#im drawing those damn lizards AGAIN

[vezdeshashiy]

uhhh

my headcannon for qymaen jai sheelal (aka general grievous) pre-cyborg design

idk if he had a canon design, i remember a face reveal but i dont know if there was a hair reveal. anyways i think he has long hair i guess.

[damienthepious]

no lizard this tuesday. have some pre-canon rilla/damien smoochin and discussion of [checks notes] uh death!!! it’s fun!!! im stress’d

No Aching Necessary

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Tuesday, Established Relationship, (im POSTING this for LKT but i won't put it in the tag because arum ain't here.), (maybe if i ever pin down a follow up for this feat. the lizard? perhaps.), self-sacrificing idiot vibes, Mild Suicidal Ideation, Pre-Canon, Communication, discussions of uhhhh death

Summary: Sir Damien feels love like self-immolation. Rilla feels a little bit differently about it.

Notes: I've had this idea for a while, because Sir Damien is nothing if not dramatic, and sir "self sacrifice is a knightly virtue!" seemed like the type to say this particular phrase on repeat. Basically just wanted to unpack all that I guess?? anywayyyy no thoughts brain scrampled egg. also this may have a part two someday? maybe? idk. there's potential.

~

Love, for Sir Damien, feels...

Eternal, and holy, and sacrificial. As in, it sounds of yet another litany in his mind, alongside the song of prayer to Saint Damien, alongside pleas for Tranquility, alongside fear and doubt and fortitude. I love you becomes too big for itself, it transforms, rather quickly, into-

"I would die for you."

Rilla stares at him the first time he says it, furrowing her brow, her dark eyes filled with concern. He kisses her frowning lips, gentle and aching, and when she kisses back her grip is possessive, firm, sturdy, and Damien melts against her as easy as wax beneath the flame.

The second time it bubbles out of him in helpless delight. She rolls her eyes and squeezes his hand almost too hard as she pulls him along to the next booth at the festival, distracting him with games and laughter until the throbbing of his heart eases into something more like joy.

The third time she only says I'll see you tomorrow, Damien, and glares hard at his back as he returns to the Citadel.

The fourth time he presses their bodies together and breathes it against her lips and-

She rolls him onto his back, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip and making him squeak and gasp, and when she pulls back she presses one hand to each of his shoulders, and the fury on her face is nearly thunderous.

"What's that thing you keep calling me, Damien?" she asks, inarguable and stern.

Damien blinks, panting as he stares up at her in confusion and desire and, suddenly, rising worry.

"Wh-what?"

"What is it that you call me? That romantic, poetic little name you have," she repeats, moving one hand from his shoulder to his neck, thumbing at his pulse.

"I…" Damien swallows, feeling her hand against the column of his throat. "M-my- my forever-flower?" he tries, his voice weak and wavering, and Rilla's eyes flash as the hand on his shoulder squeezes.

"If I'm yours," she says, her dark eyes utterly serious, her gaze inescapable, "your flower, then you're mine, Damien."

"Always," Damien breathes, and she blinks for half a heartbeat, apparently not expecting his easy (eager) acquiescence.

She shifts even closer, her voice lowering in both volume and tone. "You're mine," she says again. "And I intend to keep you, for as long as I am physically capable."

"A-ah." Damien's heart thuds, some delicious thrill at the idea of being kept. That she would- that she does want him, that she wants him enough to say things like that-

"Which means," she continues, her palm still warm against his throat as her other hand sinks into his hair, her nails tickling his scalp, "you need to stick around to be mine. I don't wanna hear you say anything like that to me. Understand?"

"But... but it's true, my love. I would die for-"

"You'd better not," she growls - growls, her eyes flashing, and a delicious shiver runs down Damien's spine - and her grip on his hair tightens, carefully angling his face up so that he looks her in the eye. "I want you, I love you, and I don't want anything to do with you dying."

"Rilla..." Damien swallows, looking down and away for a moment before he meets Rilla's eye again, hesitant. "You know, of course... I am a knight, my love, my flower. Each day, each mission is a risk. I take those risks willingly, knowing that I face potential fatality for the sake of my Saint and my Citadel. And, now... for you."

Rilla frowns hard, and then she kisses him harder, her hands firm and inarguable in his hair and on his neck for one long, searing moment before she pulls away again, and some of that righteousness on her face fades, her brow creased with distress.

"There's a difference between understanding the mortality rate of your career and you, apropos of nothing, claiming that you wanna throw your dead body at my feet, Damien. It's not romantic, it's not comforting, and I don't want to hear you say it. Why would you think that I would want to hear you say that? No one is asking you to die for me. I want you. I love you. And I can't fucking love you if you're dead, and especially not if you're dead for no goddamn reason."

"I never said-" Damien pants, his words slipping from his mind like trying to snatch a ribbon from the current of a river. "Not for no reason, it isn't as if-"

"Would you want me to say that?" she says, her voice almost- almost keening, beneath her frustration. "Do you want me to be eager to die for you?"

Damien lifts his hands, gripping Rilla's sides as if to keep her there.

"There is no reason whatsoever for you to even consider-"

"You can't know that for sure. Neither of us can. It isn't just your job that's dangerous Damien, it's the whole damn world. So, what if I do? What if I want to die for you, too? Does that make you feel good about our relationship?"

"I- well, I-"

"Does it make you feel good to think about me dying for you, or does it make you feel terrified?"

Terrified. Needless to say.

Needless, of course; Rilla's glare eases at the look on his face, at the way he freezes beneath her hands like startled prey.

"Exactly," she says, muted and gentle, and then she draws her hand through his hair, her other raising enough to cup his jaw. "I know... I know that being a knight is dangerous. I know because of how many times I've had to put one back together. Even just by how many times I've had to put you back together, even. I know- I know, intellectually, that losing you-"

She pauses, her breath doing something strange, her dark eyes too bright, suddenly.

"Rilla..."

She scowls as he wraps his arms around her middle. "I know it's a possibility. I know it's- likely, even," she says more fiercely. "But that doesn't mean I want to hear you say it, and it doesn't mean I want you to sound so goddamn eager to die. Got it?"

"I'm- I'm not- I don't-"

Eagerness does not come into it. Damien knows, though-

Damien knows what Rilla knows. As she has just quietly, sadly confirmed. The life of a knight is risk, inherent. More accurately, the life of a knight is sacrifice: his own safety in exchange for the protection of the citizens of the Citadel. The same exchange Sir Damien promised, in his heart, so many years ago to his Saint. It is likely, extremely likely, that Sir Damien will die in the service of his Saint and his Citadel.

And Rilla-

Rilla. Kneeling above him, curled down to place her forehead against his own, holding his face in her hands.

He would die for her. His heart aches for her, resounds like a bell in his chest, and he would die for her just as readily as he would die for his Saint, or his Queen. That is what she means to him, her equivalent place in his heart, what she does to him. He-

She bites his collarbone, sharp and sudden, and Damien yelps.

"Rilla!"

"You were thinking it again," she mutters, darkly, and then she kisses that same spot, feather light. "I just- I love you too much to hear you care so little about yourself." She lifts her face towards his, then, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Please. If you love me-"

"I do. My love for you burns like a wildfire, races like a waterfall, it fills me like-"

"Then you have to look out for yourself too, because I love you. And- and I can't always be there to watch your back and patch you back up. It's important to me that you're not- not trying to destroy yourself to prove a point about how much you-"

"Never," Damien breathes. He holds her a little tighter, then reaches to draw his hand through her hair. "No, that isn't... that isn't what I meant. I acknowledge the- the mortality rate, as you called it, but- but I hope, at least, to die nobly in my purpose. There would be no such end in reckless inattention to my safety. I swear."

Rilla frowns - nearly pouts, perhaps - and then she sighs as she bumps the tip of her nose into his cheek. "Alright. Okay. Thank you for... for listening. I know how- how much you feel, it's just- I can't do that. I can't hear you say that, especially not- not like you're saying it instead of... I just can't. Okay?"

"I understand," Damien says. "I will try to... to find more agreeable - less distressing, rather - ways in which to express my adoration."

