#hello malevolent fandom

[busybeeblogs]

Go With Your Gut

Description: Written purely to fulfill my fantasy of Arthur getting the rare opportunity to sit down to a proper meal. Also I KNOW in my heart Marie wouldn’t have let him leave without pulling out the special granny move “tasty homemade food.”

Fandom: Malevolent (Podcast)

Characters: Arthur Lester, John Doe, Marie Pilon

CW: Hunger, wounds and scars mentioned, non-nsfw nudity, descriptions of a malnourished body, descriptions of neglecting one’s needs.

Canon compliant: Takes place a few hours after Chapter 39 and before Arthur leaves for Red Hook with Noel.

Word Count: 3.1k

“She’s staring you down, Arthur. She knows you’re outnumbered. It’s your rook and bishop versus her queen, rook and knight. If we can back her into a corner we’ll have a way to get her in checkmate, but to do that…”

“…I’d have to stop defending my King.” Arthur murmured aloud as John outlined the stakes.

“…You’re going to have to make a move at some point, Parker.”

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll go with my gut on this one then.” Arthur moved his bishop to take Marie’s knight, and after a moment’s grief, she simply moved her rook across the board.

“Checkmate.”

“What?” Arthur scanned the board, as if he had any way of seeing what she did.

John verified the move for him: “Oh. Her rook and queen have you Arthur, I think she was waiting for you to take her knight so she could move her rook.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Language, Parker.” Marie scolded, glancing over at the grandfather clock as it began to chime. Arthur counted: one, two, three, four.

“Four o’ clock already? Gracious, I best get to making dinner.” Marie said with a start, hoisting herself out of her seat as Arthur began to gather up the chess pieces. “You said your evening plans aren’t until later on, yes?”

“Not until a quarter to nine.”

“Well, in that case I’ll make enough for the both of us.” She insisted.

Arthur blinked, closing the embellished box the chess pieces went in and setting it back on the shelf. “Marie, there’s really no need for that, I couldn’t possibly impose on a meal-“ Marie’s face suddenly turned quite serious, and she cut him off by jabbing a finger into his chest. She hit bone.

“Something about you has irked me since the moment you set foot in my home, Parker…” Arthur held his breath. “You look as if you’ve gone far too long without a proper meal. Now I called off my dinner plans, but dinner still must be had. And as my houseguest and companion for the evening, I expect you to eat with me. Am I clear?” Arthur nodded, and Marie took her hand back after repeatedly jabbing it into his sternum. Arthur let out his breath and rubbed the sore spot she left.

“You ought to listen to your gut when it comes to food, not chess dear. I could hear your tummy rumbling during our game.” She noted before shuffling off towards the kitchen. Arthur flushed.

“Oh. My apologies, I-“

“Parker.” Arthur’s head swiveled towards the sound of her voice. “Do wash up before coming to the table.”

“Yes, Marie.” Arthur sighed, and as soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, he sunk back into his chair.

“She’s right, you know.” John chimed in suddenly, causing Arthur to chuckle.

“About which part? Needing a meal or needing a wash?”

“Both, I’m sure.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “But I know you haven’t eaten in quite some time. Your stomach was making a lot of noise.”

As if responding to John’s mention of it, Arthur’s stomach grumbled, and he winced as he slid his hand from his chest to rest idly on his belly.

“I was hoping you two were ignoring it…” He murmured sourly, as if his being hungry had been a secret he didn’t want to get out. “But I suppose I’ve been ignoring it enough my own. God, when did I last eat?”

John thought for a moment. “I think it must have been in Poughkeepsie. You stopped at that pizzeria.”

“Yes! Oh, that pizza was divine.” His stomach rumbled again under his palm, the talk of food stirring his appetite. “And I was planning to eat dinner on the train to the city, but then, the Butcher…”

“…Yes.” John ended the thought, not allowing it to go further than that. “That was two days ago, Arthur.”

