#maybe I’ll draw the goobers

[dailynarilamb]

I think I should stop responding to what’s basically a reactionary post urging people to genuinely believe COTL is being deleted. The more I respond, the more the person who @ed me gets what they want in spreading it for “awareness.”

Anyways, fuck Unity for what they’re doing and fuck capitalism. The CEO behind this bullshit is from EA and if that doesn’t explain everything, then…. The fuck am I even alive for.

[planetvries]

thorin is feeling so normal, good for him

[thatotherman001]

Sorry I stopped uploading again

I’ll get to drawing again soon-ish

[goofalicousgooberface]

Just started watching Hannibal. I want to give William Grahm a big fat kiss on the nose

[seekerispissing]

[localdumpstertrash]

reunion

[nvuy]

hi! back with my bullshit. i've been feral about jing yuan lately, AGAIN. this man never leaves the crevices of my barely-wrinkled brain. this time, i'm thinking about sparring with him... you're both grinning and out of breath and you swear jing yuan is trying to rile you up even more with his constant grabbing you whenever he can. and then you end up pinned under him, with his big hands squeezing every piece of your skin he can like he's trying to tear you apart.. oh i'm drooling

punching bag — jing yuan

summary. you regret day in and day out that you asked general jing yuan to help you work on your swordsmanship, and it doesn’t help that he barely takes it seriously.

notes. hi mords my little goober this is for u. also for anyone that likes jing yuan. and praise. and ummm. sweaty sword fighting and making out. i guess.

warnings. minor innuendos. you can tell how i feel about jing yuan just by this piece alone.

“Stick it, old man.” Your sword blocks his, and you gasp in triumph. His blade is inches from your throat, but your own keeps it in place.

It is heavy, though. You geniunely wonder how he’s able to even fight with something that can crack a tree log in two faster than an axe can.

You pant in exasperation, and you almost choke on your spit with excitement. Though you feel as though to your face is on fire and your hair is matted with sweat, the smile on your face is golden.

General Jing Yuan grins. His teeth flash. “Well done.”

You pull back the weapon after a moment, exhausted as you swallow thickly. There’s adrenaline coursing through your veins, and your heart is pumping so sporadically you’re sure it’s about to escape from your throat.

Then, you do it again, and again, and again, and again, and your triumph slowly moulds into something worse. You feel utterly pathetic, being able to fend off the General of the Luofu as if it’s like spreading butter on bread.

To that, you lower your weapon after what seems like hours, but was only a few minutes. “Are you even trying?”

Jing Yuan teases you with a taut smile. “Why would you think otherwise? What if you’ve just dramatically improved?”

You scrunch your face up at that.

His eyes light up with mischief before he raises his weapon. “Come. Again.”

Hesitantly, you draw your blade once more. It’s the same cut as his, you’re sure, for a more even match. It’s hardly ‘even’ though, when one wrong move will have his weapon cracking yours into two. And you feel it every time you manage to stop him.

You clear your throat and stumble back for a moment. Maybe a second of pep talk and talking down to yourself. That usually works

Jing Yuan yawns when you take too long. He’s not even looking at you; rather, he’s busy observing his weapon for any impurities on the blade.

That sets you off.

Your face burns with fury and you reel your fist backwards until it flies at his stupid, dumb, handsome face.

He catches your knuckles easily with his palm. “Someone’s growing claws,” he whispers. He taps you lightly on the leg with his blade. “I am teaching you the way of the blade, first and foremost, before hand-to-hand combat.”

“Scared I’ll land a punch, old man?” you spit, trying to swipe at his face again.

“Terrified,” he responds. “Now. Shoulders back. Again.”

You huff.

Again.

He blocks.

He dodges.

You curse at him at first. He only replies with a fond chuckle.

Then, you stumble, over and over again. He manages to trip you with his foot about ten times. On the eleventh attempt, you stop his attack with a stomp on his blade, but he simply pulls it out from underneath you.

You pull the blade forward and try to slice his face in half. His weapon stops yours almost too easily.

You grow frustrated and almost throw your weapon to the floor in defeat.

“Start trying a little less?” you ask him through bated breaths.

“Having a rough time?” he teases before simply side stepping your next manoeuvre with his eyes shut, before one gentle shove of his finger against your back as you stumbling right to the floor. “Again. You aren’t balanced.”