Uncertain, whether or not he will be able to banish the thought from his mind, however. Occasionally it blinds him, when he looks at her, the breathlessness of his love, the need to protect and worship and bend himself to her merest desire-

But-

She desires, in no mere way, for him to be safe and whole, and holding her.

It still roils within him like a tempest, like waves and rocks and thunder, love like roaring and electricity.

But for her-

(Tranquility)

Sir Damien kisses her brow, kisses her neck, kisses her nose to make her wrinkle it and laugh.

Rilla loves him: miracle. Rilla loves him, like blankets and safety and hearth. Like sunshine, and laughing wind.

The soldier sings of death, as it walks ever by his side, but home- home will not abide such talk while the soldier rests inside.

He purses his lips. Unpolished, not without potential-

"I guess that's one way to think about it," Rilla murmurs, her cheeks a little dark, and Damien starts with the realization that he spoke aloud.

"Er- ah, well-"

"You really think of me as-" she pauses, bites her lip, then meets his eye again. "As... home?"

Damien exhales, overwhelmed by the strangely shy pleasure on Rilla's face, and then he tips his face up to capture her lips in another kiss.

"I do," he breathes, and then he kisses her again. "My forever-flower, my love... my home. Of course, my home."

"It- I think of you that way too," she whispers, and then she closes her eyes. "That's... why, I think. That's why it's hard for me to hear you say things like that. I know bad things happen, I know that homes- I know that things break. I just... don't like the reminder, I guess. I don't need it. I already learned that lesson too many times, y'know?"

Amaryllis of Exile looks down at him with a hesitant smile, her hand on his cheek scented vaguely of mint and smoke. Damien knows, yes. He knows what she has lost. He kisses her again, gentle and precious.

He loves her, and he knows that she loves him. So brave a love, in fact, that she will hold him and know she may lose him, and she will love him all the more fiercely in response.

[philosophicalparadox]

Dark Headcannons for the Demon Bois, part 2.a : Physiological Adaptations and Defense Mechanisms (physical)

I continue this ideology with more horror HC's (kind of) detailing some of the physiology and physical defenses of our boys - HOWEVER there is quite a bit of science invested in this particular post, so there's a little explaining to do first.

Note: I have removed Iblis from the list for the next few rounds because we really dont know anything about her, and I've also removed Egyn because I have zero idea what kind of adaptations he has since no one's ever seen his body. Azazel is floating in kind of the same boat. We seen his clones, but not him, and we have only really seen two of his kin - from that alone its hard to tell. We haven't even seen Beelzebub except in Gehenna, and for all we know they are stuck there. Im basing all this off hypothetical and mythological sources as well as my knowledge of animal and human anatomy.

Onward!

But first! (Yep, scientific Exposition Time Baby! I promise it won't be long) Something that strikes me odd is that all demons seem to be stronger physically than their non possessed counterparts, and so for the sake of not repeating myself where unessessary, we will assume this is due to increased muscular density, as a default which is the same thing that allows much smaller primates to be much stronger than ourselves.

However, be aware that there are MANY factors that influence physical strength alone - efficiency of respiration, bodily waste management (aka, kidney and liver function) and efficiency of metabolic processes (digestive system, pancreas, and again liver). I'll touch on all these things in their own right, but just to let you know, everything is interconnected.

Onward!

Samael

Is, in everyday scenarios, about 7x stronger than the average human. In times of high adrenaline that can shoot up to 10, due to possessing a unique respiratory system, detailed below.

Samael has a physique designed to be an ambush predator, with a body that puts nothing to waste, but he is also built for bursts of speed and agility, both skills vital for his hunting strategy type, detailed in part one, to be effective. Standing out in a crowd may lull prey into a false sense of security, but it also draws a lot of attention from competitors, as well as parasitic predators like Chuchi and Coltars.

Samael is a demon often depicted with avian wings, and for his body to put out the strength it does and be able to at least glide requires an avian-modeled respiratory system. In other words he breathes with lungs, but has additional air sacs in his chest and abdomen to draw as much oxygen from the air as possible. For a demon optimized for bursts of speed and high agility, being able to metabolize large amounts of oxygen very quickly is vital.

More vital still though is having the kidneys and liver to be able to handle it. I suspect he would have a lobed liver akin to a rabbit, and kidneys much like a cat. Technically speaking, if he eats right, he never actually has to drink any water. His kidneys are that efficient.

Now onto the fun one: bones. High density muscles put out huge forces on the bones they are attached to. There are two ways to fix that: make the bone harder and denser, or make the bone softer and flexible with cartilage. Samael does the former. The most efficient way to have denser bones without adding weight is to make them hollow, at the sacrifice of not having much bone marrow. This works out perfectly though, since to metabolize high rates of oxygen you need specialized red blood cells with lots and lots of hemoglobin, and hollow bones allow for the production of just enough of these cells.

Now that the basics are out of the way, Samael has some other unique adaptations, including a ratcheted tendon system in his forearms, like those found in raptors. This gives him a virtually unbreakable, iron-strong grip from which escape is virtually impossible. Combine that with talon-like claws and long fingers that can really dig in, and you're screwed from the word "go".

Making that escape even more impossible is his highly flexible joints, which make twisting out of his grasp before he has a chance to bite damn near unheard of. Remember, it only takes one bite to kill. If he catches you, you're dead already.

As far as defensive abilities go, Samael hasn't got any besides evasion. So much of his body is devoted to being a specialist that there isnt any room for special physical defenses - in fact his hollow bones, while very good at handling internal stresses, are no less brittle than a birds when it comes to some external forces. A sledgehammer to the side of his thigh (impact) would absolutely shatter his femur bone, though he can land on his feet from a great height (compression) and barely bruise.

Lucifer

Is maybe 5x stronger than the average human, on a really good day. He has a bit of muscle, but he is a magic user, not a berserker. On his bad days he can dip below a 1.

Physically he isn't too different from a human mostly, other than having an ultra efficient heart and lungs that are 20% larger to compensate for his increased muscle density.

Except that he has very strange cells. To all appearance his body is mostly human, but one look under the microscope would tell you instantly that something is odd about this duck, because his cells have tiny crystals in them. These crystals are of unknown composition, but they are thought to assist with fluorescence, or the production of the stuff mentioned below.

Also odd about his cells is that they're filled with an almost cellulose like substance instead of normal cytoplasm. Its a bit denser and is THE most heat resistant organic substance on earth. It also makes his cells completely immune to all forms of radiation - this boy could literally survive a nuclear explosion as long as he was in a shelter where he couldn't be impacted by debris or the shockwave. Heat and radiation from it would be like a sunburn at worst.

However, he is not fireproof. While this substance is resistant to heat, it is not resistant to oxidation, so it WILL burn. Not well, and not fast, but it will burn.

Which leads me to the fact that he has some very unique organelles. Multiple types of mitochondria, Golgi bodies and ribosomes help manufacture the weirdness.

Part of that weirdness is of unknown deadliness though. When fully charged up, the light he emits contains dangerous wavelengths, and further study has yet to be done on whether and what types of radiation he may emit. It is known that his dense cytoplasmic substance can hold onto nuclear radiation, but does so very briefly.

As far as defenses go, he does actually have a pretty interesting, but accidental one, for the dense cytoplasmic substance of his cells naturally permeates into his blood plasma. This substance is extremely bitter and even potentially toxic at high enough doses. A mouthful of Lucifer's blood is enough to induce severe nausea, vomiting, cramping of the intestines (colic), and if swallowed, diarrhoea.

The strange substance of his cells also mediates the use of Elixir that is specific to himself. Elixir used for other purposes are rejects of the ones formulated just for him, and are effective at treating a wide variety of things.

On a related but unrelated note, though, the elixir has nasty side effects on humans and demons alike, often triggering the onset of various cancers and cysts, though it's not clear why this happens to some and not others. It is not known why Lucifer is seemingly immune to these side effects, but he could, potentially, be immune to cancer altogether.

Amaimon

Amaimon is a fucking draft horse, with a baseline strength of 9x that of a human. That's somewhere slightly above a pissed off gorilla and/or an attacking tiger, for reference. In high adrenalized mode, that number shoots up to a 12, which is about as high as biology will let anything go, courtesy square cube law.