“Was it really?” Arthur suddenly sat upright from his slouch. “With everything that happened, it feels like it’s been a week.”

“A very long week.” John agreed. “You really should try to eat more often, Arthur. I know you’ve moved on to Larson and The Order but, you’re still weak from The Pits.”

Arthur shuddered and stood up suddenly, starting towards the stairs.

“I’ve been trying to-”

“Left.”

Arthur turned, finding the railing and using it to support himself as he climbed up the steps.

“Thank you. As I was saying,” Arthur was already winded. “I’ve been trying to eat more often, but it feels like whenever we’re in the thick of something like this, it’s always the last thing on my mind.” Arthur paused for a moment at the top landing, but didn’t dare let himself linger for more than a moment before he shoved off into the bathroom. “Perhaps that’s why I enjoyed our time traveling so much, albeit brief.”

“What do you mean?” John questioned as Arthur shut the bathroom door and ran the shower, undoing his tie as he waited for the water to heat up.

“Well… I suppose it was just the first time since all this began where I had the chance to, pay attention to my needs.” Arthur’s voice echoed pleasantly off the bathroom tiles. He began unbuttoning his shirt, and John’s hand sprung to help him. “I’ve been fighting and running for months, and as soon as I wasn’t entirely consumed with fear or rage or grief, so after we left Addison, really… I had the chance to feel everything else. How hungry I was, how tired I was, how badly I wanted a shower.” He chuckled, testing a hand in the water before slipping his undergarments off and stepping under the stream.

“It just felt nice to be able to take care of myself.” Arthur began scrubbing vigorously at his skin with a bar of soap. “And I hope after all this business with the order is over I can… Return to some sort of normal routine.”

Arthur sighed with relief as he stepped under the warm water to wash the soap off, positively relishing the feeling. “And call me spoiled all you want, but I truly miss having my own bath.”

As Arthur lowered his head to wet his hair under the water, John took the opportunity to survey his body. John was responsible for every one of the wounds he could see; every single scar, the fresh bullet wound in his shoulder, the pinky he was missing. He was well aware of just how much Arthur had been hurt in their time together: He’d been there with him for all of it. It almost seemed like he couldn’t go a day without a brush with death, and all of those encounters had left a mark, be it physical or mental. But John was often guilty of overlooking just how much everything else had been hurting Arthur this entire time. His lack of sleep, proper hygiene, and perhaps most glaringly upon looking at his body: His lack of a proper diet.

Arthur was thin. That in and of itself wan’t new, Arthur had been thin since John first laid eyes on him, hence why he was so hesitant to believe the man actually had the capability to physically intimidate someone like he had earlier today. And as much as Arthur didn’t like thinking about it, the effect of three months of starvation was just as evident on his body as his scars. He was pale, and his paper-thin skin was stretched taut over bones and a frankly pathetic layer of muscle. His knees were knobby, his arms were twiggy, his stomach was nearly caved in. Sometimes John wondered how Arthur even had the energy to get through the hurdles they’d overcome, because he was consistently running on so little.

And that was John’s fault too.

“I’m… Sorry, Arthur.” Arthur tilted his head as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.

“Sorry for what?” Arthur asked, closing his eyes as he stuck his face in the water.

“For…” John sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. “Not properly taking your needs into account.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he reached out to shut the water off. “John, if you’re trying to apologize for how long it’s been since I’ve had a proper shower-“

“No, it’s not that, though you do complain about it a lot…” John rumbled. “I just… It’s hard for me to grasp, the constant attention you pay to things like hygiene and eating and sleeping-“

“Well it’s because I need to do all those things to survive, John.” Arthur said matter-of-factly, throwing a towel over his head and scrubbing his hair dry. “And it’s not exactly fun for me to, be without.”