You try to stand up, but your legs give out, and you crumble to your knees again. He’s not even holding you against the floor, and embarrassment flares in your stomach.

You try fanning at your face with your hands. The afternoon sun is beating down hot and hard, and you’re clearly not the only one struggling. Jing Yuan busies himself untying his hair to retire it since it has come loose and has begun sticking to his face.

You swallow distastefully as you stare up at him from the floor.

He straightens the ribbon in his hair and shakes out the sweat thats beginning to matt in his roots.

You’re too busy admiring his arms to give a shit about what he’s saying, considering his lips are moving. His stupidly big fucking arms. That you want him to squash you with until you can’t feel your face. And can’t breathe.

“Is that all you can take?” he hums. His palms must be sweating as he readjusts the fingerless gloves he’s wearing. He breathes out once, evenly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you huff and manage to stand to your feet. “Some people aren’t immortal beings with ridiculous spouts of stamina.”

“The stamina comes from training,” he reminds. He’s retrieved your weapon, and he holds it out to you. “And discipline.”

Whatever. Begrudgingly, you snatch it from his hand and raise it.

“Imagine as if this is a fight to the death,” is all he tells you.

And you try. You really do try.

It’s almost as if he grows extra limbs when the time calls for it. Just when you believe both his hands are busy and you find an opening, he suddenly grows a third leg, or an extra finger, or something, and he’s magically stopped your next move. He can predict your every move; he can read every time you’re thrown off guard or you’re distracted or your foot stance is off. He doesn’t so much throw you to the floor, but rather allows gravity to do the work for him.

He does ensure you have a soft landing, however. So, you suppose he can play nice sometimes — that, and the last time he offered to be your punching bag, you’d ended up hitting your head so hard on the ground that you were stuck in the hospital for three days with a horrible concussion.

“Feeling any better?” he asked curiously a few hours after you’d been admitted. He’d been kind enough to visit your little room and was busy poking at a small teddy bear one of your friends had gifted you, alongside three cards and a bouquet of flowers.

That… he’d given you. Well, you think he did, because you don’t remember seeing them before he showed up. You were too miserable to really ask about it, though, so you kept your mouth shut.

“No,” you mumbled. “I feel like… shit.”

He hums sympathetically.

“I apologise again,” Jing Yuan said softly, slotting next to you on the bed and resting a hand on your arm. “If you need me for anything, do let me know.”

You take a deep breath to try and settle your queasy stomach.

“Yeah,” you slurred. Watching him is hard work as it is; you’re already dizzy and nauseous and you were growing antsy and worried that you’d need to puke again. Negative points if the General had to witness it. “Fuckin’ catch me next time.”

He grinned and lightly pinched your cheek, much to your chagrin. “Yes, General.”

You almost fly to the floor again, and Jing Yuan grabs at your hips and straightens you quickly.

You murmur, “I’m not gonna die if I fall.” Your face is hot with blood and you try to turn away from him to hide it.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” He’s even dusting off your shoulders and slicking back the short hairs stuck to your forehead. “You’re a fragile thing. I’d hate to see you get hurt again.”

You try and throw another punch.

He clicks his tongue when you almost crash your nose into his chest plate. And you’ve done that before — and Aeons, that hurt, too.

Miserably, you drop your sword and it clatters to the ground with a terrible noise.

You raise your arms up and thwack him in the chest lightly.

He hums. “Have I told you your arms look better?” He reaches and squeezes at one of your biceps. “Much better.” He looks content, and there’s a coy smile at his lips.

Your face burns.

Your eyes are sparkling, but disdain curls over your tone. “You’re a riot, General. Do you flirt with everyone like this?”

“Maybe,” he responds quickly.

You step back and clear your throat as you retrieve your weapon. “Don’t make me jealous.”

He’s just simply dodging everything, and the flat side of his sword smashes against your stomach, neck, thighs, ribs, anywhere he can reach.

It doesn’t help with every soft land he hits on you, he follows it up with a quick, “dead.”

He taps your ankle at one point and does it again. Your teeth grit and you try to slice his hand clean off.

He easily removes himself.

“I can’t block every angle,” you defend as he straightens up. “How can I block my face and my feet at the same time?”

