#my most visible obvious scar is on my leg

[jjkamochoso]

JJK Men Reacting to You Self Harming

Angst, fluff

Request from Wattpad

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing, sensitive topic at hand under the break!!! Please do not read if this will trigger you in any way, shape, or form. My only intent is to comfort those who might need it❤️ there won't be any super graphic depictions, but I will mention scars, bruises, blood, etc. so please be mindful of your ability to read this without causing discomfort! Remember that you are worthy and loved, and there are so many other things you can occupy your mind with than hurting yourself... please take care of yourselves❤️

Yuji:

You and Yuji were sparring like you usually did, opting to practice together since you made a great team. Your training shorts were just long enough to cover your self harm scars and since they were older, you weren’t too worried about them showing; you assumed no one would see them and if they did, wouldn’t guess how you got them. Yuji grabbed ahold of your legs and flipped you over his shoulder, your body landing in the grass with a heavy thud.

“Good move, Itadori,” you huffed out, taking his outstretched hand as he shot you his trademark smile.

“Thanks, y/n! By the way, those sure are some scars you have on your legs! Whatever you were fighting must’ve been a really strong opponent.”

“Something like that,” you said under your breath. You felt Yuji’s eyes observe your scars that were now visible and hoped he wouldn’t ask anymore questions.

“They’re awfully straight and neat,” he mused before turning serious. “Wait. These look like…” He didn’t finish his sentence but the way you avoided his gaze gave him his answer. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

“That’s horrible, y/n, I’m sorry you ever felt like you needed to do that to yourself. I know my support probably isn’t enough to immediately make you quit doing it, but just know I’m here for you if you need someone to talk to. Self harm is never the right answer.”

You melted into his loving embrace. “I already feel better, Yuji. Thank you. Seriously.”

Megumi:

You ran right to your dorm room after having an extremely bad day, eager to shut out the world and release your frustrations on your legs. You grabbed the familiar tool from your nightstand, creating the all too familiar marks on your body. All of a sudden, you heard a knock at your dorm door.

“Y/n? You in there?” Megumi called out. You quickly covered your mouth with your hands, accidentally cutting your finger with the razor blade and letting out a small whimper from the unexpected pain.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, opening the door.

“Please don’t!” you yelled out, but it was too late; he was standing in your room, his eyes trailing over the blood beading out of various parts of your body. He was completely emotionless as he walked out, leaving you to try and comprehend what just happened. You figured he’d never want to talk to you again; your weakness probably disgusted him. You gently dabbed at your wounds with a tissue but they wouldn’t stop bleeding. To your utter surprise, Megumi came back, a bottle of water, clean rag, and bandages in his grip.

“What are you doing?” you breathed out.

“Cleaning you up,” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You sat in silence as he softly wiped your leg, bandaging your cuts. He then grasped your hand, cleaning and bandaging that wound as well.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he eventually asked tentatively.

“Not really,” you replied, “but I should. I’ve been hiding this for so long that it strangely feels… okay that someone knows.”

“Good. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this to yourself ever again.”

Yuta:

"Y/n! What happened? When did you get hurt?"

You turned around in the hallway that was completely abandoned, save for you and the wide eyed boy that had just passed you by.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" you responded, thoroughly confused.

Yuta tilted his head. "Your leg is bleeding through the bandage. I saw it when I walked by you."

Your head whipped down to look at your thigh and saw the bandage you had applied earlier that day was now dangerously close to falling off.

"It's nothing!" you exclaimed much too quickly for Yuta's comfort.

"Are you sure? Let me help you change it," he suggested, walking closer to you at an alarmingly fast rate.

"No! I'm okay, I promise." You spun around, ready to hightail it to your room, but Yuta was too quick. He had gotten ahold of your arm to keep you from running and peeked under the bandage, observing the long marks riddling your skin.

"Y/n," he breathed out, "these aren't marks from a mission, are they?"

You didn't know how to answer him without making a fool of yourself.

"Please don't tell anyone!" you pleaded, knowing he had caught on to your horrible habit.

"I would never," he replied, his eyes glistening with sadness at the thought of you hurting yourself, "but you should. Or at least try to stop. You don't deserve this punishment you're inflicting on yourself."

You stayed silent, unsure what to say. Yuta brought you into a bone crushing hug, his tears falling onto your shoulder.

"I will help you get through this. Just, please, don't burden yourself with this any longer. I'm right by your side, always."

