#lobotomy <3

[leona-florianova]

a very normal lizard saucerer or whatever hell this thing is

[pru3ak]

[art-is-kayos]

A Hypothetical.

[vill-vi]

walpurgisnacht 2 making me relive this

[not-shiny]

Orin u really need to practice your lobotomy skills

[greyscalegremlin]

my savior

i just wanted an excuse to draw kromie and Nothing There really. i love that it was referenced in canto 3 😁😁😁😁

i also think a lot about how she saw THAT thing and decided to be a horrible person

[cosmonova]

Hello residents of the City it's that time of year again

(Transparent logos)

[pixiest1cks]

i'd like to think no matter where he's at in his life, dottore likes to ramble as he works.

no matter if he's prime, or the more ill-tempered scholar from the akademiya or even omega build, dottore quietly mumbles as a habit when he's working.

some things he says aloud are just to commit certain details to memory. in the grander scheme of his plans, the details seem small-- but they hold a crucial grip on the entire project. because of this, dottore reasons that the habit holds its merits.

sometimes, he makes sarcastic remarks when something doesn't go well. short, choppy words that mostly go unheard even by those in his general vicinity. when you first worked under him, he had mumbled to himself like usual (it was second nature at that point). what he hadn't expected though, were your responses.

"stupid thing tightly screwed--"

"do you need a wrench, sir?"

before he could respond, you had one held and ready to hand to him. from then on, you would help him out here and there in his more foul moods and dottore would be lying if he said the additional assistance wasn't helpful.

the mad scientist had found an adequate assistant.

work went by smoother, toning down a good portion of his irritation. it's almost as if having someone to support you (even if it was strictly for work purposes) provided more benefits than he had originally thought. of course, he would never admit that. the most he would do is thank you here and there when you proved to be extra useful.

work continues the same for a while. the interactions grow more frequent and so his musings change from your responses. instead of talking to himself, he talks to you. he asks you for your input, for you to pass him whatever he can't reach from his other desk, he asks for you.

that is, until you're gone one day.

dottore doesn't think anything of it. he's worked alone for his whole life, what's a few days without you? but his segments have been more irritable as of late, resulting in lackluster performance as a whole not only from his segments, but his troops. the fatui are fearful of the doctor, but even more so of an irritated one. you'll turn up eventually and everything will be back to normal, he reasons.

but as the days go on, you are still nowhere to be found in the cold, desolate laboratory. he finally pauses in his work to think about where you could be.

something must've happened. something outside of his jurisdiction. it's not like it's his problem. you might've proved a useful assistant to him, but his work holds utmost priority.

yes, work. back to work.

and dottore mumbles as usual, but it's not the same.

by habit, he calls out for you to hand him something--

but you're not there.

dottore is a scholar first and foremost. all it takes to find you is a little bit of research, so he does exactly that. he finds out you've been working somewhere else, somewhere closer to home to better support your family.

well, that's no problem. he'll have his assistant back as soon as possible, no matter the cost. all he needed to know was your whereabouts.

[stainedglass-sketchbook]

CHILDREN OF BHAAL

I adore the vibe of redeemed durge your sister killed your mind and took your place - it was the greatest gift she ever gave you

[dissectiongirl]

giving my dog a lobotomy part 2

[warm-lemons]

I’ve been in a shockwave kick ever since getting knee surgery (again) on my left leg so yeah 😀

[spark-circuit]

yesod, hong lu just got eaten by a giant aztec calendar. can you give us a few.

[ms--lobotomy]

@avggendelmain YOU.

Summary: Curze's pinky is gone. I wonder what that could mean?

Word Count: 842

Content Warnings: Konrad FUCKING Curze, Body horror, mention of cannibalism and all that jazz, reader is SASSY this time around holy shit, what he's planning is as much of a shitshow as it can be with this man, war criminal uppies

Image Credit: @squishyowl (new dividers eeee)

"Your finger," you started, looking at the missing pinky on his left hand. Your eyebrows furrowed, and your mouth hung slightly open. He was standing in the doorway and leaning on it with his right arm. He had a devilish smirk on his face, trailing his left hand up and down his hips as if he wanted you to notice the missing digit.