“By foot stance,” he chimes in lightly. “Here’s a tip: stand back. A sword as deft as this one—” He reaches forward and pinches the tip of the blade between his fingers, “—can be used decently at a distance. Don’t stand directly in front of me.” He presents his own weapon. You don’t even try to hold it up. “Because of its weight, you have a distance advantage over me. And, I have to work around it.”

You listen. You don’t want to, out of spite, but you do. You know he’s not purposefully making you feel useless; he’s told you many times he thinks your skills are impressive. He’s more so attempting to rile you up.

And it’s working.

You’re too busy admiring his biceps to care. “Nice arms.”

He displays a boyish grin just for you. “Thank you.” Then, he readjusts his grip on the hilt. “If you weren’t so busy ogling, you’d have an opening.”

“I play nice, General,” you remind him. “I’m not going to cheat.”

“If you say so,” he taunts.

And then, he lunges for you.

General Jing Yuan hasn’t once initiated a fight on his hand, and it nearly takes you off guard. It’s been a back and forth of you trying to land a clean hit, and him easily avoiding your shots.

You just about manage to hold him off when you almost trip backwards. You regain your footing and nerves wrack up your spine. He swings again. He barely misses your neck when your sword clashes with his blade.

“Good,” he murmurs. “You’re learning.”

“Ooh,” you whisper. “I love it when you stroke my ego.”

“I know.” He tries again, this time reeling back and switching the blade to his left hand to try and catch you off guard. You block that one, too.

You giggle like an idiot.

Then, you shove him backwards with your sword and go for a swipe at his nose.

It doesn’t exactly go the way you planned. Not on your part. Jing Yuan praised you afterwards for the execution, but this is the General of the Luofu, and if he wanted to win, he would win. At any cost.

He trips you over just as easily as he had the other eleven times. Your hands instinctively fly out towards the ground to cushion your fall, but you don’t quite make it all the way into the grass this time.

He catches you again, this time in some makeshift position as if you’d been dancing instead of trying to literally kill him, but he does keep your head from smashing into the floor again. You can feel the headache forming just thinking about it.

Jing Yuan knocks the sword from your hand and it falls by your feet.

“I was having fun,” you whine lowly to him. “You always spoil everything.”

There’s exhilaration there, and you feel it surge in your heart, hot and heavy. You’re excited, somewhat. The adrenaline pumps through your veins, and your skin is so warm and light you feel as though you could pop at any moment.

It doesn’t help your case that the general is so close to you, and has a smile so wide you’re worried his face will split into two.

You admire him for a moment too long.

A moment so long that his grin grows impossibly wider, and mischief flares in his eyes.

His grip loosens.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

You scrabble in a panic and your arms swing around his shoulders.

He holds you again with a snicker.

“You win,” you declare finally. “I’m going home.”

“Sure.” He doesn’t move. “If you can free yourself, that is.”

You barely try to wriggle from his grasp before sighing. “C’mon. I’m tired.” His grip doesn’t even loosen his hold in the slightest. “We can do this tomorrow.”

“This is your last test,” he announces, somewhat dramatically. “Imagine that this is your final moment to choose between life and death.” With one hand still encircling your waist, the other lets go reach downward just enough to retrieve your sword. “There is very little you can do.”

The sword gently taps against your sternum, angled just enough for the tip to barely threaten a carving into your chest.

You claw at his arms, but he doesn’t budge. Your back strains with the position he holds you in, and your legs barely have enough leverage to keep you standing.

You are quite literally at his mercy.

And again, your footwork is off.

You grunt when he leans in close. Way too close for comfort. You feel somewhat like a caged animal, and you’re sure you look the part.

“There are decisions you can make, however,” he chides. “Five seconds. Think.”

You glance down at your weapon pointed at your chest. You hesitantly unwrap your arms from around his neck and try and grab at it.

In the time it’s taken you to muster the courage to let go of him, his grip loosens around your waist again. Your heart drops and you quickly curl your arms around his shoulders again.

“Too slow,” is all he remarks. “Four.”

You make a desperate attempt at wriggling from his grasp, but he only chuckles at your futility.

“Three.”

You almost give up. “This is dumb.”

“Two.”

You narrow your eyes at him. The worst idea springs to mind, and for the final second, you second-guess yourself.

“One–”

Your hands shift from his arms to his cheeks, and you draw him as close as you could before you strained your neck upwards.

