#and they probably have designers- alot of them

[achillean-knight]

Deadass, designing robots and incredibly withered versions is so fuckin' relaxing for me. Maybe my ass should apply for Steelwool if they wanna take on any character designers ✋

[tornado1992]

A lot of Tails’ stuff being blue, most of Sonic’s belongings having a hint of yellow.

[peacockrulz]

Sorry for the lack of posts, have some more headcanons!!

[kryptonitejelly]

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

-

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

-

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

-

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

-

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

-

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

-

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

-

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

-

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

-

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

-

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[kinerxy]

The Molar Horse, they're similar to IRL horses but alot bigger and with a bulkier neck... beside the obvious frontal tusks used for defense against predators and in intraspecific competition.

Due to their aggressive and fearless nature aswell as gigantic size theyre an excellent war mount, even if their domestication isnt for the weak.

when their lips are relaxed they cover all the teeth, this is to protect their integrity and also to avoid infections, this tissue is hardy but flexible enough to be pulled all the way back to show the hidden upward incisives and the rest of the teeth, baring their teeth can be out of distress or as a threat.

(the silly)

In a previous ask I explained how these animals can eat, in short I didn't want to add some type of trunk nor modify the appearance of the tusks especially the big frontal one so the easiest option to go is to have a large tounge strong enough to help it eat in a similar fashion to a giraffe.

But I was thinking that in my setting the general landescape is very desertic and there aren't many trees around, this opens an issue since the tounge was based on a giraffe tounge which is made to grab tree branches and pull the leaves into their mouths, so maybe these tounges could have spiky cavities similar to a feline tounge but much more exaggerated, this to be able to have a stronger hold on the dry grass and other types of dry food that probably would be on the ground.

TW: (fictional) Animal abuse

In my story there are many important factions and in general they aren't benevolent specially since the war is a common occassion and each one have to do what it needs to success and maintain territory and resources, this faction, the Altan Empire (which hopefully i will show more of them in a future) is one of the few important nations that have managed to domesticate the dangerous Molar Horses, but to conceive this they had to do some evil shit

The lips of a molar horse are a very sensitive part of their body, these have many nerve conections to be able to move them and show different types of expressions, emotions and give indications to other Molar horses.

The removal of these lips greatly vaffects their behavior, making them docier and easier to handle aswell as opening a entrance to put the mouthpiece and colocate the bridle without having problems with the vast tissue, this is called marking.

A marked molar horse is alot less unstable than its wild counterpart, making them an excellent mount to be used in the loud and unpredictable battles between factions, it also improves their intimidation factor

But beside their obvious degradation in appearance, these animals become incapable of communicating normally with other molar horses.

Another problem are the infections, is common to see marked molar horses with infected pimples, scars or without some back teeth that fell off or had to be removed.

on the bright side, in recent times and due to the domestication of the marked molar horses, meaning that newborns are more docile withouth having to mark them aswell as improvements in the design of the bridle, said newborns are commonly left with their intact lips.

[seozii]

──── ❝ LETTERS ❞ 💌

After years of sending anonymous letters, Riki finally decided to be bold enough and end the letter with his actual name.

၇୧ ׄ ִ Fluff, not so slow burn, lil bit rushed at the ending. 1K WC,𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑

With shaky hands Riki placed the nice designed envelope into your locker. Slamming the metal material when he heard footsteps getting closer.

He’s sprinted away almost immediately practically crawling on the floor to get over to where his friends stood. Which was just a few centimeters from the Locker.

“So….who are you proms going to be?” You conversed with you friends about the upcoming prom in three days.

Riki watched wishing that he could one day be bold enough to strike up a conversation with you. Even if it was about the most random things.

One could say that Riki wasn’t a very shy person but when it comes to y/n he can deny that statement with his whole heart.

“Oh I’m already going with Cha sunghoon you know the one in class B” her friend Danielle responds with a beaming smile.

“Ooo I didn’t know you could pull” you teased turning to open your locker.

The moment you pulled the handle, a pink letter slipped out. The way the person wrapped it made it look so appealing to the eyes, you felt a sudden urge to unwrap the letter.

“How about you— hey what’s that ?” Minji asked staring at the paper lying on the floor.

Bending down to pick up the letter, you sighed. “It’s another letter”

“What do you mean ANOTHER so you’ve had a few?!” Hanni asked her face written with nothing but amazement.

“Not a few, yeah alot. But the thing is, I’m tired of these letters. It’s just the person I have in mind is…..” you paused taking a look around almost making eye contact with Riki until he diverted his gaze from your direction.

“Is who?” Danielle asked with anticipation.

Bending down to pick up the letter, you analyzed it before unwrapping it. “Dear y/n I know we’ve never actually talked. But if you’ve noticed the handwriting. Yes it’s me, secret admirer ;). I’m going to reveal my name at the end of the letter but all I want to ask you is if you’d go to the prom with me. It’s okay if you’ll say no. I completely understand since you probably don’t even know me but I would highly appreciate one chance. Your secret admirer, Nishimura Riki” Hanni and minji read out loud earning a side eye from you.

