't want to tag them in my weirdness but please check them out they're so good 😭😭)

They're every cliche alright, Damien is a hard-headed strong-willed herbivore who doesn't take shit from anybody and is a bit of a loner (god I have no original ideas lol) and Anthony is the soft spoken carnivore. They share classes (college here) and they exchange notes here and make small talk nothing much but one day Damien doesn't come to class which isn't a huge deal they've all missed classes but then one turns to two to three and their professor calls on him.

"Could you stop my Mr. Haas' dorm and deliver these for me? I've seen you two chat so I was hoping to send someone he's more comfortable with." And Anthony is stunned but he takes the notes from the professor. He asks around for where Damien's dorm is getting met with strange looks but they wave it off and tell him. He walks up to it and he reaches up to knock before a smell assaults his senses. His fur bristles at it at first tail swinging wildly before it lulls him. It's musky and heady and making his brain frazzled and he thinks he should leave before he hears a voice.

"Is someone there?" Damien croaks, voice tight as if he'd been sick and Anthony snaps out of it for a moment.

"Uh- yeah. Professor Windlewood sent me to give you the notes you missed the last few days," he says and he hears shuffling. He steps back as he hears the door unlatch and Damien opens the door smell even stronger now. Anthony can sees his disheveled state ears drooped, bags under his eyes, and only in a robe that was open enough to reveal his light and soft looking chest fur. Anthony realizes he's staring and his face heats up before he hands over the papers to the rabbit.

"Thanks. You didn't have to," Damien said softly before eyeing up the panther in front of him. He clears his throat. "Would you uh... Like to come inside for a minute? Chat?" And Anthony is stunned for a moment.

"Uh- I mean well... Are you sure? I am a carnivore after all..." he said simply and Damien smiled.

"I know that. And yes I'm sure. C'mon I'll make some tea and you can help me with the notes," he said with a smile and Anthony felt he couldn't deny. Not that he really wanted to. He stepped inside the smell even more intense but he breathed through it trying not to raise suspicion. The door closed behind him making it feel final for some reason.

Damien led him to the couch and he sat down. He sat the papers on the small table only for them to fall off and him to curse.

"Sorry I'm such a clutz," he grumbled before leaning down to grab them giving Anthony a full view of his ass and cottontail in pretty black lace panties. Anthony swallowed thickly. This was definitely going to be an interesting study session.

I'M SORRY

(I just want Damien in heat and it affecting Anthony in ways it really shouldn't it makes no sense biologically but he's still there head fuzzy and ready to breed the rabbit in any way he wants ajsj)

#i wouldn't call myself a furry #but i also wouldn't call myself not a furry #what a conundrum #anyways #antmien #anthony x damien #anthony/damien #carnivore x herbivore #spicy idea

3 notes · View notes

unrelatabledude · 1 year

Text

THE GREAT OC ROUND UP!!!!

I might make this two parts orz because of the images but i finally!! got some basic stuff down about my most important ocs. Trust me, I could post the huge group pics too but i Wouldn't have Anything to Say about them!!

LETS GO

NAME: Ryouichi Tenma

AGE: Early Twenties

HEIGHT: 154cm

VIBE: Sleepy, plant obsessed, loves monsters and ghosts and especially Slime. Off-putting and shy, but very sweet.

LIKES: Mold, fungi and carnivorous plants. Building terrariums and aquariums. Pixel art, cryptids and ghost stories. Frogs, snails and moths.

DISLIKES: Public bathrooms, loud noises. The smell of bleach.

SUMMARY:

Ryoutan started out as a Dangan Ronpa OC, a reserve student who would be thought to be the mastermind alongside his talented twin sister. Overtime, he’s morphed to be less angry and more strange. Ryou lives slowly and relaxed. He suffers from insomnia and reads ghost stories to make himself more okay with what could be creeping in the dark. Ryou is a fat, gay trans man, and has had trouble fitting in at school leading to some really unpleasant phobias. Ryou is probably my oldest OC and he means so much to me. He has been in more AUs than I can count and I refuse to stop <3. Ryou is the ambient man u need in ur life.

NAME: Setsuna Tenma

AGE: Early Twenties

HEIGHT: 156cm

VIBE: Punk rock, standoffish. Knows how to play the piano surprisingly well.