Your lips press against his in a last ditch effort as a distraction, and for a moment, you believe it doesn’t work. He completely freezes up and stiffens in your grasp like a corpse.

The sword still presses to your chest, and you find it uncomfortable to inhale for a moment. It feels as though one wrong move will send the sharpened blade driving forth into your skin.

And then, he drops the weapon in favour of slotting his hand behind your head and keeping you on him. The sound of metal hitting the floor rings distantly in your ears.

His lips are coated in sweat, and you taste salt and oranges. The scent is addicting enough, oddly, and you sigh into his mouth with relief.

His hand wanders. Not dangerously, but enough to keep you alert. It slides from your hair to your throat, and it remains against your jugular for a good long while. His thumb then flutters to the notch and keeps you still and placated.

Then, he rubs gently at your sternum, as if in apology. You pay it no mind. Your hands are still, save for the gentle stroke at the nape of his neck.

He’s teasing you, you figure out, even when he’s all wrapped around your finger like the ribbon in his hair. He pulls away constantly to see if you’ll give chase, and of course you do.

You’d feel almost pathetic if he wasn’t eagerly returning the kiss like an idiot.

He then pulls away. Much too quickly for your liking.

You frown and try to tug at his hair to bring him on your tongue.

Jing Yuan presses his fingers to your lips. “I thought you said you played nice?”

“Whatever, handsome,” you mumble. You reach upwards and tussle his already messy hair.

His lips are red with spit. Your spit. You did that. Gross.

Your heart flutters and you giggle.

“That would’ve been a good time to throw a punch,” he says after a moment.

You think about it. Then, you reel your fist back and aim at his face. “Sure.”

His other arm holds strong wrapped around your waist when he catches your wrist. Instead, he places soft kisses along your knuckles.

Something hot bubbles in your stomach. Easy.

“Will you kiss every opponent that bests you like that?” Jing Yuan asks quietly, a sneaking grin growing on his reddened lips.

You hum softly and cup his face gently. “Maybe.”

He scoffs lightly. “Don’t make me jealous.”

[jackobbit]

RAAAAAAAA

It’s!!! It’s something!!! Certainly not my best work but I haven’t drawn in like a week so I’ll TAKE IT

Have some Solar Flare being a goober :]

Maybe I’ll do something similar with my Bloodmoon soon enough, but for now, we’ve got this!

[ID: A filled, digitally drawn doodle page that depicts Solar Flare from the working for E.V.I.L. Au in various poses, all are placed against a white background. Solar Flare is a boxy orange and yellow robot with several bent Sun-like rays, large triangular shoulder pads and large limbs. They have dark eyes with lighter pupils, and an air vent for a mouth. From left to right, they are first depicted from the chest and up with a bashful expression as they press the tips of their index fingers together. Next, they are seen looking over their shoulder. To the right of that is a small doodle of the character as a melted ice cream bar on a stick, complete with one eye dropping further down than the other. To the far right is a picture of Solar Flare with an angry expression, smoke bellowing from their air vent mouth. To the far left is a drawing of Solar Flare winking as they hold a large bouquet of purple flowers behind their back, followed by a doodle of them stimming happily by waving their arms up and down. This is followed by a doodle of Solar Flare as an autism creature, and then one full body image of Solar Flare extending one hand out towards the viewer. The bottom right hand corner is comprised of three doodles, the first being Solar Flare smiling at a bird that has perched on their hand, Solar Flare standing with their arms behind their back, and finally a doodle of them holding up one arm to present a floating Star. /End ID]

[kiridoesrandomthings]

doing #cringetober and ofc the first thing i draw had to be these goofy goobers (ignore the fact i didnt draw a background and just chested chat im lazy LMAOO)— its not very good and kinda rushed bc i wanted to get it done before the day was technically over but we did our best folks 👊👊👊 maybe i’ll post the rest of the prompts here if yall want lol

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

These ideas refused to leave me until they became reality, so here we are.

This one is titled: The Last Thing Tomas Expected his Daughter to do. How did Asha convince Ceph to learn how to read? Idk. Maybe she bribed him. Or maybe he just wants to do something with his new friend. Hopefully he pays attention during his lessons and behaves.