His muscles are SO dense and heavy, in fact, that he is incapable of floating in water. He also isn't very fast for long distances. He has high stamina at low energy output, and low stamina at high energy output. He can walk for days on end, but in a dead sprint he can't go more than a kilometer at best before his muscles start to rip him apart.

Which leads to : bones. Amaimon takes a very reptilian approach to the issue of having super powerful muscles, and has fibrin and cartilage reinforced bones that bow rather than break. However, these bones have many sharp angles for muscular attachments, and as a result are very poor at resisting torsion (twisting) and high rates of compression. The last thing he wants to do is land on his feet from a great height, for he is likely to fracture his long bones.

But those are not the only bones he has - much like monitor lizards, including komodo dragons, he has ossicones embedded in his skin, forming a chain-mail mesh of steely bone just below the dermis that makes his skin very resistant to slashes and cuts, but very weak to stabbing and thrusting. Cleaving into him wont do much damage, but impaling him on a pike works great.

His organs are strange, made stranger by his blood, which has a pH value of 7.8, far more alkaline than most viruses or bacteria can survive, making him virtually immune to disease. Unfortunately that also impacts the bacteria in his gut, which as a consequence can exist nowhere else on earth.

On the flip side, his stomach secretes acid that is so caustic it dissolves bone in hours, and also destroys even the worst of pathogens. As touched upon before, he can regurgitate this acid onto attackers in self defense, even going so far as to spit it at them from a distance of two meters. It has a patently unpleasant odor too, adding to its defensive quality.

Amaimons claws are semi retractable and grizzly-like, making them excellent tools for digging and prying things apart. They're also really good at ripping people apart, and there is no armor that can really do effective justice except for one: spiky. His skin isn't super resistant to impalement, remember, so the pricklier the better. That is assuming he cant chip away at it. Good luck with that.

Another organ to mention is his tail. It's not exactly prehensile, but it is flexible and very, very powerful. One whack across the midsection could kill a man. In fact his tail is often his first line of defense against attackers; it's so robust and armored that it's almost impossible to injure, and it hits like a truck. Good for offense or defense, or even just lazing around.

Astaroth

Fungi boy has an average strength of just twice that of a human. But when pushed to his limits, he can use hydraulic musculature to increase his strength to 9x that of the average human.

Speaking of which, Astaroth has some weird musculature- or lack thereof. Rather than having ordinary, dense tissue, he instead has a hydraulic system of movement akin to that of a worm or slug. Not only that, but his muscles are not his own - rather they are controlled by slime molds, with which he has a symbiotic relationship. The muscles are very little muscle tissue and a whole lot of mycellial fibers. His body is literally made of fungus, controlled by fungi and microorganisms, and is fed and defended by these things.

He is, in light of this, able to turn his body temperature on or off in any area he needs to at-will, giving his slimy friends the home they need.

He has a perfect mastery over the simple organisms he controls, and can exchange them at will. This combined with the ability to live without body heat means he is completely immune to all but the most severe of environments. As long as he has access to moisture, he can survive and thrive at sub zero temperatures and well into the triple digits. However he can not live without his slimy friends, and so can not endure drought very well. Deserts are the bane of his existence.

When it comes to defenses, Astaroth is nothing but. Toxic spores, all colours of miasma, foul smells, and even sharp needles and thorns when necessary. Nothing with a lick of sense would dare try to eat him, with the exception of microorganisms and parasites thereof - but it's not him they consume, but his symbiotes, which again he can simply discard or exchange as need be.

He is however very slow moving, typically, and doesn't really have a 'flee' or 'fight' response. Instead he freezes, exuding and oozing his more unfriendly companions to deter attack. If this should fail though, however unlikely, he is remarkably fragile and slow to heal, though virtually impossible to kill.

His only real weakness is well established: fire. It is the great sterilizer, though light is also not something he can easily defend against either. Neither are vacuums and immense air pressure. Basically if it's not within the realms of ordinary natural phenomena he has no ability to escape or defend. This gives him an edge against the younger of the Kings, but makes him powerless against the older half.

Whew! That was a lot. This post took FOREVER to make!

Questions and comments are welcome, reading with a grain of salt in mind is recommended.

[quickspinner]

Man’s Best Fang

This wasn’t what I intended to be working on last night, but then @verfound had to go and do this and here we are.

He should have know it wouldn’t be that simple. He should have known, because it was Jagged, and despite being an international rock star, a pioneer in his field, and, apparently, Luka’s biological father, when it came to getting his way, Jagged Stone was twelve fucking years old and absolutely not above glossing over some things if it meant he got what he wanted. And apparently what he wanted today was Luka and Fang out of the hotel suite.

Take Fang for a walk, mate. Nah, it’ll be fine, he loves you! Penny ordered some macarons for ‘im for afterward, so take your time, wink wink.

Jagged rambled something about inspiration but Luka was pretty sure he was getting kicked out so that Jagged could make out with Penny, which was gross on so many levels, especially now that he knew Jagged was his dad and had apparently once done things like that with Luka’s mother and— 

That train of thought had led to Luka giving in so that he could flee the scene of those very uncomfortable thoughts, but of course walking Fang wasn’t as simple as Jagged made it out to be. Of course.

And now Luka was stuck wrestling an 800 pound crocodile in the lobby of Paris’ fanciest hotel, all because Fang decided to throw a hissy fit (Luka had recently learned that crocodiles could, in fact, hiss) during his morning walk because the carpet had snagged one of his claws, and Fang, it turned out, was kind of a wuss.

Luka was far from a weakling to begin with, growing up working on the boat, which always needed repair in some tight and uncomfortable corner. After months of tagging around as a roadie and occasional backup guitarist to bond with his wanna-be father, lifting sound equipment and setting up stages and wedging himself into improbable positions to hook up sound equipment, he was probably in the best shape he’d ever been. So he was almost, sort of, holding his own against the thrashing crocodile, pressing his weight down on Fang and trying to get the dumb beast to hold still, damnit. He managed to get astride Fang’s neck and get a hand on either side of his massive jaws to hold them shut all while trying to reassure the hotel patrons that the situation was under control. 

“Now, you big baby,” he growled, lifting Fang’s muzzle up and back to keep him from thrashing. “Hold—” He glanced up at the small crowd that had gathered—and promptly forgot about them as his gaze locked on the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She blinked big blue eyes with long lashes and her cheeks pinked and he suddenly felt like Fang had kicked him in the gut. “Still,” he finished breathlessly.

Unfortunately, Fang sensed his distraction, jerked his muzzle free, and with a wild thrash and half-spin that required more energy than Luka had ever seen the lethargic creature use, he threw Luka off. 

The crowd scattered out of his way as he tumbled across the floor towards them, except for the blue-eyed girl in the pink dress, who didn’t move. Luka rolled to a stop at her feet on his back, and for a moment they stared at each other

“Hi,” Luka panted, and a giddy grin spread over his face. 

“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously, crouching down beside him and brushing his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. It shouldn’t have been possible for his heart to beat any harder considering he’d just been wrestling a crocodile four or five times his size, but it sure did its best as she stared into his eyes. It took longer than it should have to register that she was checking him for a concussion.

“Yeah,” he gasped. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

She frowned and held up her index finger. “Follow my finger.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” he said, eyes tracking that delicate finger automatically. She blushed and lowered her hand to her lap, where it curled automatically around the pink bakery box in her lap.

Luka blinked. “Wait, are those macarons?” 

“Um, yes?” Blue eyes blinked back at him. “I’m supposed to be delivering them to Jagged Stone.” 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Luka groaned, rolling over. “I work for him. Sort of. Can I have one of those please?” He got to his feet and pulled off his hoodie, tossing it to one side. It was one of the only articles of clothing he owned that wasn’t ripped and he wanted to keep it that way. Those big eyes got even bigger, roving over his shoulders and arms for a moment before she fumbled the box open and offered him a cookie.

He grinned, holding up the macaron between them. “Thanks, uh—” 

“Oh,” her eyes widened again. “I’m, uh, m-my name’s Ma-Ma-Marinette.” 