“Bro who even is Nishimura Riki? I’ve never heard of them”

“I don’t know either y/n but what I do know for sure is that this person is in this school” Hanni shrugged.

“That’s a very useful information” you sarcastically responded rolling your eyes after.

“Y/nnnn~ you didn’t complete your previous statement” Danielle sang in your ears.

“What previous statement?”

Minji scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “The one about you having someone in mind”

“Ohhhhh that!” You recollected. “Yeah what about it?”

“You dummy! Who’s the person you have in mind???” Danielle yelled in your ears causing you to push her away.

“I DON’T KNOW HIS NAME!! Ugh you’re gonna burst my eardrum. He’s just this one dude that sits at the back of my class. He just has this intimidating aura that’s pulling me even closer ugh” you bit your lower lips seductively.

“Ew”

“Shut up! It’s not my fault no one has asked you yet”

—

The bell rang indicating the end of the day.

You held onto a piece of paper rushing out of the class before the teacher even declared the assignment.

“Hey! So sorry to bother you. But do you know anyone named Nishimura Riki?” You asked stopping a fellow student.

“Nishimura Riki?” They repeated followed by a well detail description.

“Thanks!” You smiled now on a haunt to find the said boy.

“Riki?” You whispered softly in the empty corridors. Almost everyone were gone by this time. You doubt you’d even find the ‘riki’.

“Ah YN…” Riki answered turning to face you. His eyes darted everywhere but your eyes. His chest was feeling a sudden burst of emotions. While his cheeks were a light shade of pink.

“So you’re the Riki?” You spoke softly realizing it was the intimidating boy who sat at the back of your classroom.

“Y-yes” he answered trying to hold back a mere smile. He felt the sudden urge to look at her face. But his shy demeanor around her would never make him have the courage to.

“Could you look at me…” he choked on air. No way he was going to meets eyes with you. “Please?” You pleaded quietly. An imagination of you pouting crept into his mind making it harder to resist.

With a sigh he slowly turned his head to face you. “Yay!!” You beamed happily.

“Sooooo you’re actually secret admirer?” You asked just for confirmation.

Riki nodded shyly feeling a bit embarrassed. “I accept” you blurted out unexpectedly.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Accept what?”

“You asked to go to the prom with me right? Yeah I accept” you said slowly.

“REALLY?!” He yelled excitedly. Calming down after realizing how eager he sounded. “I mean. That’s really cool. It makes me so happy right now” he squealed.

You giggled at his reaction. “By the way, I’m heading home now. Wanna come with me?” You requested tilting your head to the side.

“why not? I’m also planning on going home anyways”

With clear hesitation, Riki stretched out his hand for you to take. Hoping you’ll get the hint.

You stared at his hand in confusion. “Ohhh” you joined hands with him after realization came in.

Your hands felt so soft and warm.

He often glanced back at you as the both of you walked through the empty dark streets. It was only the street lights and your smile that lighten up the environment.

the moment he would never forget when you bid goodbye to him in front of your house,placing a soft kiss on his lips. His body felt numb the moment your soft lips made contact with his.

The smell of your intoxicating perfume lingered in his Brian.

“See you tomorrow, boyfriend! Or wait! We’re together right?” You paused waiting for his response.

Riki didn’t even think twice, nodding his head to your question.

“That’s awesome!” You smiled widely running into your house, closing the door behind you.

Who knew you had eyes on him this whole time.

[hiraethminds]

hi hi hello! i really like your art :) what do you think of clover ii? i don't remember if you've drawn her before, but anyway i'd love to see her in your style!! thanks!!!

HI!! truth be told i have drawn alot of clovers! just haven't posted them cuz i still don't know how to draw her good, but here's a few of my musings.

as for what i think of her? I'm not exactly cloverpilled but I love her!

At first I kind of rolled my eyes, "head in the clouds" characters are extremely hard for me to get into because I'm personally not a fan (I like my guys to be a little nitty gritty/angsty if that makes any sense)

but the introduction of her luck inflicting misfortune on the other contestants was a really unique twist that was executed in a manner I enjoyed! I love how her personality twisted, and she became very guilty and fearful of what she found out about herself! (if u wanna stretch that we could make mephone comparisons but that's REALLY stretching lol)

so she's a solid high mid tier, will probably get higher on rewatch since I don't remember alot of the details, her therapizing nickel was really funny.

also, she was the 13th contestant eliminated 13, and 13 is commonly regarded as an unlucky number in western culture (neat detail idk)

once I get her design down i really want to make a baseball art piece w/her (unsurprising i am resident baseball head i will make him interact with everyone) with a whole good luck/bad luck theme I think the contrast is funny

[minnlahzz]

friede with an introverted s/o.

requested.

this guy is really interesting. i hope they stretch out his character more, because all he's known for is just being the hero when liko and roy are getting cooked. it's not enjoyable anymore the 1st time, but im glad we got to know more about his backstory and pikachu, i think that episode was more enjoyable than the recent ones, because it actually felt like i was watching pokemon the anime. anyway sorry for the yap, this was fun to do.