And this one is titled: Trouble in the Kitchen (in an Alternate Universe). I doubt this is going to end well for Sabino's kitchen. Hopefully the house doesn't get burned down. Low-key I had to draw this because I re-read chapters 20 & 30 and they made me sad because of their backstories. So I needed to draw them being happy little goobers. ;-; It didn't help that Cat's Meow (Princess & the Pauper) played as I was drawing panel 3 of the first comic. Their little happy faces while a song about not needing to change who you are because others think you are strange really hit the heartstrings and fit them so well. T0T Let alone 'In My Head Like a Catchy Song' playing again. My playlist was against me for this.

Awwww look at them they’re so CUTE 🥹🥹🥹 ((cute and very bad lol)) also Tomas’s face had me rolling this poor man-the stars better pay him extra for this! (idk how she convinced him to learn how to read either)) 🤣🤣🤣

Also OOOOOOOOO Chapter 20 is where I was talking about during my re-read! You’re looking right at it!

I’ll give in and tell you all where to look: Sakina. 🛶

[hellothisisangle]

i love your silly goober (cae). he is giving me inspo and motivation to play and make bg3 tavs!!! i love his piercings. nipple piercing fans, UNITE!

💪Yes I’ve spent so many hours just in the character creator, maybe I’ll draw/post some of my favorites.

Adding a bunch of backlogged asks below:

So kind 😭 thank you!

Dude people love when they see someone went like all the way down the feed, hope you had a good time!

Have you taken your daily vitamins today?

Nice, post it!

Hey I just met you and this is crazy

Thank you so very much! I’ve always been into fashion, Caelum is the most recent toy I’m obsessed with and everything looks good on him. I dare someone to send me an ugly outfit

Honestly I’m always experimenting and trying new things. In the past I would shy away from color cause I was terrified of it, everything I colored looked like hot puke (or at least to me it did). I’m lucky to have the time to indulge myself in tutorials and practice like I wasn’t able to before

Totally fine! I appreciate anyone and everyone that likes my silly drawings ❤️

Who said there was a limit 😂

[goofalicousgooberface]

I just KNOW Cecilia and Hannibal would get along. THEY JUST WOULD.

[casp1an-sea]

100 follower event!

I finally figured out what to do for 100 followers! I’m going to make a digital sticker for everyone! (If your an irl I can technically give it to you in person) I know it’s not much, maybe I’ll think of something to add to it later, but I’m really exited about reaching this milestone and I wanted to do something for you guys! I may not be as fast as I want to because i have A LOT of unanswered art asks spanking months but I am going to commit to this. I am working on a post about how everything Will work so please wait till then to ask questions. I Will be tagging all my moots in it, but if you are a follower of my main blog or my side blog @hux-and-gay you can be included :)

—————————————————————————

@xen-blank, @thehollowwriter, @l7k-a,, @keii-starz

@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb

@theosb0rnway @fizzydreamz @ravenwing0110

@diabollicallyangelic

@dragonflies-draw-flame @sunshinechildskywalker @silly-little-goober-core

@nancyreadsandwrites @cyan-magenta-your-mom

@lessdenied @fives-ren @thegeneralorder

@existing-sadly

@hpdmism @fridayincarnate

@rommonoch @tomatette @jaynesilver

@transmasc-vampire-is-tired

[theluckywizard]

Kiss Me Moonstruck, Ch 4: Some Manner of Street Fight

Hawke x Trevelyan | DA2 | Matchmaking Mischief | Fluff and Smut | Fish out of Water | Romantic Comedy

Chapter Summary: Garrett Hawke has to deal with the grasping rat who interrupted his introduction to the Trevelyans. Unfortunately, all his friends— and enemies— want to talk about is her. Fic Summary: Smashed together in a matchmaking scheme cooked up by their enterprising mothers, Garrett Hawke and Rose Trevelyan are forced to endure one another for a whole week over Satinalia at the Hawke Estate. Rose hears he’s a swashbuckling treasure hunter, as wild as he is handsome and as ill-bred as he is rich. Garrett suspects she’s a brat of an ingenue with a string of rejected marriage proposals behind her. Determined to prove to the other that they could not be less compatible, they quickly find their mothers’ plot might be working better than they thought.