“Hello Ma-Ma-Marinette,” he chuckled, thoroughly charmed, “I’m Luka, and I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

A small hand caught his arm as he turned away and he looked back in surprise. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” she asked him anxiously, looking between him and Fang with concern. Marinette didn’t look frightened of the crocodile, but she looked up at him with a worried expression that had Luka ready to melt into a puddle at her feet. She was too sweet. 

“Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “He looks scary, but he’s basically a big baby throwing a temper tantrum. I’ll be fine.” He winked at her and faced Fang with renewed purpose. 

“Fang,” he called, waving the macaron in the crocodile’s field of vision. “Hey, boy, fancy a snack? Who’s a good croc? Fangy want a treat?”

Fang’s massive head followed him, and the crocodile’s jaws gaped wide. 

“That’s it, Fang,” Luka coaxed. “You want the treat? Let’s have a trick. Down, Fang.” 

The crocodile flopped on his belly obediently. “Good boy, Fang!” Luka praised. “Now, stay...just hold still a bit…”

Fang’s head turned as Luka held out the macaron at arm’s length, trying to reach Fang’s caught claw while keeping his attention on the macaron. 

It didn’t work; Fang lunged for the treat, forcing Luka to jump back, and pulled hard on his trapped and probably now sore paw. Fang chomped the cookie, which Luka had dropped in his surprise, and then made what should have been an angry bellow but was really more like a big whine as he began to thrash. Luka spared a moment of grudging admiration for whoever had made this damn carpet. Fang’s claws were filed religiously so he wouldn’t be slicing through it anytime soon, but you’d think he’d have managed to break free by now.

But then again, he was kind of an overgrown pampered poodle instead of the apex predator he should have been.

“Aw, c’mon, you big baby!” Luka groaned, throwing his weight back on the grumpy animal to stop his thrashing before he hurt himself. “Would you just hold fucking still for two seconds—” There was a flash of pink at the corner of his eye and he looked quickly to find Marinette at his elbow. She shoved another macaron into his hand, and Luka quickly leaned over Fang to wave it in front of the croc’s face. “Hey Fang, you want another?” he called, and the massive head swung away from his caught claw in pursuit of the macaron. That was great, for the moment, but Luka couldn’t figure out any way to tempt Fang with the macaron and get his claw loose at the same time. 

Suddenly there was a weight against his leg, and Luka looked back in surprise just in time to see the girl of his dreams grab Fang’s foreleg and force it down until there was some small amount of slack in the loose threads that had trapped him. Then she reached over with her other hand and did something Luka couldn’t see.

Just like that, Fang was free, and Luka, bent over nearly in half and hanging off the side of a crocodile, lost his heart completely. The love of his life sat up and her unfairly perfect lips curved in a triumphant smile as she brushed blue-black bangs out of her eyes. He stared as she tucked the seam ripper that had been in her hand back in her purse, and cooly tossed Fang another cookie. 

He entertained a brief fantasy of grabbing her gorgeous face and kissing her stupid right then and there, but it seemed a Jagged kind of thing to do, which meant it was probably a bad idea. Instead he slithered off of Fang’s back and sat next to her on the carpet. 

“So, uh,” he said, still rather winded but giving her the most charming grin he could muster under the circumstances. “Thanks for the assist.” 

She giggled. “My pleasure.” 

“Well, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” Luka said, turning slightly so his back was resting against the now-docile crocodile and drawing up one knee to prop his arm across it. “Will you marry me?” 

She burst into bright laughter that touched his musical soul, and he longed for his guitar. “Too soon, huh?” Luka sighed dramatically. “How about dinner, then? I promise I’ll leave Fang at home. Whoa!” He nearly fell backwards as Fang abruptly moved away from him, swinging around to nose the box of treats and then—and then the fucker turned and put his head in Marinette’s lap, blinking up at her ever so innocently.

Marinette giggled and reached for the box, plucking out a macaron and droppinging it into Fang’s mouth. She patted the crocodile’s head as he munched happily. “Aw, you’re just a puppy dog with scales, aren’t you?” she cooed, and Luka had never in his life believed he would be jealous of a fucking lizard, but here he was. Then Marinette looked up at Luka and smiled and blushed and he was ready to kiss Fang himself for giving him the chance to meet her. “Um, dinner sounds good,” Marinette said shyly, shoulders hunching slightly. “What did you have in mind?”  

Luka could only hope the grin that was spreading across his face wasn’t as dopey as it felt.

Luka drifted back into Jagged’s suite wearing that same dopey grin and a dreamy look in his eyes, Fang waddling along contentedly at his side. 

Penny frowned as he wandered past her. “Luka, everything okay?”

“Fantastic,” Luka replied, grin widening. “Can’t talk right now, Penny, I need my guitar.” 

He went into his room, Fang still waddling along with him. A few minutes later the sound of Luka’s guitar drifted through the suite. 

His door was still open, so Penny peaked in to see Luka on the floor, leaning back against Fang, strumming as he stared into nothing with that dreamy look on his face. Fang’s tail thumped lightly in time with the melody. 

Penny turned and whisper-yelled for Jagged. She waved him over. “Do you think he’s okay?” she asked, nodding toward Luka’s room.

Jagged listened for a minute, and then began to cackle. “Aw, leave him be, Penny,” he chortled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Boy’s got it bad. Let him work it out for a bit and then we’ll find out who the little lady is.” Jagged rubbed his hands gleefully. “It’s about time he found a muse. I told you Fang was a chick magnet. He was good before, he’s gonna be brilliant now. Every great musician needs inspiration, right love?” He chucked Penny under the chin and she blushed. 

[fipindustries]

Lapsarians

my fetish comic about gross lizard people and the inherent social struggles that come with the integrations of different cultures which examine the nature of what is socially acceptable and what it even means to be human is, uh, done and you can go read it right here! (here is a back up) now its time for anotherone of my fable dissections of my work.

so, how did this come about? it all started here

i was bored and decided to aimlessly draw whatever and i guess i was in a particularly horny mood that day and this is what came out.

now, one belief i always had is that fetishes can be a great source of inspiration, you are exploring out there ideas that are not often seen in media due to their impropriety, which makes it feel fresh and new, and it is their shock factor which provides a lot of emotional impact for the reader. 

the trick here is to not make it self in dulgent, to not make it merely exploitative, you have to give it some emotional core so that is not just cheap taboo thrills but so that we actually care about the characters and about the story and it doesnt all just hinge on the money shot.

more than once i would try to come up with a sexual fantasy for my own pleasure and then i would get carried away adding world building and more and more plot and by the end of the night the purose of masturbating had been forgotten and i had an entire story in my head and no idea what to do with it. i used to be reticent to share these stories with the world because they would ultimatly be dismissed as fetish fuel and, gosh, what kind of weirdo tries to pass their fap folder as legitimate art, what kind of insecure pretentious douchebag tries to legitimize their fetishes by unironically sharing them with the world as if they were earnest stories that one is supposed to read with a straight face?

i guess i stopped caring about that, is not like im a famous artist with a reputation to uphold, if people want to read this then so be it, if they think its stupid then so be it as well. i liked it and i think there are enough people who think similarly enough to me that they might like it as well.

one pet peeve i have with vore is when it has a bad end, i have seen plenty of vore comics that love to render flesh melting away from bone by being submerged in gastric juices. there is one specific comic im thinking off, which despite all my best efforts i could not find again, which comes to mind. its about a lizard lady with blonde hair and a pony tail eating a poor kid at a basketball field, it has a sequel about that very same lady convincing a guy not to jump off a bridge and inviting him to her apartment where they had a lovely conversation and she tries her best efforts not to eat him, this also doesnt end well. the point of both comics was to revel on the tragedy of a life being ended to satiate the impulses of another person, on the desperate struggle against someone bigger and stronger than you. i can understand the appeal of that, and i was certainly moved by those stories, but i wanted to take that idea in an entirely different direction.

i think the main impetus behind this comic is that i enjoy it when weird things than in most contexts would be considered disturbing are normalized. as someone who believes in progress and in transhumanism, as someone who believes in the concept of the best of all possible worlds as presented in that video i just linked, i like the removal of undesirable consequences, i like it when things that would otherwise harm us can be done safely. also i like to explore the limits of human adaptability, and not just material adaptabiity but also mental. what things, regardless of how strange or weird or offputting we find them now, can  we eventually be not only ok with but actively enjoy? these are the main themes i was interested in exploring.

but as with always, there are hundreds of other readings that people can get from this, i would like to take the chance to engage with a specific i can see coming off the top of my head.

some people might read this comic as a metaphor for immigration and take it both as if it was in favor (since after all it ends with a lapsarian and a human getting along) or against it (it shows a lot of downsides to the coexistence of lapsarians and humans). personally im not sure if the lapsarians work as a great metaphor for immigrants since the reason they find themselves in our planet are not at all analogous to that of human diasporas in our history, they came here just because a pathway happened to open and they were just curious as to what was on the other side, not motivated by socioeconomic factors at all. likewise i feel lapsarians are too alien and the challenges that come with trying to integrate them into our society are too unique to really stand properly for any other human cuture.

but ultimatly what i say is irrelevant really, you can read this comic however you damn well want, im just sharing this if you are curious about what i think of this interpretation

anyway, that was my latest comic, also my last project of 2020, boy howdy i actually got a lot of things done that year. and what a way to start this one, all i can say is stay tuned and you may see what else i come up with next.