“I know, I know.” John held his tongue. He wasn’t going to snap at Arthur right now. “I know it hurts you, but I don’t, know what you’re feeling exactly. I’ve never been hungry, or tired-“

“No need to brag about it.” Arthur grumbled as he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower to tame his hair.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say.” John huffed. “I know you bear the brunt of, the adversity we face. This is your body after all, and after millennia of never having to stop to sleep or eat or even consider the concept of bathing myself, I have trouble adjusting to, living life at a human pace. I know you have to stop to regain your energy but in that time, I have to stop too. And it can be… frustrating, because I still fail to conceptualize what being hungry or sleep-deprived is like, and therefore it is hard for me to grasp your need to stop for food or rest.” John was rambling. He had to get to his point before he inevitably dug himself some sort of hole. “What I’m trying to say is, I can see the toll it all takes on you. The starvation, the sleepless nights. You shouldn’t be as, deprived as you are, and it’s partly my fault. I know we’re in the middle of something far bigger than both of us right now, and we’re both focused on it. But I should still be making sure you’re, taking care of yourself. We shouldn’t both be neglecting what your body needs.”

Arthur blinked, and set his comb down on the edge of the sink. And, leaning forward, he looked into his own eyes in the mirror: Even though he was blind, it was as if he was looking directly at John, and John was staring right back at his face.

“When I was in college, I had a massive paper due in two days.” Not the response John had expected. “I hadn’t started it at all. It was a research paper, I needed sources, it had to be thirty pages: It was an absolute monster of an assignment and I had a weekend to do it. So, I buckled down. I locked myself in my room and only came out to make myself coffee. Getting up and making the coffee as opposed to the coffee itself is probably what kept me awake that entire time. Though I was still quite jittery…” Arthur chuckled. “Anyways, I stayed up the entire weekend to write that paper. I refused to eat, sleep or speak to anyone. My head stayed completely in the books. But I remember being so tired I kept falling asleep at my desk and smacking my head on the table, I could barely keep my eyes open for some of it and when I could, I just felt like I was in a haze… Every part of me just felt so, heavy. Everything was telling me to crawl into bed but I just didn’t let myself. I did find that being that hungry does have a way of keeping you awake, but only because it’s incredibly difficult to sleep on an empty stomach. When you’re that hungry, and doing work that requires all of your brainpower, it felt like whenever I stopped thinking about the task at hand I was thinking about food. And that’s to say nothing of how much my stomach was aching, or how dizzy I was whenever I stood up. Compared to what we’ve been through since it seems quite tame really… But, I do have a habit of pushing my needs to the wayside when something needs to get done. I get a sort of, tunnel vision, as you know.”

“I’m well aware.” John confirmed. “But, why did you tell me that story?”

“To help you better conceptualize what it’s like. All the human things you’re not used to.” Arthur paused. “And because you’re right. If I’m to get us both around we can’t both ignore my body. If it gives out, I think we’re just about screwed.”

John chuckled, relief flooding through him as he did so. Arthur wasn’t mad. “I’m glad you agree. I can’t say I envy your position… Did you finish your paper?”

“Yes, but as soon as I was done I ate the biggest breakfast I’d ever had and passed out for fourteen hours, completely missing the deadline to turn it in.”

John laughed, fully this time. It was loud and long and filled Arthur’s entire head. “Well, I think you’re long overdue for something to eat by now. Finish washing up for dinner.”

“Right, right.” Arthur said excitedly, scrambling to get his clothes back on. “I do promise it’s not all bad though. I understand your point of being frustrated with having to stop, hence my story.” Arthur slipped his belt on. John had helped him poke extra holes in it. “But, some of the best sleep is had after an especially tiring day; and they say hunger is the best seasoning. Taking care of oneself doesn’t just mean it needs to get done, it should also be enjoyed. Warm baths, proper meals, one cannot live on bread alone.”

“I understand. You really are spoiled.” John said pointedly. “Your tie is crooked.”

“Oh, shut up.” Arthur rolled his eyes and adjusted his tie. “You’re just jealous I’m about to enjoy a delicious meal and talk to someone other than you for awhile.”