— NOTE : LOWERCASE INTENDED

since friede is definitely a social house, people wonder how you guys met. it's like opposites attract, or sun and moon.

he's dedicated into making sure you're comfortable around the environment of the ship. friede asks you to go but never forces you out during their bonding moments, (picnics)

and he'd talk for you when there's way too much people, or tell this people to go away for you. he's straight forward anyway.

you're introverted (of course,) so you've never really talked to the kids, but they've always wanted to talk to you, just too shy to do so. liko and roy would ask friede, and he'd all go all golden retriever (or pikachu) mode. he rambles about you, in the most inlove way possible

captain pikachu always had a liking to you, this electric rats love for you probably competes friede's love for you! like pokemon like trainer, what can i say? friede's also not bothered with it, he thinks of it as his two favorite people bonding.

speaking of bonding, when everyone else in the rising volt tacklers are asleep–he'd take you out to ride charizard, not anywhere special preferably just a stroll around places or star gazing if you're a fan of that.

he'll do anything you'd want when he has free time, journaling? he'll journal and make crappy stickers to design it with! reading? friede has alot of books from his time as a passionate professor (not that he's not passionate anymore.)

he encourages you to socialize with others, but remember that it's alright to take things slowly.

when you do socialize with others, friede is watching far away proud. he knows you have a social battery though, and can take you out of the conversation when you feel discomfort.

and he's pretty supportive in whatever you do! he'll support your boundaries and make sure other people support and respect them. friede isn't always there, but captain surely is, when you're missing friede there's always this gremlin rat as a replacement.

[thecertifiedboykisser]

Ok, big post with all evidence pointing to ratio being from amphoreus and some pointing against it.

Some leaks are in here!!! Be warned!!!

1-design stuff

Some notes, the style of clothing is very similar, most if all chrysos heirs have the same eye stuff that ratio has some just aren't colored (you can see it on some of the models in the trailer or the art at the end of the first trailor)

Spirals are a big thing, as well as the belt with the fabric (idk what it's call im sorry) and it draping over their legs. The blue stones and gold stuff.

Might be a bit of a pull but in the 3.0 live stream, dr.orange kinda looked like him, but I might be going insane.

Mydei and him have very similar eyes as well (I'm using mydei as a ref point bcs he's the only male from amphoreus we have splash art for to work with) same shape, puplies similar shape

I'm sure there's other design stuff and I might add it later. But for now this is all I got.

2-story elements

Now, this is more the lack of story, ratio has nothing but crumbs for his lore, where he's from, anything about him. Even his character storys aren't told from his own perspectives. The only time he really talks about himself is when he's referring to his goals or his love of books and baths.

He also doesn't have any clarification on where he's from other than the Intelligencea guild, and that's just a faction. There's no mention of his home planet at all.

On the official wiki. There are some that are classified as cosmic but we know the home of (boothill, acheron, Sunday, rappa[iffy, we know some details, like it was under dr.primive, but we don't know it's name so idk]) and some that we don't because it doesn't matter to there lore bcs there wanderers. Like sparkle, blackswan, and argenti. But dr.ratio doesn't fall into any of those categories. His home planet is vaguely mentioned as they have a bunch of stuff on him, but that's it.

It seems to matter to his lore, as you'd want yo know all about this great doctor, yet he's a complete mystery. And the quests don't help either.

He's not made for penacony or the space station. He even calls himself a supporting character, his character story was about others and guiding the trailblazer through helping them. He was solely there to help aventurine in penacony. Barely anything for himself.

That lack of knowledge tells me what I need to know. Either he's purposely keeping it a mystery, or it's gonna be figured out later. I mean if he is from amphoreus, he probably keeps it a mystery bcs how the hell is he gonna prove it's real.

3- What proves it's not real.

So, there's all this evidence, but it's lacking or doesn't make sense in some areas. Most of these points were brought up on tiktok by @/veritasratioenjoyer they make some really good points in their post, and its what inspired me to make this:)

So. It's stated in the livestream that the people of amphoreus have no concept of the outside world, meaning it's very unlikely that he's from there, considering how well known he is and that he follows the path of the erudition.

Veritasratioenjoyer explains it alot better than me so go check there video out.