[jadedbirch]

Look, bubbles! - silverflint

For Mistress Elle, I hereby fill this prompt!  :*  This takes place in the fanfiction gap between seasons 2 and 3.

“Captain, a word?”

Flint turned to find a woman standing behind him, wearing far too elegant a dress for such a hellhole, or so the tavern had begun to appear to him post the events of Charles Town.

“You’re Eleanor’s… uh… replacement,” he said, recognizing the Madame and the new proprietor of Eleanor’s business.  Rackham and Bonny’s wily little partner.  Who helped fuck him.

“Max,” she smiled a benevolent smile at him.“I remember you,” he said, unable to hold back a scowl.

“It’s about your quartermaster,” Max said, familiarly winding her arm into his and drawing him away from the bar.

“What’s he done?” Flint growled.  He wouldn’t underestimate Silver’s ability to still somehow fuck shit up for him, even short one leg.  The pirate alliance in Nassau was far too new and too fragile to toss away.  He batted down the sudden pang of worry that crept into his belly as he allowed Max to lead him across the walkway and… towards the brothel.  “Jesus, don’t tell me he’s killed one of your workers.”

“It is nothing like that,” Max spoke quietly.  “It is simply a matter that I thought best dealt with by you directly, lest word got out.”

Well, that wasn’t terribly reassuring.  Flint sighed.  “Is he all right?” 

“He is unharmed,” Max said, and that, too, wasn’t terribly reassuring.

“Christ,” he muttered, following her down the corridor, past the sounds of overzealous fuckery that emanated through the thin walls.

She stopped before one of the rooms, gesturing for him to halt while she knocked on the door:  three short taps and one loud one.  The door opened, and through the crack Flint beheld Anne Bonny’s threatening scowl, which melted into a soft smile as she nodded and stepped aside to allow them free passage inside.

“After you, Captain,” Max nodded, gesturing for Flint to enter.  

In the bedroom, he beheld a curious sight.  By the large bed stood a brass washing basin, surrounded by a large puddle where a peg leg lay sprawled in a state of half-drowned melancholy.  A mop of wild curls spilled over the lip of the tub.  The mop of curls appeared to be - Lord aid him - singing some kind of a sea shanty that Flint would scarcely want to contemplate where Silver may have picked up.

Flint looked over at Max, who stood quietly by Bonny’s side, both their faces unreadable and entirely unhelpful.  He took a few more steps closer, circling to the foot of the tub, where Silver lay in all his disrobed glory, hands slapping like the fins of a struggling fish against the surface of the bath water.

“Silver,” Flint said, not certain what exactly he was expected to do with the “situation” unfolding before him.

A pair of limpid blue eyes slowly rose to fix upon his nose.  “Look, bubbles!” Silver offered, with an idiotic grin spreading over his face.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Flint finally asked.

“He showed up in my room,” Max began to explain a bit helplessly, “drunk out of his mind and raving.  We haven’t been able to get him to leave since.”

“And whose idea was it to give him a bath?” Flint asked, eyes still taking in the sight before him.  This sight, although not particularly uplifting, was nevertheless not entirely unpleasant.

“His own,” Bonny ground through her teeth.

“I did not think it was wise to allow your men to see him like this,” Max continued.  

“So, let him prune in there, what do I care?” Flint snapped.  “Surely you two can find another place to shack up for the night,” he smiled at Max and her little partner with all his teeth.

“Get ‘im out, or I’ll fetch Jack and Vane next,” Bonny snarled.  “He’s yer quartermaster.  That makes ’im yer bloody problem, don’t it?”

Flint’s hand twitched towards the hilt of his sword, mirrored immediately by the quick movement of Anne Bonny’s hands.  Their alliance, he reminded himself, was still far too fragile to throw away over one drunk, naked quartermaster, playing with bath bubbles in the middle of some Sapphic inferno.

“Fine,” Flint muttered, relaxing his hands.  “Just… give me some time to get him decent again, and I’ll get him out of your… hair.”

“I would appreciate it, Captain,” Max smiled again, taking Bonny by the hand.  “We’ll be downstairs if anything…”“Go,” he interrupted her. 

“Come, Anne.”  

Flint watched Bonny follow the Madame out the door, her scowl once again melting under that soft, expert touch.  With the women both gone, and the door closed tightly behind them, he let out another defeated sigh and sank down upon the unmade, ruffled bed, letting his head sink into the hold of his own hands.

“God damn it, Silver,” he muttered, addressing neither particularly the man in the tub nor whatever deity kept dangling this man before him, like some exotic and most certainly forbidden fruit.

“God damn it, Silver,” the pruning nuisance echoed him from the tub.

“What are you, a fucking parrot?” Flint snorted, raising his head and looking the man before him over from head to his one remaining set of toes, that dangled over the edge of the tub. 

“Caw-caw!” Silver replied.  “Wish that I were, Captain, wish that I were.  For were I a parrot, I could spread my wings and fly the fuck far, far away from here.  Do you think parrots need two legs to perch?  I suppose it might be an inconvenience.”  Silver once again clapped his hands against the surface of the water, sending soap suds either which way. 

“You’re making a mess,” Flint pointed out a bit despondently.

“Aye, that is my specialty,” Silver nodded and graced Flint with a wide eyed grin.  “Can we stay here?” he suddenly asked.  “I like it.  ‘S quiet.”

“Quiet,” Flint repeated, just as his ears picked up reinvigorated sounds of a squeaking bed and amorous grunts from beyond the wall.  “Jesus, how much did you have to drink, Silver?”

“Not nearly enough, if you ask me,” Silver replied with that same grin.  “I can still feel my legs.  Both of them.  Which, in itself, is disconcerting.”  One of his arms reached from the tub towards Flint.  “Can you check, Captain?  It hasn’t grown back, has it?”

“Only if you’re secretly part lizard,” Flint replied, his furrowed eyebrows softening.  He slinked down from the bed and sank to the wet floor by the side of the tub.  “Silver, I need you to help me get you out of there.”

“No,” Silver pouted.  “Not out.  In.  Stay here with me, Captain.”

“The water’s surely grown cold.  You might catch your death.”

“In the infernal heat of Nassau?” Silver asked with an air of a highly offended individual.  His arm moved again, trailing across Flint’s shoulder.  “Huh,” he muttered with a dazed look.

“Come on, Silver.” Flint gathered himself and leaned over the tub, allowing his arms to dip under the water and lock behind Silver’s back.  “Let’s go.  Put your arms around my neck.”  Why exactly was God testing him like this?  Oh yes, probably because God, too, as well as the King,  was incredibly offended by his existence. 

Blessedly, his quartermaster did as he was told, for once, lifting up his arms and circling them around Flint’s neck, like a very amiable python.  Silver reached up and rested his forehead against Flint’s own and closed his eyes, apparently in no rush to actually be lifted out of the tub. 

“Put your leg back in and push,” Flint suggested.

“Nah. This is nice, too.”  Silver’s hand brushed against the freshly shaven skin of Flint’s skull, shocking him.  He had not grown entirely used to the feel of it yet since he had updated his look, and having another man’s hand on the exposed, vulnerable skin left Flint unbalanced.  “Prickly,” Silver muttered.