“Perhaps.” John said flatly as Arthur exited the bathroom and made his way back down the steps. The smell of cooking had filled the entire downstairs, and in an instant, Arthur’s appetite roared to life like a rekindled fire. He was sure didn’t need to explain to John how hungry he was at the moment: He certainly heard his stomach grumbling.

“I hope you’re hungry, Parker.” Marie called from the dining room, where she was laying out table settings for the both of them. Arthur followed her voice into the room and nodded.

“You have no idea.” She didn’t really.

“Well then. I’ve made my roasted chicken, potatoes and greens. One of Albert’s favorites. Take a seat, it’ll be out of the oven in a moment.”

“You don’t need any help?” Arthur asked, polite as always.

“No no dear, I have it covered.” Marie waved him off as she disappeared back into the kitchen to retrieve the food.

“Sit down.” John demanded. “Take it easy while you can, Arthur.”

“Well now, you adapt quickly.” Arthur sat.

“We have a big night ahead. You deserve all the rest you can get.”

“If you insist. Y’know, I think I can get used to this kind of treatment…” Arthur snickered as he folded his napkin in his lap.

“Don’t push it.”

“Here we are.” Marie proclaimed as she set the serving dish in the center of the table. Arthur wished he could see it, because it certainly smelled good. John got the hint.

“Arthur, she’s brought out a heap of well-seasoned red potatoes mixed with roasted chicken and greens.” John then blanked, unsure of how to describe the food further than what it was. He didn’t know what it tasted like, or what the texture was like.

But his brief description seemed to be enough to stir Arthur into immediately reaching for the serving spoon as soon as Marie was sat down. She got to it before he did, and picked it up to whack his hand away.

“Ow!”

“We say grace in this household, Parker.”

“Oh… My apologies.” John’s hand rubbed Arthur’s, but quickly folded together and came to rest on the table as Marie bowed her head.

“Bless us oh Lord, for health and food, for love and friends, for everything thy goodness sends. Amen.”

“Amen.” Arthur muttered after a short pause, loosely making the sign of the cross and letting Marie take her serving first. He let John scoop a heaping serving onto his plate, and he dug in as soon as his fork was in his hand.

Arthur moaned around his first bite, going in for a second before he was even through chewing the first. Once he was a couple bites in and had the good sense to breathe, John spoke up.

“Describe it to me.”

“What?” Arthur whispered, taking another bite.

“Describe how it tastes. How it smells. I’m curious, you have two senses that I have no experience with, and I’d like to know how one goes about describing food.”

“But, I- Marie…”

“Yes?” Marie questioned from across the table, hearing her name. Arthur sighed.

“Marie.” He addressed her clearly, setting his fork down. “This food is… Outstanding. The chicken is tender and chewy, the potatoes are crispy and tasty on the outside, and soft on the inside… The greens are seasoned perfectly. All of it is, the garlic and herbs bring everything together wonderfully. I knew I was in for a treat as soon as I came downstairs and smelled this, savory medley…” Both John and Marie were listening to Arthur closely. His voice was quiet, sounding almost on the verge of breaking. Arthur managed to keep it steady. “This is truly one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time. Thank you so much, for having me.”

There was silence for a moment. Arthur heard Marie set her own fork down.

“She’s smiling, Arthur.”

“It’s a pleasure to be able to cook for someone who enjoys it so much.” Arthur smiled back. “I’ve found that good food can heal most woes, especially when paired with good company. So thank you Parker.”

“No really, thank you Marie, you have no idea how much I-“

“Clear your plate, Parker.” She interrupted before he could get carried away.

“Right.” He responded, looking back down and diving back into his food.

And for the first time, both Arthur and John enjoyed a good meal.

[lucidstarlet]

If your favorite podcast(s) had a catchphrase, what would it be?