If you have any more to add, feel free to in the reblogs! I do read them all:)

[millylotus]

Secret Son John Constantine

Inspired by @herbatahleb's funny little fanart

As the title says The Everlasting Trio have a child and his name is John “Hellblazer” Constantine

He’s making his parents proud

John was born of a kind of soul blood pact between the three, he got his blonde hair from Sam, his eyes from Tucker, and his overall appearance is a mix of the three of them

John grew up to follow in Tucker & Sam’s footsteps of magic, he’s a born sorcerer unlike them though

His relationship with his parents is generally good, but because of how he treats his soul his relationship with Danny has deteriorated

They argue about this alot, John’s soul is his own and what he does with it really isn’t any of Danny’s business, Danny has the concerned parent vibes of the parent of a sex worker, their fears are founded but they need to trust their kid to know how to take care of themselves

John hates visiting home because of it, Dani will sometimes drag him back home for holidays but he doesn’t stay long

Sam & Tucker try to get them to get along but it isn’t really working

Then one day Danny gets accidentally summoned by the Justice League

---

John doesn’t recognize the summoning circle as it buzzes to life, he doesn’t know what type of creature or being will pop out. If they’re good or bad, or even merciful but he knows they’re strong from the intricate design or the circle. So he recklessly jumps forward, pushing Hal out of the binding circle so the Lantern isn’t bound to the summoned being.

John takes the binding with a scream of pain, feeling electricity shoot up his spine.

He can hear the Leaguers shouting his name, he’s vaguely aware of Jordan supporting him. But what he hears clearest was the voice of a man he most despised in the world at the moment.

“Really John? You didn’t have to do that, he would have been fine.”

John closes his eyes tight and breaths deep, he looks up to the voice and looks into the toxic green eyes as they met his own brown ones.

“Good to see you too Father.”

The green eyed being rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yes, hello Son. It’s great to see you again as well.”

The League had only heard a few things about John Constantine’s family. They knew he had three parents who’re polyamouros, that he has an older sister and an aunt. Besides that all they have are silent grumblings about “Father won’t like this” when he does something risky.

But to see a young filipino man probably no older than twenty, floating over John “Hellblazer” Constantine and looking down on him like a disappointed parent. It was jarring.

Wonder Woman was the first to say anything “John, could you perhaps explain what just happened?”

John and his father broke their intense eye contact to look at Diana, who barely flinched at the sudden attention, the others behind her weren’t so fearless.

Constantine sighed carefully stepping away from Hal, “This is my Father.”

Hal snorted, “Yeah we got that man.”

“Yes John, introduce me to your friends here.”

---

Danny is generally snarky when meeting the League, he makes some weird comments about John hanging out with superheroes, that could be construed as rude

The others are kinda pestering John about who his dad even is, while John is more focused on getting the fucking bind removed

He eventually has to ask Zatanna for help

Danny for the most part is hanging out with the League while John’s working

Someone calls him Mr.Constantine and Danny quickly corrects them saying that isn’t his last name

Which sparks a whole conversation of John’s last name, which Danny isn’t about to say cause real names have power and such

Danny sees John working closely with Zatanna and asks if he’s with her or not, John is beyond embarrassed and even worse is when Danny brings up King Shark, mentioning that Dani really liked him too

John snarks back that then King Shark should have just gone for her instead of him since Danny was so adamant about King Shark being such a great son-in-law

Things get awkward quick as the two snark back at each other while everyone else realizes where John gets it from

It almost becomes a screaming match before the League has to break it up before they go to far

John ends up just calling Sam & Tucker so they can just break the binding

It’s a tense few minutes before they get there, and the League just kinda has to sit there as father & son fume not looking at each other

When Tucker & Sam get there they see the two not wanting to talk to each other at all

Leaguers are not reeling at seeing John’s other parents who he also vaguely looks like but also not

As the two work on the binding John & Danny are being passive aggressive

The two decide that John & Danny need to spend some time together to get this shit figured out

---

Sam : Alright that’s it *Sam & Tucker stop working, Sam has her head in her hands and Tucker is leaning far back* Danny : What? John : I’m sorry? Tucker : You two have been fighting for far to long, you’ve probably forgotten why Danny : I know exactly why, it’s because John doesn’t know how to treat his soul right! John : By The Ancients! You’re still on about that Danny : Of course! Sam : Will you both just SHUT UP! *Silence* Sam : We’re not breaking the binding, you two are going to stay stuck together Danny : Sammy! John : Mama, Papa. Please don’t do this! Tucker : Nuh-uh, this happening, you two are getting a some father-son bonding time for the week! John *distressed*: Why! You can’t just– it’s not fair! *Sam & Tucker loosen up a bit, looking to John softly* Sam : Baby it’s alright, we’re not trying to punish you we just want you & your father to actually talk things through Danny : It feels like your punishing me Tucker : You are his father, you will be the civil one in this so don’t you fucking dare get any lip *Danny goes silent* Sam *sigh* : We’ll be leaving now Tucker : Good look you two The two leave, then silence Danny : Do you still have that demon house of yours? John *sigh* : Yeah I’ll show you a room for your stay

---

Most of the story is really just about John & Danny learning to get along again

Danny has to finally trust his kid to know what he’s doing with his own body

And John realising that his dad just wants to keep him safe & stuff

By the end of their basically grounding the two have begun to mend their relationship, Danny promises to come over and visit along with inviting John back home to the zone when he feels like

I've been meaning to post this for awhile now & it's just been sitting in my drafts until I finally remembered it.