Flint could at this point let the man go and step away from the tub.  He could very easily walk out of that room and leave Max and her lover to follow through on their threat of fetching his new partners (who have all fucked him repeatedly). These all seemed like very logical and achievable choices.  Instead, he closed his eyes and allowed Silver to continue touching the back of his head with those long fingers while his body lay exposed and wet in Flint’s unexpected embrace.

“Do you ever think about kissing me?” Silver asked, his arms tightening around Flint’s neck.  “Because I do.  I mean, you.  I mean, I think about kissing you.  All the time.”  Silver’s breath tickled the hollow of Flint’s neck.  “Which is kind of suicidal of me, really.  I usually have much better self-preservation skills than that.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Flint practically moaned.  He pulled upwards, attempting to drag Silver bodily out of the tub, with or without his assistance.

“James Flint,” Silver muttered, his head rolling back, his body limp and clinging at the same time.  “You’re so strong, Captain.  God, how are you this strong?”

“I’m mostly powered by rage and a festering sense of my own superiority,” Flint explained with a grunt as he fell backwards into Max’s bed, pulling Silver’s unhelpful body along with him.

“That sounds right,” Silver purred against his ear, wetly - God help him - cuddling up against Flint’s side.  “But I’d still really like to kiss you.”

“Perhaps when you’re sober,” Flint protested, weakly, attempting to brush the other man off.

“Again, when I’m sober,” Silver mewled amicably, pressing his open mouth against the thin material of Flint’s shirt where it barely covered his shoulder after all the effort of reeling that unwieldy fish out of the water.

Silver’s body was already beginning to warm to the touch, the sheets absorbing the moisture from his skin, and Flint smirked at the thought of Max and Bonny finding their sheets somewhat worse for wear upon their return. 

“You’re really good at this, you know,” Silver spoke again.  It was strangely good to see him like this, pliant and with that smile of contentment on his handsome features which had been so oft marred by agony in the past months. 

“At what?” Flint asked, breathlessly.

“Taking care of me.”

Perhaps it wasn’t such a big deal, in the grand scheme of his moral transgressions, especially of late.  Flint wrapped one arm around Silver’s naked, narrow waist and pressed him closer, letting their lips touch with gentle uncertainty.  After everything that Silver had stolen from him, perhaps the least he could do in return is steal a kiss back. Even if only one of them remembered it in the morning.

[becausewehaveto]

ooc meme! tagged by: @seiikiranna tagging:  @shxrpshot @hi-im-cas @scarletchaos @spideyxgwen @hawkeyedinc

A. age: 27, feel like I’m 80 B. birthplace: Missouri pronounced Miz-ur-uh C. current time: 4:50 D. drink you had last: Mike’s Hard Lemonade E. easiest person to talk to: My fiance, all you gotta do is make weird noises at each other and there’s a strange understanding. F. favorite song: Uuuuh... I really like that Lionheart song but I can’t remember what the name of it is but it has a nice jam G. grossest memory: Alright, so my first year teaching I had a class that really connected with my love of nature and animals. I made a point of every time they found a spider I wouldn’t kill it but instead put it in a safe place to release later. Every lizard and cool bug they found they had to report to me. I had to tell a lot of kids to leave the poor lizards alone and remind them that they’re just trying to live their lives and they wouldn’t appreciate giant sweaty hands grabbing them. Anyway, one day a group of my girls came running up to me and informed me of the ‘pretty caterpillar” on the fence. I went to check it out but what I found was horrifying. It was a caterpillar but one that had apparently gotten stung by one of those wasps that lays eggs into whatever it stings so there were dozens of wasp maggots sticking out of this poor caterpillar. I had to hold back my disgust and was like “Oh no the poor thing.” And kind of brushed it off with a branch so the kids wouldn’t want to touch it. Then I had to teach a lesson on  parasites and that all the white things on it were actually maggots.  That’s a really great introduction to the life cycle. H. horror yes or horror no: Yes. Always. Love horror. I. in love?: With my fiance J. jealous of people: Generally no, I just get anxious but not jealous of others K. killed someone: Not that I know of L. love at first sight or should i walk by again?: I don’t believe in love at first sight, that tends to be lust M. middle name: Helena N. number of siblings: 1 little brother O. one wish: Just to have a peaceful life P. person you called last: Kylo Q. question you’re always asked: "What’s the homework?” Boi! It’s written on the god damn board. R. reason to smile: I mean there are a lot of reasons, my best friend, my fiance, my cat, my job. I smile for a lot of reasons along with my passions, writing, drawing, learning things about other cultures. S. song you sang last: Uuuuuuhh. It was on the radio, I can’t remember T. top 3 fictional characters: Clint Barton (My little nerd), I like the tenth doctor from Dr. Who, and David Haller from Legion U. underwear color: Uuuum... Yellow? V. vacation: I’m planning the honeymoon to be in Kyoto, Japan. Probably Tokyo too W. when’s your birthday: September 8th X. x-rays: I have some x-rays of my elbow lying around somewhere from when I managed to crash on my board and thought I broke it D; Y. your favorite food: Oh man, curry or pho those are my favorites right now. Z. zodiac sign: Virgo

[kai-fawn]

I got tagged by @wonderseverythingabove ,hoo damn, this is long but here goes

1. Are you named after someone? My dad literally named me after some personal consumer products brand name when he went to the toilet in the hospital I was born in, I kid you not. Luckily it’s like a normal common name. That’s my birth name tho which I don’t use anymore except with family. The name I got from a friend ‘’Kai’’ is not based on anyone as far as I know.

2.When was the last time you cried? I don’t know, probably a week or 2/4 ago 

3.Do you like your handwriting? No not rlly, I often can’t read my own handwriting anymore.

4.What is your favorite lunch meat? Hmm.. bacon?

5.Do you have kids? If you count my over 28 oc’s or else no

6.If you were another person, would you be friends with you? I’d either be best buddies with me or we’d just awkwardly drift apart, I’m horrid with social interactions 

7.Do you use sarcasm? Yeah Kinda 

8.Do you still have your tonsils? Yes, they’re still here.

9.Would you bungee jump? I sorta did with a friend if you count that bungee thing in Walibi, Like the moment the thing let go there was like a second of ‘I’m gonna die’’ but it was actually rlly fun, I remember the friend I was connected to told me one of her buckles went lose when it dropped us, she told me that when we were on the ground again. Like how did she not freak out? But yeah I would if it wouldn’t like snap my neck or like cause me some body pain.

10.What is your favorite kind of cereal? Uhm like those frosted things I think, I don’t eat cereal a lot since I always forget I have soy milk in the refrigerator and it all goes bad.

11.Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Yeah

12.Do you think you’re a strong person? Like mentally or physically? Mentally I dunno man haha, maybe a little? Physically I use to think so yeh but while carrying tables this guy I was carrying it with literally like swooped me around ,table and me connected to the other side of it, so ehh maybe averagely..

13.What is your favorite ice cream? I’d pretty much eat any flavor of water ice except pear, I’m allergic to milk so no cream haha

14.What is the first thing you notice about people? Their hair and height

15.What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? My skin, I swear I must be a lizard or a snake since I shed like a motherfucker it’s no fun

16.What color pants and shoes are you wearing now?  Gray pants no shoes on r/n

17. What are you listening to right now?  Nothing 

18. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Probably some shade of blue or green

19. Favorite smell? Neutral smells or light soft sweet smells nothing strong since my sense of smell is pretty strong 

20.Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? Jinainne an old high school friend I still keep in touch with though she moved to Curacao sadly 

21. Favorite sport to watch? I don’t watch sports haha unless sport anime counts

22.Hair color? Very dark brown/black

23.Eye color? Brown

24.Do you wear contacts? nope

25.Favorite food to eat? Sushi, I crave that fish, tho I quite dislike baked or cooked fish unless it’s kibbeling

26. Scary movies or comedy? Scary I think tho I guess it rlly depends on how I feel

27.Last movie you watched? The martian 

28.What color of shirt are you wearing? It’s black with some grayish and neon green on it

29. Summer or winter? ehh like a winter but a not too hash on please, I’m more a medium kind of weather person not too cold not too hot please like spring, spring is good

30. Hugs or kisses? Hugs, tho I’m not rlly a touchy person tbh

31.What book are you currently reading? Ohh I haven’t read an actual published book in quite some years tbh...but I read a whole lot of fics, currently reading ‘’Fear of space’’ by KnightNuraStar on AO3

32.Who do you miss right now? Probably Jinainne, she’s probably coming over in the summer vacation this year. Also Charlie, you ass, I miss you too. Sometimes I kinda miss Jasmine too, we haven’t properly talked in about 2 years and I’m afraid we’ve drifted apart but I still sorta miss her.