[hellofromthehallowoods]

"I'm still deciding whether to listen to The Silt Verses or Malevolent or Hello From The Hallowoods or relisten to TMA again, what do I do?” 

Alright. I suggest start with Malevolent, because it’s going to be a relatively short listen through and the fandom is super active. Episodes come out every couple of weeks, which means it’s not too hard to stay current. Prepare for a grittier tone than TMA, and a brilliant writer’s take on the Lovecraft universe minus the racism and misogyny. 

Then try The Silt Verses, which is boldly different from the others. Unlike the rest, you’ll actually be able to finish this one, because there’s two released seasons and a third and final season due later this year. Lots of body horror, unanswered prayers and religious trauma in this indie art film of a story. 

Hello From The Hallowoods is already quite lengthy and releases a new episode every week, so it’s more of an undertaking. Great places to pause are between seasons (E48, where a bunch of plot-relevant bonus episodes show up, and again at E96, same deal). Light on gore, but heavy on exploring homophobia and queer issues. 

I’ll always commend listening to new shows rather than revisiting the same old, (especially when shows like @hinaypod @somewhereohio, @jarofrebukepodcast, @mabelpodcast, Parkdale Haunt, and many more exist for your perusal) but I suspect the best time to revisit your TMA nostalgia will be when the inevitable re-listen parties and events start leading up to the release of The Magnus Protocol. 

[altbery]

I know, i know. the podcast tags are filled to the brim with recommendation requests (rec-reqs!) and im about to add mine to the pile. but bear with me bc its a bit different-- I want FINSIHED podcasts please !!! i dont mind if its long or short and sweet, I want completed stories with completed character arcs and closed endings pretty pretty please

I am consuming podcasts at a worrying rate and I've resorted to relistening to my old favorites bc my current favorites are still ongoing. and i want to binge!! i hate having the story live in my brain for months/years while waiting for the ending.

more info under the cut

for context, my fav podcasts:

wolf 359 (!!!), wtnv, tma, red valley (just caught up), woe.begone, mabel, time:bombs, alice isnt dead

--

ive also listened to (but havent finished):

eos 10, within the wires, malevolent, the black tapes, wooden overcoats, the bright sessions, old gods of appalachia, kaleidotrope, the penumbra pod, the orbitting human circus, the strange case of starship iris

--

some pods im aware of but havent seen/looked up yet:

ars paradoxica, zero hours, i am in eskew, limetown, archive 81, camp here and there, hello from the hallowoods, stellar firma, find us alive, the white vault, the sheridan tapes, the silt verses, the amelia project

--

PS. as a rule, please dont recommend me any actual play or rpg like adventure zone, rqgaming, etc... and dont rec anything ONLY because it has queer rep. dont get me wrong i love the rep! but i want a good story first and foremost!

[dolly-is-cool]

the bracelets!!! categories include: the podcasts, miscellaneous fandoms & music, and random.

[yourfaveiskenough]

John Doe and Arthur Lester from Malevolent Podcast are Kenough <3

John Doe and Arthur Lester from Malevolent are Kenough!

[miskapestek]

I'm participating in @fandomtrumpshate auction! For a donation to one of the non-profits I'll create a gift for you.

Fanart

I'm offering fanart for Malevolent and Hello From The Hallowoods. Here are some examples of my work:

Typesetting

You can also bid on my typesetting work for any fandom. You can get a digital book or a magazine like these:

I'll reblog with a link to the auction!

[mallowmelon]

The podcast eye boys celebrate Cecil's victory.

Congratulations Cecil!

[tryanmybest]

arthur: *fucking dying for probably the fifth time*

kayne: mipha's grace is now ready

[delusional-cryptid]

Since I finally finished my sketchbook here’s some highlights :)

I blame the Crow for my new podcast blorbos…

(The last one is under the cut bc it looks AWESOME but it has a significant amount of blood/gore and self harm imagery)

:]

[thesouthernpansy]

the comforting illusion of forward momentum (1/3)

(here on ao3) words: 1,024

The paper falls away under Arthur’s hands, strangely soft, as if left out in the rain and not quite dried.