Hope you liked is! :]

Main Story Index [It's kinda messy but it's got links to most everything]

[lyss-sketchbox]

Welcome back to lyssten to my rambles: Natlan Nagging. This isn't necessarily hate, I just wanna address and analyze a notion that I've seen around.

The argument of 'This natlan character design sucks and doesn't fit in Genshin' then the apparent answer to it is 'It's a fantasy game duhh'. I personally disagree, I think it's a shallow response that ignores alot of details.

Yes, genshin is a fantasy game. BUT there are rules that makes up a good fictional world, and that is consistency. Genshin has shit consistency obviously looking at the level of tech between each nation. But it IS consistent when isolated within nations alone.

Mondstadt's theme is traditional Germany. So the city has traditional buildings and no mechanical technology, the NPCs dress traditionally and use simple medieval tools, and the characters all use skills that fit the theme. Take Venti for an example, his design and kit communicates that he is a medieval bard which fits the theme of Mondstadt, seeing him move in Mondstadt amongst its people is not out of place.

So what I'm saying here is 'consistency' means the world, NPCs, and character must be within theme of the nation.

Another example. Sumeru's theme is middle eastern, but more fantasy and technologically advanced. The buildings have grand middle eastern architechture, robots already exists here and NPCs have access to the knowledge/skills/magic to make them, the akasha and related tech are accessible for everyone. Let's take Alhaitham for example, he dresses with Sumerian patterns, his skills looks similarly like the existing akasha technology. He is in theme with the nation and see him walking amongst Sumerian people is not out of place.

So what I mean when Natlan characters doesn't look like they came from Genshin is that they are not in theme with Natlan's established themes. Natlan itself is a jumbled mesh of 20 million cultures, but the general theme they were probably going for is tribal civilizations. (Bear with my generalization)

Take Mualani as a GOOD example of an in theme character:

She came from the People of the Springs. It's a Hawaiian (correct me if I'm wrong) themed location. It looks traditional, sail boat like buildings and huts, no visible mechanical technology, has simple magic mechanisms (spiritwave, koholasaurus). Massive tourism spot (Hawaii influence).

The NPCs are all dressed like how people who live by water would dress. They don't use mechanical tools. They are surfers, fishers, or tour guides. They are all relatively much more happy and kinder to guests since they are in a tourism spot. They all can use spiritwaves and koholasaurus.

Mualani herself dress similarly like her people. Very much extroverted since she is a tour guide. Her skills are pool floaties and a surf board. Her design communicates she is a peppy surfer girl. She can move within the People of the Springs and she does not look out of place. She is in theme.

I can complain about her all I want but when I look at her and watch her move. I see People of the Springs. That's it. I see her and she fits the world and people.

Now take Mavuika as an out of theme character

Since she is an Archon she doesn't have any specific tribe's symbols. So the 'world' she must belong in is Natlan in its entirety, aka tribal civilizations + extra fantasy magic tech. Still the architechture is very traditionally tribal with rough stone houses, huts, and tapestries. There IS mechanical technology but it is used sparringly (DJ booth, weapons the enemies wield, etc). Besides that it's all traditional. And much more emphasis on magic and rituals.

The NPCs while they came from different tribes has the same base of clothing styles with minor differences. They all wear clothes with 'tribal markings'. They all have access to their respective saurian and magic mechanisms. They all have access to the basic tech we've seen. They have access to the 'special magic' too (Like being an ancient name smith (or other important roles isn't JUST for playable characters)

Mavuika doesn't dress like any of them. She doesn't look like she'd fit in with her people, hell she barely fits in with the more exaggerated playable characters. When I look at her I see biker, I don't see Natlanese, I don't see important Natlanese. Her bike doesn't look like it came from any existing technology in Natlan. There's ROBOTS in Natlan and her bike doesn't look like it came from the same design origins.

'Oh Lyss it's because it's her signature thing she created out of her element-' CHASCA'S GUN looks more in theme than Mavuika's bike, it looks like it's made from Natlanese tech.

IN A VACUUM WHERE MAVUIKA ISN'T IN NATLAN she looks sick as hell. In NATLAN she looks like a 5th descender. THE POINT OF THIS ARGUMENT IS NOT THAT SHE IS UGLY, THE POINT IS SHE DOES NOT LOOK LIKE SHE IS FROM NATLAN AND GENSHIN HAS NEVER BROKEN CHARACTER THEME THIS BADLY BEFORE.

'Well archons are supposed to be special cases so they stand out-'

Ei doesn't look like a twitch streamer does she? Zhongli doesn't look like a book store owner in 1990s britain does he? Furina doesn't look like a 2020s Hollywood actor does she? They don't need to break their own theme and culture to stand out.

'Are you saying we cant incorporate X in Y culture at all? That's racist-'

There is a certain deviation from theme that people are willing to tolerate before the immersion break. ESPECIALLY when you use an existing culture as a design reference, people can TELL when it goes overboard. You do NOT mix and match culture without consistensy. Incorporate whatever the hell you want and mesh 20 million cultures all you want. But make the deviation consistent for every aspect. World. NPC. Character.