LIKES: Rollerblading, fighting games and sports like baseball and MMA. Cats, Ren fairs. Streams frequently.

DISLIKES: Overlyfriendly people (especially men). Cold weather.

SUMMARY:

Setsuna started out as Ryouichi’s sister in a Dangan Ronpa killing game. She was the SHSL Astrologer. Now, her backstory has her as an old child star who quickly began to resent the fame. By the time she was in high school, Setsuna would begin getting into physical fights to protect her brother, and ended her career on her own terms. As she's grown up, she enjoys playing fighting games professionally, and rollerblading. Setsuna at her core is an extremely guarded person, believing she hurt her best friend via her own search for recognition in society. She loves deeply, but has a thick prickly outer shell that few can breach. She yearns for someone to hold her, and finds it easier to interact with people who are seemingly oblivious to her resting bitch face and sardonic humor. Setsuna is a bisexual cis woman.

NAME: Ciaran

AGE: 19-20

HEIGHT: 175cm

VIBE: Repressed Catholic Demon. Anxious and overbearing.

LIKES: The routine of cleaning, the sensation of soft silk. Choir Music. Photography and sewing

DISLIKES: Cramped, dark spaces. The smell of dirt.

SUMMARY:

Ciaran was my second DnD character, but the first I really got attached to. A tiefling abandoned by his mother to a church that hated him, Ciaran’s life has been nothing but heartache and confusion. He serves a deity named the All-Father and has committed acts under duress to serve this deity. He’s pious, and a goody-two shoes, and his arc relies heavily on him exploring himself and breaking out of that cult mentality. Essentially a brainwashed Catholic raised in a magic cult compound, Ciaran is ill equipped to interact with the world in a healthy way. Almost as if someone wants him to end his pilgrimage to explore the world knowing he would stay by the church till the end. Haha, but he wouldn't be the target of manipulation…. Would he?

Ciaran is a transmasc bi guy. His gender is complicated.

NAME: Sorrel(-Sprouted-From-Spring) Augustine

AGE: 19-21

HEIGHT: 155 cm

VIBE: Runway princess. Rough around the edges and mysterious.

LIKES: Warm paths, chocolate. Being on the beach, sailing and fencing.

DISLIKES: Nudity, slimy feeling things. The smell of incense. The taste of blood.

SUMMARY:

Imagine being sold on the idea of Divine Rights for Kings, in a world where being king means magical control equal to nuclear power. Then imagine that sense of superiority being taken away from you when you realize you will never get it, you’re gay as fuck, you’re about to be married to the worst man you know. I mean, then the only sensible option is to confront your fiance and try to leave right?

In doing that, Sorrel left her kingdom disfigured and cursed to become a horrible monster, now set to be a dungeon crawler in hopes of ridding herself of her fiance’s influence. Originally a Dungeon Bitchs PC (Runaway Princess), Sorrel is now my main ttrpg character in a Heart campaign (Witch with Deadwalker flavoring).

NAME: Jun Swiftriver

AGE: Mid Twenties

HEIGHT: 178cm

VIBE: A person who has nothing left to lose. Steals everything, gives nothing.

LIKES: Shiny baubles, hot meals. Jewelry, good fabric. The feeling of a feather pillow. The sensation of water on his skin.

DISLIKES: The smell of alcohol. Flames and ash.

SUMMARY:

Jun started life out as a DnD concept. A water genasi who grew up as an unloved child in a noble family. When the common people finally took out his father and stepmother in an awful house fire Jun took it as a sign to be exactly what he wanted to be and form a new identity. Unfortunately, living completely destitute limited his options. Today, Jun has sold everything he can and stolen everything not nailed down. He’s the traveling companion of a scholar and relearning how to interact with others from a lifetime of being put down and isolated. Jun is a gay trans man.

NAME: Toulouse

AGE: 18-19

HEIGHT: 178 cm

VIBE: Clown!! Mime!! Jester!! Contortionist!! Don’t look behind you teehee!!!!!!

LIKES: Puppets!! Colors!! Aerobatics!! Gymnastics!! Stuffed animals!!! Real animals!!