Excerpt under the cut 👇

“Extortion’s never really been a favorite of mine, you know,” says Garrett cheerfully, drawing his sword from the sheath swinging at his side. He tosses it lightly in a little show, admiring how the torchlight flashes on each side of the fuller. “But shameless creature that I am, I suppose I’m tough to blackmail.” “A man does what he must,” says Dougal, easy tucked amid his muscle. “You’ve already interrupted Hawke’s special day,” says Isabela. “Now you’re threatening to kill his mother?” She looks impressed by the gall. Or his stupidity. “Oh ho!” cries Dougal, his brows bouncing high. “Special day?” Garrett rolls his eyes lightly. “It’s not that special.” “Well now you have to tell me,” says the rat. Garrett grumbles his way into relenting. “If you must know—”   “—Hawke’s mother is trying to set him up with a wife!” finishes Merrill, utterly delighted. “A wife? You?” Dougal’s initial snickers quickly escalate into a wheezing laugh that doubles him over. He clutches his side, recovering himself while his men chuckle along dutifully. Frankly, Garrett couldn’t agree more. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m claiming my due now. She’ll drain your coffers dry and run off with the stable boy.” Garrett smiles, shaking his head as he slips his shield onto his left arm. “Unfortunately for you, today’s not your day,” he says. He gestures with his chin at the men around Dougal. “Why don’t you let all these nice people head along home to their lovely spouses and fight me man to man like the Maker intended?” “You and I both know I pay good coin for this backup.” “Good, is it?” Garrett asks. He turns to the dwarves. “I’ll pay you double this month’s wages to fuck right off right now! Toss in a wheel of cheese for your trouble!” They shift uncomfortably on their feet, trading a few stolen glances, but ultimately remain silent. “You can’t buy their loyalty. They’re all family!” laughs Dougal in triumph. “Though maybe you don’t quite understand. I heard you notoriously lost your family during your little expedition.” “Bold blazing words from an actual turkey. Come on then. Let’s get this over with.”

Read the rest here Start the fic here

My goobers (illustration by me from my DA:I long fic)

DAFF Crew:

@about2dance | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @blarrghe | @bluewren | @breninarthur

@crackinglamb | @delicatefade | @dreadfutures | @effelants | @exalted-dawn-drabbles |

@hekaerges | @inquisimer | @ir0n-angel | @leggywillow |

@oxygenforthewicked | @plisuu | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @warpedlegacy

[belovedstilldear]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!! I'm 17 now wow, what's next? Maybe post the goddamn Entry Number Eighteen Chapter!!!

If um,, Anyone's willing to draw any art for me for my birthday uhh.. draw the goobers or entry18 sans and papyrus (no link needed they're right there but you can look through the tag too in my profile) and @ me in the post! I'll 100% reblog all of it hehe <3

**IMPORTANT: THIS WAS POSTED A DAY EARLY THANKS TO TIME CHANGE (AAAGGHHH…) BUT I’LL TRY TO REBLOG ART FROM YOU GUYS..

Sanses and Papyruses:

Lust & Rut -> Beloved!Underlust Clown, Hearts, Monster & Spider -> Goobers Entry & Sword -> Entry Number Eighteen

(without the letters)

[jam-showtoonz]

My progression of drawing Fnaf/ Security Breach/ SaMS characters! (+ 2 ocs)

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My first drawing of Sun! Or maybe the second I’m not too sure. I actually showed this on the discord once.

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My SB oc old and new design- he’s a lil goober. There is lore to him but I haven’t done anything with him since the year Security Breach came out.

I still love him though.

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When Moon got turned into a Furry- personally this is one of my favourites- even though I didn’t finish it.

Honestly I thought Moon looked adorable when he knelt down- he’s a lil puppy.

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Old redesign of sun- I’ll be honest I like this design but I also hate it. I feel like this is more so what servant Sun looks like- if a bit more tidied up.

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My oc/ au Eclipse! He is a father of two and has astrophobia- (a fear of space/stars) he also wears glass because he is in fact blind without them.

Despite being Sun and Moons younger brother he is the tallest.

His two children are: Lunar Eclipse and Solar Eclipse. Lunar is the more mature one of the two but is also more violent.

Yes he has four arms- yes he is slightly animal styled- no he doesn’t act anything like the eclipse from TSaMS- no he has never died.

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Another Sun redesign- I redesign him a lot.

And then there is the stuff already posted on my page.

There is probably more but I have no idea where they are and honestly the likely hood of finding them is little to none.