Because what makes Genshin stands out is the cultural details of its nations and characters. Without it then it's a standard gacha game spewing out whatever random character with insert trendy detail here. And that really upsets me because the cultural design is one of the reasons I stayed in Genshin.

[psycho-static]

lmao the next two!! Me pickles n Nathan designs Nathan was hella hard to design cuz i just...didnt have any ideas for him, unlike pickles lmao what do u lot think? Design notes under cut: (warning very long lmao)

PICKLES .His neck is scrawny his frame is rather small but has like a weird potbelly less average more..skinny fat build (despite this hes still pretty strong when anegred, fuled by darkness and hatred 😍) .He wears a pretty thick bandana to hide his balding head .And he only has so many dread...alot of em probably fell out lmao .Said dreads are also....sentient??? idk man i think pickles having living hair would be cool asf lmao little tentacles that let him pick up 5 weed baggies at once! wahoo!!! (Inspired by the hamburger time dream sequence) .His vest is more distintcly ripped and has the exodia sign on it despite what its associated with, he still thought the shirt was cool, so he wore it anyway lmao .His trousers are hella baggy, thick comfy, and patchy, that man almost NEVER changes his trousers its like the only pair he has .So he has them custoimsed with skull kneecaps because thats BRUTAL!!!! .He has fishnets ontop of his cuffs because it looks neat, also weirdly both aquatic and metal??? it works lmao .This man would defo have a tattoo, in this case a massive drunk (or dead) octopus on his arm (his spiritual awakening told him it was a good idea ) (the only tattoo he has that isint complete shite) .The rest of the tats he got he was drunk asf when he got em (not pictured here but they defo exist lol) .His teeth and eyes are yellow cuz hes c r u s t y as f u c k . He has more peircings, pickles is a pretty big peircing enthusiast he some some on the back of his neck his nipples and probably his nuts too lmao .And obligatory arm hair lmao --------------------------------------------------------------------------- NATHAN. Ngl i had....no ideas for him lmao nathans design works as is tbh hes a pretty smiple guy he dosent need nothing fancy to be brutal HE IS THE BRUTALITY .Ik alot of ppl draw nathan pretty tan but ngl...i think hed be pale as fuck lmao nothing screams more brutal that permenant corpse paint .He has pretty dark black bags around his eyes aswell as some black drippy tears round them .His shirt n jeans are a bit ripped, but thats about it .His hair covers one of his eyes, topped with a menacing face shadow, the moment he flips his hair back though, he turns to a right sofite .And the obligatory body hair, he defo deserves some lol

[carlyraejepsans]

Ok im trying to make a character and really struggling to make them fit the vibe of undertale, do you have any thoughts on undertale's character design philosophy? or know anyone who does? tips? idk you know alot about undertale, im kinda at the design phase of "throw shit at the wall and see what sticks"

undertale character philosophy rule number 1) get silly with it. rule number 2) be fully, whole-pussedly earnest. do not half ass do NOT undermine your genuinity with useless irony it is the POISON of whimsy. actually no rule number 1) think of every possible wordplay you could make outta them. visual gags included, those are important. undertale is a comedy before being anything else. you know what these aren't in order of importance anymore, who care.

anyway, UT characters are all somehow stuck in their patterns and cycles. either through mistakes, through circumstances outside of their control, past trauma, regret, etc, but they're stuck in that. what breaks them out of that cycle is a crucial aspect of their personality and set of beliefs. keep that in mind while you brainstorm their backstory.

give them speaking quirks. you're gonna feel a little silly at first, but there's not one main character in the game whose identity you can't discern by their dialogue lines alone. no soundbit, no portrait, no context. the way they say it by itself is distinctive enough to make them recognizable. let that guide your writing process.

....ok just realized you probably meant character design as in visual character design. ok, new try: puns and double meanings and things that are not what they seemed at first sight. there's a lot of design repetition with alterations in undertale's NPCs; froggit and final froggit, the dogs in the guard, snowdrake and knight knight. see what aspects are kept and what is altered. remember: while the main characters skew towards more humanoid designs (bipedal, upright, 4 limbs, recognizable face), they all have extremely different body types, often simplifiable in a single geometric shape for the stockier ones (toriel, sans, box mtt being rectangular, toby saying how he wanted to make alphys look like a triangle), while the ones with more complex silhouettes get really fucking weird with it (papyrus is self explanatory, undyne's tall and gangly noodly shape). get creative and get diverse. consider buying the art book, even! i feel like that might be a good choice. have fun, hope this helped!! (very likely didn't lol)

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

Ok, I have 3 days of RBH's to make and post today to make up for me missing the past 2 days. So, let's hit the road!

Random Batfam Headcanon's #22: The Adoption Habit Trilogy!

The Batkids have unknowingly inherited Bruce's patent for Adopting things, but the things they adopt are vastly different.