“Arthur, what is it?”

“It’s…a book.” Slick, dark leather, worn bone-smooth but for the edges of embossing under his fingertips. A title, maybe?

“A book? Is it something to do with the case?”

“The case,” echoes Arthur dimly. Behind him, his partner stops his aimless pacing, his voice and the smell of burnt coffee and the bitter grey cast of another Sunday morning. Behind him the scattershot spread of case files on his desk. Today and yesterday and the day before, the same burnt coffee and the same grey morning. The same case, the same files.

The same files. 

What do they say?

Arthur stands in the doorway and slips a thumb under the seam of the paper-wrapped package. In the office, his partner is finishing up the clattering process of making himself coffee. Arthur can smell it burning. Weak, milky sunlight bleeds in through the slats of the blinds, the stolid New England promise of oncoming rain.

“Arthur?”

“Were you expecting a delivery?”

“Not as far as I know. It’s addressed to me?”

“Ah, wait. No, actually, it looks like there’s been some mistake.” The name on the label is a familiar shape on Arthur’s tongue, a detail in a dream already half consigned to oblivion.

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s a book.”

“A book?”

The spine bends itself to Arthur’s palm like something that wants to be held. It’s weighty beyond its size, dense with strange, thick pages that part readily under his touch.

“It looks like—I don’t know, it’s not in any language I recognize.”

“Don’t just stand there being ominous, bring it in, already.”

Uncertainty tugs at the corner of Arthur’s mind, forgotten panic fighting to pull itself back to the forefront, picking at the edges of something that’s already unraveling.

“Arthur?”

“Yes, I—yes, alright.”

“Jesus, this thing’s kinda creepy looking, huh?”

Arthur turns away from the window, grimacing through a mouthful of bitter coffee. Something about the light is giving him a headache.

“Give it back, then.”

His partner laughs, good-natured. “No need to get touchy, I didn’t mean to make fun. You’re getting into some weird shit these days, though.”

“I told you, it isn’t mine.”

“What is this, Latin?” He clears his throat. “Ahf' ymg' ah, ahf’ ymg’ ah?”

A high, whining pressure takes up in Arthur’s ears. He shakes his head as though to clear it; it’s like moving through treacle, his body responding on numb delay.

“Mgah'ehye ya ph'nglui, ymg' mgahnnn lloig l' ya.”

The pressure grows, heady resonance that digs at the roots of Arthur’s molars like brittle fingernails. He grits his teeth until it feels like they might crack. His partner reads on obliviously, a low muffled drone, stripped clean of jest, deep and drawn and cold.

“Mgah'n'ghft ya ymg' gn'bthnknyth, mgah'n'ghft ya ahh l' ymg' ch'nglui'ahog.”

Sickly weightlessness, a cold lurching in Arthur’s stomach as the floor drops away and an impossible spiraling blackness rushes in. A vast echo of the starry expanding infinite, singing with unbounded longing, a loneliness—a hunger—beyond enduring. A siren call, an invitation: pure, limitless nothingness, a void without end.

Aren’t you tired? Doesn’t it hurt?

Arthur hears it and aches.

There is a hazy line where Arthur ends and the inertia of gravity begins, the density of stars in his marrow. The exhaustion of years catches up to him like a tidal wave, a rushing moment of overwhelming panic and then—the glittering, specious calm. Far easier to accept than to fight, to breathe deep and forget. To let it in. To drown—

“Yog nog, yog nog, ahagl ymg' ah.”

The pain in Arthur’s head is a sudden, sharp blade, splitting his skull in neat halves. He can hear laughter, somewhere very far away, low coiling laughter like rising tendrils of smoke. It isn’t his partner’s voice, isn’t his own, is barely familiar a creature enough to be called laughter in the first place, but Arthur can feel it in his throat, on his tongue, in his pounding head. Ripples of a terrible mirth just beyond his comprehension, and beyond the pain the fleeting image of a stark violet coast, a dark, receding sea.