33.What is on your mouse pad? I don’t have one

34.What is the last TV program you watched? I have no idea man, I don’t watch TV anymore

35.What is the best sound? I dunno man that’s a hard question, I rlly like ambient music, things that make you travel trough little peaceful adventures as you listen or simply make you feel like you float in nothingness 

36.Rolling Stones or The Beatles? Heck I dunno, I don’t listen to either 

37.What is the furthest you have ever traveled? From the Netherlands to Spain

38.Do you have a special talent? I can sort of draw

39.Where were you born? The Netherlands

I tag:

@fpszombiequeen @cyberflight @pureren @hi-im-secretly-satan @tootsy

Only if you want to ofc and who ever wants to do it can too~ ^^

[shaydraplays]

okay, here are the liveblogs of the entirety of she-ra season 1

because i don’t know how to consume media responsibly

see individual episodes under the cut: 

ep1 - catra fucking purred with excitement, i had to go back to confirm, the furries are back at it again - and she sleeps at the foot of adora's bed... incredible - does she just sleep with her helmet on? wait i guess all these soldiers don't have sleep clothes, but still? - the adora-glimmer-beau fight scene was hilarious. beau and glimmer just straight up screaming at adora with enough force to shake? excellent. - the way glimmer runs with the sword away from danger is SO good - glimmer just DOESN'T stop screaming and honestly, mood - lmao

ep2 - jesus CHRIST the opening is physically killing me - the amount of times beau's voice breaks - the way they animated people moving is just top notch in general - the voices also... very good - hell yeah floppy eared deer people - neigh - incatrible - damn just keep tasing her i guess... rude - catra fucking bodice ripping the netting hell yeah - the transformation makes her and the sword slightly taller like, why??? - :C catra - "wait, whose horse was this" well it's yours now

ep3 - beau's voice continues to be excellent - the amount of screaming beau and glimmer do on average is also excellent - how are you not enraptured by horsie rolling in the grass next to you? - omg pegacorn floppin around - beau and glimmer are masters of the "oh shit" run. trot? - granny is cute - catra has such disaster lesbean vibes - i dont have my glasses you'll have to speak up - how does horsie's wings keep changing color - also i've completely accepted the ridiculosity of all these names but still... - the arc werewolf man makes when kicked - thank u for validating me swiftwind - wait where do you put the sword when not in use

ep4 - how's they get adora's horde jacket out of the bushes near that village? also she lost her force captain pin rip - so do they just never change clothes? i had high hopes from adora putting on stuff to cover the horde symbol but i guess not - aw sleebover - okay they have no sleep clothes here either - general is hot - did catra draw princess on a horse or - zarkon is a twink now. twunk? - is that jasper's voice for that side character - the beast of beast island - those are not tree destruction foley sounds - yeah stop the machines poisoning ur land! environmentalism! - this is a small kingdom. these kingdoms are all really small? - you've been friends for like 2 days - where did they get horde outfits - beau's lil exclamations are.... Good - YAY SLEEBOVER

ep5 - something tells me adora doesn't like boats - i HAVE to mute the theme song. just, wow - go fish........ - who voices scorpia because Nice - nice violin - mermista is relatable - "They're coming right for the Gate!" mermista's big groan is a mood - is catra's MO from now on just gonna be to leap up to wherever Adora is doing hero things and monologue at her - i wanna be on 8-foot-tall woman's side as well - lmao christen the ship right there

ep6 - lmao glimmer's face when she-ra boutta bust it open - only tiny food........ - drunk adora is cute - did they just leave the sword - fizzy lifting drinks - okay so the sword is just animated when its convenient, otherwise i guess adora vores it or something

ep7 - that last episode was trite so now im gonna draw while watching - i love when they reference adora's depressing upbringing. "no i don't know what an aunt is but i was hoping someone would eventually explain". also beau is a bro - so lightspinner is shadowsneaker or whatever, right - naptime - i hope they explain who greyskull is etc sometime - do you not know what a pillow is why are you lying backwards - adora trust ur friends more pls it's been at least a week by now - thats new - catra no

ep8 - soooo prom means they'll change their clothes right - damn scorpia's a princess, what does it mean that they gave up their gemstone thing? no magic? - a true soldier by upbringing, adora - hell YEAH catra in a tux - neau just gotta wear a croptop - how are they gonna let catra in her whole bodys a weapon - hell yeah these ppl snazzy as fuck - so what the fuck is swiftwind doing these days anyway - adora is me. hormf snacks - man scorpia why cant u just let ppl chill - hell yeah sexual tension dance time - how do they know how to dance - catra is smooth - "you don't understand" ouch that is like the worst thing to say to smol frost princess - catra no - "I don't want you to" man she is such a... kovu's mom in lion king 2 or 3

ep9 - beau maDE THEM FIGURINES IM CRY - rip mermista - captain dude is so dumb - scorpia is going to kill u - this rebellion is clearly not combat ready - the black garnet is the one that scorpia's family gave the horde right? - really digging the low res pixels of the cell door being kicked for some reason - kyle pls - beau's expressions are SO good - well this sucks - if adora actually got her memories wiped and rejoined the herd and catra had to pretend that everything was normal man that'd be a good fanfic - glimmer thats very anime of u - catra, a lil bitch as always - damn, nice lighting - THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I LIKE YOU B-BAKA - catra no - damn, she really just got incinerated right in front of the team, huh - had to let the sad end credits music play this time, alexa play despacito

ep10 - "yeah that sure smells like concrete" thanks scorpia - adora is SO excited that she can use magic - i had to look it up but yeah i can definitely hear the amethyst in catra's voice now - yeah entrapta didn't seem like she gave much of a shit in the first place - hell YEAH she just jumps out the window - it's pretty incredible that they haven't miscolored catra's eyes yet, at least that i saw - thank u for coming back to the original disagreement and hashing it out, hell yeah emotional intelligence - just tell ur mom, blease - when queen mom is holding glimmer as she glitches... wow that's very adult fear of you - why do they not animate the sword and backbacks whenever it pleases them? i can excuse magical sword bullshit but c'mon catra needs to eat - hell yeah trippy psychological horror episode PLEASE - catra no

ep11 - hell yeah time for the "save my archnemesis frenemy from being killed by nonsentient technology ostensibly on my side, only to receive zero gratitude and probable betrayal from said frenemy" episode - their interactions are SO good - keeping things close to your chest and not saying anything about entrapta, nice - blease i just want them to be frens again - BAPY CATRA YES - FLOFF - BLEASE - FRENS - tween catra is EXTRA FLOFF - really telling that all their good memories are of getting chased by superiors and fighting each other. fucking horde - teen lizard's hair is good - catra's pretty good at saving herself. can she do it in the way that matters, though? - part cat, part monkey - well then, this memory probably doesn't end happily - oh, maybe this'll give adora hints on how to heal glimmer - fucking shadow... slipper. fuck u - jesus christ well this is just the writing on the wall for why catra can hate adora so easily. fuck u shadow sneak - bapy.... she hiss - w o w

ep12 - creepy. yes. i have been called this before. i n c r e d i b l e - hell yeah aliens - oh my god it speaks - man, what is EVEN scorpia's deal besides comic relief... horde is real bad at cultivating friendship - hack the p l a n e t - god damn, speaker baby imp is creepy. also how did catra not hear/smell that, maybe all horde shit smells similar - so entrapta doesn't have her corresponding gemstone? also oooooh, that's what the moonstone is. - adora, you made a self-cognizant horse, look at it now, it's got self-assurance and helpful words that also perpetuate the message that all domestic or captive animals are suffering, but in a joking manner

ep13 - ok, last ep of season 1, oh boy. can't wait to read all the post s1 fanfic - how did they... switch seating order... c'momn dreamworks - so why is entrapta a princess if she doesn't have a gemstone - WHY is beau still baring his midriff? in armor??? - wait so you can stand on water now? - stop monologueing holy shit - i guess there just isn't water? - k, deus ex machina and big damn heroes, i guess - nice combo attacks - she ra said gay rights. happy wrath month everyone - catra.......... no

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The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Link has never been set so free

The Nintendo Switch launch title takes the Zelda franchise to a whole new level, producing something even greater than the sum of its finely honed parts

Nintendo tricked us all. For years, it gave the impression that it was content to live in its own little corner of the gaming world, making well-received updates to its own franchises, without really caring about what the wider industry was doing.