Dick: he has a bad (or sometimes good) Habit of Adopting new hobbies and interests at the flip of a dime. This is most likely just his old circus lifestyle + his ADHD catching up to him in his older years, but he can't keep still or do any 1 career for too long without it being monotonous. The only exception is Vigilantism because each night is vastly different than the night before.

Barbara: Babs has the habit of adopting the many regulars at Gotham Library as under her protection like Jason with Crime Alley.

Jason: He, ironically enough (and never let Jason or Bruce hear this), is the most like Bruce, because his adoption habit is ALSO towards traumatized orphan Kids (and normal kids with a little bit of a sad life. We don't judge), except he's set his scope a lot smaller than Bruce's in that he tries to limit his range to just Crime Alley. Of course he fails spectacularly and has a small caballe of International Children he's picked up on missions living together in Crime Alley, always having their various apartments directly across the street from his most secure Safe Houses. He also has an inexplicably near-complete collection of every variant of Jane Austin Novels.

Tim: Tim Collects Photos and used Coffee Cups. Does he also only save those coffee cups so he can extract the persons DNA into a vast database of his so that he may clone any of the Batfam (or all of humanity if needed) in case of world disaster events? Don't worry about it :)

Steph: Steph is probably the most normal when it comes to her Adoption/Collection because she has a very vast collection of random knickknacks that she's found or acquired over the years.

Cass: Cass has been testing out her sowing skills alot and so has conducted her own small game at her apartment in Korea (not that she doesn't bring it home to Gotham with her). And that's the fact that she's begun swiping up damaged bits of everyone's costumes after fights, and just random weapons or costume parts that the Batfam leave around the Manor, and she takes them back to Korea to stitch all the random pieces back together into her own version of the Batcave's suit display cases. So far the only suit she hasn't been able to start is Barbara's Batgirl suit design, but even then she's looking at that display case every time she's visiting like Indiana Jones trying to steal that golden statue.

Damian: Damian, Being both Bruce's direct blood relative and being raised by the Eco-Terrorists that are the LOA, adopts any random animals he can find, especially those that have naturally occurring Bat Shaped Birth Marks.

Duke: Duke is the kind of Whippersnapper to collect indie Rap mixtapes. You know, the ones from up and coming rappers who stand outside a 7/11 trying to sell anyone their debut mixtape for only $9. He has a pretty vast collection.

[wanted-game-if]

Wanted Game is a cowboy fantasy with some lovecraftian horror interactive fiction game

You wake up in the middle of nowhere, the sun blistering hot

no food,

no water,

and probably the most concerning thing of all you don't remember anything not your name, not where you are and not what you look like

You are found by a gang of outlaws the leader (or who you assume the leader to be) takes you captive but then offers you a deal you can't possibly pass up but things smell fishy.. they are outlaws who are there for their selfish reasons how can you truly trust them;

especially when they all seem to know something about you even though you have a mask stuck to your face they aren’t willing to tell what they know about you

no matter how close you get or how many tricks you try

• A customizable Mc though physical customization is somwhat limited until later in the story.

• Paint/design the mask and thought out the story their will be some options that will affect your mask

• Romance 10 of the charaters 7 main ones and 3 youll just have to figure out, one of the secret romances is a poly route with Oscar, got commitment issues or just looking for fun theres a large aray of flings along the road so dont you worry

• Doom or help the jobs succeed with your choices

• Grow relationships with the rest of the gang {{and even the group of bounty hunters chasing after you and the gang}}

• When not doing jobs entertain your self with a hobby or work on your skills

Oscar || He/They || 24 || 5’3

{{ Attracted to Men & Non-binary people }}

Growing up in the gang most would probably assume Oscar is mean, greedy, selfish but if given the chance you would find a soft caring man with a love for literature almost always with a book when he is not scouting or helping his ma with sewing up clothes the gang tend to wreck

Emile || Xe/Xem || 27 || 5’10

{{ Attracted to Everyone & Anyone }}

Oscars older brother Emile is very protective of Xyrs little brother emile is known to sleep around and be a massive flirt but never actually letting anyone be anything to Xem then a pretty face Xe can fool around with. sometimes you catch Xem staring at you with a expression you don’t quite understand

Louis || He/Him || 30 || 6’2

{{ Questioning }}

A very quiet man always tending to the horses or making wood sculptures hes very quiet keeping to himself not because of anything distrustful or rude he seems to just like being alone he is always looking to help out with jobs as long as he can keep his distance with people

Boss || He/Him || 58.. || 6’0

{{ Attracted to anyone but must be close to them emotionally before he does anything sexual in nature }}

A very talkative older man with alot of elegance for a outlaw he always has plans brewing though his number one goal is keeping the gang safe. He tends to be overprotective of everyone and can be a very hotheaded man its very easy to press his buttons