Arthur snaps the book shut and turns it over in his hands. He has the curious sense of having walked in from another room and forgotten why, and there’s a lump in his throat, as if he’s been crying.

“Arthur, are you sure you don’t know what that book is?”

“Of course I’m sure. What is that supposed to mean?”

“You just look kind of spooked all of a sudden, that’s all. Pale.”

Guilt bites at him, and Arthur sighs, massaging his temple against an incipient headache. “I—I’m just tired, I think. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“When have you ever,” snorts his partner. His concern returns almost at once, voice softening as he leans in. “Hey, is it the nightmare again?”

“John—” It comes out in a hiss, a warning, because John knows better.

A beat like the unraveling of a knot, tension hightening and then falling apart.

“Oh,” says his partner thoughtfully. “I see.”

“And what exactly is it that you see?” asks Arthur tightly.

“Nothing,” John assures him. “It was a bad joke, forget it. What did you say that book was?”

“I didn’t,” says Arthur, “did I? In any case I’m not sure, I can’t make heads or tails of the thing.”

“Bring it here.”

Arthur leans by John against the edge of his desk, a hand at his elbow drawing him closer. They bend their heads together over the page in a shared hushed, almost reverent, curiosity. The sharp, cramped script swims in Arthur’s mind, somehow at once enticingly alien and intimately familiar— a mouthful of honey, the bankless night sky. Arthur feels a flush of anticipation in his chest, excitement laced with a strange thrilling fear.

“Should I read it?”

John hmms lowly, reaching, his fingers ghosting over Arthur’s and obscuring the text from view.

“Is this how it happened?”

translations:

Who are you, what are you?

Let me in, open your mind to me.

Show me your heart, show me how to break you.

Come out come out wherever you are

[thetomorrowshow]

hello malevolent podcast fandom. i have listened to the first 6 episodes.

[zurdurer]

Hello tumblr malevolent fandom I have another but this time it's coda :))

ID in alt text!!

[hellofromthehallowoods]

Your loyal host is about to start in an actual play one-shot called Salty Dogs! Hard-knit communities sail on the oceans in the aftermath of a godpocalypse, and one pirate sets out to kill god. It'll be a storm to remember!

Coming 8PM Wednesday the 12th of June to Harlan Guthrie's Invictus Stream!

[teejaystumbles]

Hello, this is my first time drawing Malevolent fanart! DTIYS for @mx-paisley's great art! There's so many great artists in this fandom ❤️ (I usually only draw Sandman art and only lurk in the malevolent tag so none of you know me😅)

I gave John an Imperial Moth cloak :3 I made that sun in the background into an eye because, uh, he's Arthur's eyes? but he's also always being watched? you know? sth like that. He's being very contemplative, about what he can control...

Also did you know that seeing yellow moths or butterflies apparently signifies that you should listen to your inner voice and finally take that leap and stop putting off hard decisions? MH? WaS SOEMone gOING to tell me or did I have to fIND oUT BY MYSELF-

*goes feral drops mic*

[duckduckngoose]

MALEVOLENT FANDOM SURVEY

Hi hello there! I am running a survey to see what popular characters/episodes/just-a-lot-of-stuff are in the Malevolent fandom.

The survey should take between 5-10 minutes to take, and all the questions are skip-able if you do not wish to answer them.

The survey will be run from 1/05/2024 to 08/05/2024. The results should be released a week after the survey ends.

The results, and all additional information/updates/questions on the survey will be in the #malevolentsurvey2024 tag on my blog!

SURVEY LINK: https://forms.gle/YUg7jhthfurSowwz7

REBLOGS ARE HUGELY APPRECIATED! I rely on them a lot to spread the survey and get more accurate results!