Now we know that for all that time, it was watching and learning. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is the result of that examination: a game that marries the best bits of the franchises long history with the best bits of the rest of the gaming world, and produces something even greater than the sum of its parts.

At its heart, Breath of the Wild is an open-world exploration game, in the vein of titles such as Skyrim, The Witcher 3, and FarCry 4. After completing the small starting area (and these things are, of course, relative: that area feels about as large as the entire Hyrule Field from Ocarina of Time), Link is thrown into a world scattered with quests to complete, people to meet and monsters to defeat.

He can find and climb towers to mark new areas on the map and travel at speed between them. He can break in wild horses and ride them, collect foodstuffs and cook them, collect new weapons and kill new things with them. He can also find, hidden or in plain sight, shrines which expand his life pool for each four completed; he can attack, or be attacked by, boss-level monsters wandering around the world, and solve environmental puzzles to collect Korok seeds that will expand his inventory. And then theres the other stuff dotted around the place that defies categorisation: the Great Fairies, the rare non-boss monsters, the small hints at the past of the world of Hyrule, and the strange characters youll sometimes meet, half way up a mountain playing an accordion or in the middle of a ruined castle being attacked by Bokoblins.

Theres a danger, when describing a game of this scale, to get lost in the checklists. Yes, theres a lot to do, but thats meaningless if doing it isnt fun in its own right. Thankfully, thats not a problem Breath of the Wild has. In fact, I cant think of a previous Zelda game which gets the core gameplay loop so right.

Lets pull back for a second, though, and look at the overall structure of the game. Once Link leaves the Great Plateau, in short order he finds the heart of his quest: to find and free the four divine beasts, techno-magical creations that are key to defeating regular series villain Ganon and saving Princess Zelda and the land of Hyrule from destruction. As Zelda plots go, its fairly standard, considerably enlivened by the cast of characters involved, and the fully voice-acted cutscenes interspersed throughout (Link himself, however, remains a mute protagonist).

Those four divine beasts are located at roughly the four corners of the map, encouraging full exploration even before the completionism and sidequests kick in. They occupy roughly the same role in as the classical dungeons and temples of previous Zelda games, with a series of puzzles culminating in a boss fight, and form absolutely spectacular set pieces.

Each of the beasts have their own radically different storyline leading up to the confrontation. Photograph: Nintendo

The first of the beasts I fought and you can approach them in any order you see fit, but the game gently nudges you to tackle them in a roughly anti-clockwise order started with a trip to Zoras Domain, battling through a long path to reach the land of the fish people. Once there, Link is enlisted to collect lightning-infused Shock Arrows (the Zora, being a watery folk, cant even touch them), before he teams up with the prince of the Zora to attack the divine beast, using the arrows to take out weak points on its outer shell and calm it enough to land on it. And thats only the beginning of the fight, which draws a clear inspiration from titles like PS2 classic Shadow of the Colossus and manga hit Attack on Titan.

Each of the beasts have their own radically different storyline leading up to the confrontation, and even in a more conventionally-structured Zelda, theyd be noteworthy for their impeccable mixture of puzzles, combat and flair.

But Breath of the Wild is not conventionally structured – at least, not for this series. Gamecube-era classic The Wind Waker comes closest, with its seafaring world, but where the open ocean that game offered was largely a wide blue expanse with the occasional semirandom encounter, Breath of the Wilds world is, and I cant repeat this enough, bursting at the seams.

If youre thinking, for instance, that four dungeons seems slim even Ocarina of Time had nine then lets talk about those shrines. Nintendo says theres 120 of them, dotted all around the map, and each of them is a complete mini-dungeon in its own right. Some are simple one-room puzzles, offering everything from a test of timing with your bow and arrow to a motion-controlled game of pachinko. Others expand that, up to a full multi-room series of Zelda puzzles, taking an idea (transport the fire, for instance) and iterating on it. There are combat-focused shrines, with one singular boss-tier enemy, and there are even shrines where the entire puzzle is simply finding the damn thing, or making your way to its front door.

If youre matching the description to your memory of Zelda games past, youll notice something: those shrines arent and cant be ability gated. If you can do anything in any order, the game cant require items that drop from one dungeon to complete the next, as almost every previous Zelda game has. Instead, youll secure the vast majority of your skills in the opening area, including bombs, a time-freeze skill, and the ability to manipulate metal objects.

There are still times youll find yourself in a shrine and unable to complete it, particularly some of the harder combat shrines, but even that happens less often than you might think, thanks to the games unique approach to collectibles.

Every weapon (and shield) is breakable. Not in a World of Warcraft, or Witcher 3, way, where they have durability scores to encourage you to head to a blacksmith periodically. No, these weapons will break, permanently, after a certain amount of use, and theres nothing you can do about it.

That means rather than a steady power increase, common to most RPGs, youll find yourself yo-yoing around: a brilliant sword dropped by a boss will give you a huge burst of damage, but only until it shatters. Its a canny concept, which has you playing around with a far wider proportion of the games armoury than most of its peers, which forces you to treat the vast majority of loot as junk.

Keeping tabs on which weapon to use can become complicated. Photograph: Nintendo

The downside is pairing that approach with an extremely limited inventory space, and the rapid desire to keep a few types of weapon on hand for specific uses (a metal blade for making sparks to light fires, for instance, and an icy weapon for killing fiery enemies), can quickly feel cramped. At times, Ive found myself with only one weapon I was actually comfortable using against common mobs, rapidly having to pick up a new club every time my old one shattered lest I wear down my Ancient Sword++ or Giant Thunderblade.

Just as your weaponry and inventory no longer act as a constraint on where you can go, so too does the world itself offer few barriers. You can go anywhere is a common selling point in open world games, but its rarely so true as here. Every wall, cliff, and tower can be climbed, with only Links stamina limiting how far you can go. And that stamina can be refilled, with food eaten halfway up a mountain, and enhanced, with items won from shrines, meaning that the sky really is the limit. And youll want to climb high, because the other major addition to Links motability is a paraglider, similar to the Deku Leaf from Wind Waker, which can take him a considerable distance if he jumps off a high-enough point.

All these things combine together to form that best-in-class core gameplay loop. In the back of your mind, you know you should make your way to the Zora Domain, to find the divine beast. So you climb a mountain to see if you can spy the way to the tower that will give you the map. You do see the tower, but you also spot a shrine halfway there. Pausing only to consider the landscape it really is pretty, isnt it? you mark the shrines location, jump off a cliff, and float towards it, but find your way blocked by a camp of Bokoblins. Fighting your way through them shatters the claymore youve been carrying, and costs precious arrows, but the chest at the end contains a hundred rupees, and you pick up a spear one of them dropped, so it nets out. Once you find the shrine, you complete the puzzle by setting your own wooden spear on fire, and then leave, with the intention of heading on to the tower.

But the shrine is a fast travel point, offering you the ability to divert from the trek and easily resume it at a later date. And now youve got a hundred rupees, you can entice a Great Fairy out of her hiding place. So you head over there, and chat to her, discovering that shell enhance your armour. But you need a few more Hightail Lizards to do so and so you put the trip to Zoras Domain on hold again, just for a few more minutes

You look up, and its five hours later, and you dont care.

Nintendo Switch (version tested)/Wii U; 59.99; Pegi rating 12+

Nintendo Switch review: a brave and fascinating new console

Nintendo Switch is here but Im still playing my N64

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from The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Link has never been set so free