Ares || he/they/she || 28 || 5’11

{{ Attracted to anyone }}

Growing up in high society Ares learnt to be a very charismatic and social fellow most people would call her a charming, gentle, kind person but if you peer close enough through their wall you will soon learn that she is not at all what she appears and she has a more nasty complex towards commoners, rich folk and especially outlaws

Clara || She/Her || 40 || 5’5

{{ Attracted to men }}

Clara a sweet older lady recently joined up with the gang temporarily to help get funds to get her home but something about her story doesn’t add up, she seems like she wouldn’t hurt a fly so many dismiss her but some ought remember she is still an outlaw no matter how sweet she seems

Adelaide || She/Her || 37 || 4’9

{{ Attracted to women and non-binary people }}

Adelaide is the best with all things traps, distractions and explosives she cant be a bit much always adding a flare to everything and talking so fast you only barely understand she isn’t very observant when it comes to body language and tone so don’t expect her you realize your emotions straight away. she is also Boss’s Niece

T} ??? || he/him || 30 || 6’0 || Poly route with Oscar

{{ Attracted anyone}}

“They are so utterly perfect for him I’m jealous of them but i also want them aswell how selfish my heart is”

S} ??? || They/Them || 29 || 5’8

{{ Attracted to women }}

“In darkness she is the one stray ray of light that kisses my face”

J} ??? || they prefer just to be called by their name || 33 || 6’5

{{Attracted to women & men}}

“Its against my job, my morals,my life so tell me why it feels so right”

||Demo:TBA || Pinterest || Art Acc || My boundaries and asks boundaries

Sorry for any misspellings or weird way i worded things

[urautismdiagnosis]

Peso

Peso my lil Habibi <3 <3 <3

hes just a top tier character

my Hispanic coded son, mylil guy who's learning how to believe in himself

i just I lovepeso guys he's so pure and supportive and caring and lighthearted and silly and he's really doing his best??

he could probably cure my mentally illness with a bandage I'm sure

imgonna be so real I think he has game tho, like I'm 300% he could pull any maiden

he can become friends with like any sea creature too probably

hes my hero and my son and I think he low-key judges everyone internally

cuz like idk if y'all have met people who refuse to swear out loud verbally and hate confrontation, but the internal dialogue omg

i just know one of these days if he gets pushed too far hes gonna threaten someone with his slappity flippers

like y'all know the look birds do where they just sideye you??

that glance???

i think he does that whenever people do things that are stupid

like he loves them all dearly but shellington why would you touch The THing That Will Hurt you, no shellington you cant eat that for science-

Also I think he and dashi would listen to music together i think they might spend evenings relaxing together. I mean their rooms are right next to eachother so like I'm sure they've had some lovely little evening conversations and stuff 🥰 i can just imagine dashi tryna teach peso yoga and like 😩🙏his penguin body wasn't built for it but he still slays

Hes like the little sibling but in the actually I am the most mature way???

I think its cuz he looks up to alot of the other members (altho he's definitely gotten alot more confident as the show has progressed) but he also like..

He gives me the vibes of the oldest sibling of not just the siblings but of all the cousins??? This might just be me projecting but like why did u even become a medic for such a wide range of medical creatures and sign up to join the newly formed highly experimental water nasa???

I think he probably had alot of high expectations on himself because everyone just always believed he could do anything. And that sounds super supportive in theory but when ur like tryna be the oldest and first one to support ur family and everyone is always looking at u because like.. most other people in ur family are younger or ehatever.. that pressure and extra attention can cause alot of perfectionism and high self standards

That mixed with being The Caretaker in your family especially as a child is a pretty good recipe for getting anxious about any big goal in your life and how others perceive you. I think he tried to like humble himself by saying oh no I'm not really capable of all those amazing things so pls don't have those huge expectations hahaha but then it just turned into not believing in himself as much???

Also we slay genuinely caring and kind people having alot of pent up frustration they never show because they love everyone too much. It still hurts inside tho.

Anyways uhhhhhhhhhhh this totally ain't me projectin or anythin.

also hes like a mixed kid, but he's mostly gentoo penguin id say based on my own design

speaking of penguins I think that their homes would be actually made of stone lol. Their homes would have like different smaller homes for privacy around like communal areas.. they still gotta deal with predstors like albatross or ehstever tho. But their albatross for example might work in groups or even be larger.

Friendly reminder my lore for the octonauts is a bit different than the Canon. Sure People People being like hunted is wayyyy less common than irl but They're basically still playing their evolutionary roles kinda like how we see with sea otters in the show.

I'm gonna make the post for their social norms and etc on this within the next few days actually lol but back to peso

Do u guys ever think peso wouldve jumpscared the crew by being like "oh no the shelf is too tall!" And then busting out the "hey did you know that penguin legs are just folded and much horrifically longer than ud think they are?" On them 😩🙏

"Wh- why would ye show me this??"

" because no one will ever believe you"

Hes very sweet but I think he deserves to be a little bit of a sneaky sht

If uve made it this far thanks for reading the brainrot I hope it was comprehensible pls lmk ur headcanons about him cuz I need more ngl