"What about it?" he asked, his sharp teeth bright against his pale face. He was wearing a simple tunic and linen pants with pockets, along with a bright red cape that contrasted the darks of his clothes. It was a very fancy outfit for a man who typically walked around naked.

"It's..." you trailed off, folding your own hands over your stomach. You felt yourself moving slowly over, as if you weren't in control of your own footsteps. Soon you were inches away from him.

"Go on, spit it out," he said. He drummed his remaining fingers against himself before kneeling down. Even kneeling, he was the taller one.

"It's gone." You grabbed for the collar of your shirt with one hand, shakily reaching out to his with the other.

He grasped your hand, hard, and a shiver went down your spine as he all but confirmed your fears. His smallest finger was gone. Your look of primal terror was met with a calm smirk, teeth disappearing behind faint lips.

"It'll grow back," he mumbled, pressing into you. He got up and walked forwards, prompting you to walk backwards and fall onto the hardwood floor. He leered above you. His long hair framed your face, and you felt his breath hot on your cheeks. "There is something more pressing at hand."

"More pressing than losing a finger?" you asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. You've seen him eat people, flay people, and generally do multiple unkind things in quick succession. Some of them were in your name. And in your right mind, you knew that sassing him would be a bad idea. But nobody in their right mind courts Konrad Curze and lives.

"More pressing than that," he says, clearing his throat and moving off of you a little bit. You panted, exhaling deeply.

"Who died?"

Konrad let out a little chuckle, turning into a hearty if off-putting laugh. He threw his head back, and your expression turned into one of bewilderment. You felt your heart pound in your chest. Someone definitely died, and Konrad definitely had a hand in it, if an incomplete one.

"Konrad, cut the shit and tell me who died."

As Konrad composed himself, you propped yourself up on your elbows behind you. He smirked at you again, and you two made uncomfortable eye contact before he spoke.

"Nobody died, my beating heart," he said quietly. He straightened himself out and reached inside his pocket. Inside was a pale box; it may have been completely white had it not had little scars hatching it. There was a beauty mark, for lack of a better word, on it.

"That's skin," you stated.

Konrad's smile widened. "Do you know whose it is?" he asked, his other hand grasping for the side of his shirt. Your mouth opened slightly.

"Konrad, keep your shirt on. It'll heal faster." You felt the words tumble out of your mouth before you could do anything about it.

Konrad huffed. "You're no fun," he mumbled, before he stood up. He offered a hand to you. "Take it, and stand."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, taking his hand. He pulled you up, standing himself. He towered over you, relishing the moment before he knelt in front of you. His cape folded against the ground, and he looked down at you with pitch black eyes. He grabbed the top of the box with the other hand, and you knew what was going to happen.

"You are my heartbeat," he started as your eyes widened. "you are the red in my veins, the taste of iron in my mouth. I don't think I could be anything without you. So please," he said, before saying your name. He opened the box to reveal red muscle encasing an off-white band that was perfectly your size.

"Will you marry me?"

Your mouth hung open again before hesitantly reaching out to take the ring. "Konrad..." you began as two of your fingers grasped the smooth, dry material. "You already know the answer." You took the ring, and put it on your finger. As expected, it was perfectly encased.

You grinned and opened your arms up to him. He wrapped his arms around you, dropping the box to the ground as he raised you into the air. You laughed, relaxing into his touch as he spun you around. He pressed his head into your shoulder, where your skin was exposed right up next to the neck. He grazed his teeth against you in an almost-kiss, and you wrapped your arms around him.

"Don't worry," you said. "You won't hurt me."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

And also @whorety-k because they inadvertently helped me write Konards better :)

[applesauce322]

SERIOUSLY

[lu-is-not-ok]

I made this meme purely to bully a friend who consistently mistakes Yi Sang and Ayin fanart for Kim Dokja. I know nothing about ORV btw.

[a-misfortune]

New ghost eyes episode is just Tobias losing his hoes