DISLIKES: Getting hurt :<!! Beetroot :<!! Sweeping!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY:

Toulouse is a creepy pasta concept come to life. Found by a traveling circus, Toulouse was unable to speak and couldn’t give himself a name. They decided to name him after the city they found him- Toulouse. Still mostly mute, Toulouse works as an acrobat, clown and contortionist for the circus. The catch being that the circus imbues its workers with magic, and it manifested in Toulouse a strong regenerative ability. Toulouse is a clown that simply cannot die.

NAME: Vesper

AGE: 25

HEIGHT: 174cm

VIBE: God’s perfect little jester. Mean, off putting and pathetic.

LIKES: The sea, antique dolls, the smell of newspaper. Scarves and coats (bulky)

DISLIKES: Gore, braids, heights, tight spaces. Being Ignored.

SUMMARY:

A Magnus archives oc. Vesper was a mean girl until he transitioned at uni. During this time, he realised that for longer and longer periods he would literally be invisible to everyone, and that he wasn’t just being shunned. Eventually, Vesper spent 2 years being invisible to all of society. A chance meeting with a former victim- someone who could see him and someone experiencing similar changes and powers- set him on the path to discover more about Entities. Now, Ves is a pain in the ass to everyone, and constantly on the lookout. Think about him as the guy whose being infected with every disease at once, so none of them can get to him first. Still able to become invisible and spirited others away into fog.

NAME: Kjell Thorngren

AGE: 2000+ (Elf) Around 40-50 (Human)

HEIGHT: 196cm

VIBE: Sickly sweet incense, a smile that doesn’t reach the eye. I hate you for what you did, and I miss you like a little kid.

LIKES: Old books, cracking codes. The smell of snow and summer.

DISLIKES: Loss of control, dirt. The thought and feeling of pain.

SUMMARY:

Kjell is the enigmatic leader of Ciaran’s church. He takes in orphaned boys and raises them in the far north. His church is in a strange pocket of spring in a region that always snows. Kjell worships a fringe god, The All-Father, a parasitic vine god that has infested his old friend. Many of the boys are unaware of it’s true form, and are forced to participate in ritual sacrifice to it. Kjell is ego-driven, rude and considers himself superior to everyone around him. Deep inside, he feels deeply inadequate and has fostered these children to provide both the ego boost and sense of power over them. Kjell is obsessed with his old love, Caramel, to the point of obsessing over features Ciaran shares with him. A deeply abusive man, Kjell will do almost anything to ensure Ciaran returns to his fold. Kjell is a cis man wizard.

NAME: Caramel

AGE: 2000+ (Elf) Around 40-50 (Human)

HEIGHT: 188cm

VIBE: Dionysus, Hedonistic. A poet and muse, an inspiration and a deep well of creativity.

LIKES: Life's simple and indulgent pleasures, the arts. Bodies of all shapes and sizes, the warmth of a good party.

DISLIKES: Overly clingy people. Rude comments, bad social etiquette.

SUMMARY:

Caramel started out as a backstory character for Ciaran’s main backstory antagonist. Kjell’s childhood friend turned somewhat lover turned murder victim, Caramel was a bright spark in Kjell’s life that really amped up Kjell’s possessiveness. Caramel was a poet, a scholar, easy going and smarter than Kjell, and for that Kjell both wanted to kill and immortalize him. The catalyst for Kjell’s life on the run, his murder and infestation with a parasitic god, serves as the backdrop for Kjell’s false religion. He started out as a nothing character, but I adored the idea and design of him so much that he became a larger and larger fixture in our AUs. Caramel is a bi cis man.

NAME: Von

AGE: 24

HEIGHT: 170cm

VIBE: Aloof older brother. Self serving, but as kind as he can be.

LIKES: MMA, Karate and other martial arts. Making flower crowns. Climbing trees. The clink of coins.

DISLIKES: Dependency. He really dislikes anyone touching his neck and back.

SUMMARY:

The other important church boy. The only boy that would stand up for him, and someone that actively ran away from the cult Ciaran was in. He’s still out there in the world, and often feels bad that he felt like he couldn’t take him with. He shows up a lot more in AUs. Von is a mlm cis man, and a human monk.

Here are all the boys at Ciaran's church (this is super old lmao)

See you for part two!

#pax.txt #oc tag #Ryou #Setsuna #Ciaran #Sorrel #Jun #Toulouse #Kjell #Caramel #Vesper #Von #pax art #I KNOW this is rlly rushed and shit and terrible but. i needed this out here

10 notes · View notes