Inumaki:

As you opened your dorm door to go get breakfast, you saw a note resting on the ground outside. It was lying underneath a freshly picked flower and you hummed in excitement, wondering what all of this was about.

You read the first line of the now-unfolded note: Please don’t be mad at me~

You recognized the handwriting to be Toge’s and you sighed, reading on to see what he did this time.

I’m not sure how to approach this correctly so I hope you understand that I only want the best for you. I saw your fresh scars when we were playing video games last night and I wanted to ask you about them but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I hope you know that you are worthy and loved, and that you should never feel anything less than. I can’t imagine how much you must be struggling to be able to hurt yourself in such a way. I want you to know I’m here for you and want to help in any way I can. Seeing you hurt so bad SUCKS. Please come to me when you’re feeling down. I’m always here for you.

—Toge

Reading his letter made you feel like you were going through all the stages of grief, but by the last sentence, you didn’t feel anything but relief. When you glanced up from the paper, you saw Toge strolling about, trying to look as casual as possible.

“I’m not mad, you know,” you called out. Toge’s eyes brightened immediately and he practically ran over to you.

“Thank you for this,” you said, gesturing to the flower. He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Also, thank you for saying something. I know that must’ve been hard, but I’m glad you did. It’s something I’ve dealt with for such a long time but knowing I have someone to turn to is… I’m grateful for you.”

“Tuna,” he replied, giving you a comforting hug.

Noritoshi:

Noritoshi was helping you clean out your bedroom when you stumbled upon your collection of razor blades. You hadn’t used them in a while but you saved them just in case your habit reared its ugly head. You urgently yet discreetly tried to move them out of view but he was too fast.

“What are those for?” he wondered, taking a step closer to you.

“Nothing,” you replied suspiciously, holding the box behind your back. “It’s just trash, that’s all.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not stupid. What’s in there?”

You bolted from his unyielding stare, hoping to throw the box away in a dumpster outside, but the Kamo clan heir was too fast and blocked your path away from utter embarrassment.

“Show me. Now. Because I think I saw razor blades in there and I want to make sure.”

“What does it matter?” you seethed as Noritoshi took the collection from your hands. With his fear confirmed, he set the box out of your reach.

“Next time, cut me.”

“What?” you asked incredulously.

“Cut me,” he repeated, his voice steady. “If you hurt so bad that you want to punish yourself, punish me instead.”

“I could never hurt you like that, Noritoshi,” you said, your voice small. “It would kill me to see you in pain.”

He walked over and gently took your hand in his. “That’s exactly how I feel knowing you hurt yourself in the same manner. Do you understand what I mean?”

You did—that’s what bothered you the most.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I care about you and because of that, I worry for you. If you hurt, I hurt. If you bleed, I do too. You don’t have to struggle on your own. I’m here for you, day and night. When you need something, anything, please, get ahold of me. I don’t want you opening this good for nothing box ever again.”

You looked deep into his anxious eyes before burying yourself in a hug with him. “I promise to come to you when I need help. Thank you for being here for me.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do.”

Todo:

You didn’t know how it happened—one minute you were eating lunch with Todo, the next you had blood dripping from your now opened wounds on your legs. You knew you should’ve bandaged yourself before leaving your dorm this morning but you thought your wounds weren’t serious enough for that. As you tried to dab at your scars with your napkin, Todo stood up in distress.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, slamming his fists together in anger.

“I did,” you replied sheepishly. Todo stopped, confusion sweeping over him.

“I don’t get it,” he replied, “did you mean you accidentally hurt yourself?”

“No,” you said nervously. You debated on telling him the truth or not, but he had already seen your scars. It was only a matter of time before he asked the other students what had happened to you, describing the appearance of your wounds, and then the whole Kyoto school would know your secret.

“I self harm,” you admitted, “and I’m ashamed. I’m weak. I let my emotions control me and the only way I gain back control is by hurting myself. It’s pathetic, I know.”

“No it’s not,” he said immediately. “I may not understand it, but I know it’s not pathetic. To fight your own mind like that… that is a battle not easily won.”

“You got that right,” you remarked.

“If you allow me, I will help you fight. We’re not meant to take on enemies alone. I will do everything in my power to make sure you never feel so low as to hurt yourself again. This is my most sincere promise.”

Todo put a hand over his heart as he gazed at you with utmost certainty. You didn’t know what to say; his immediate response overwhelmed you in the best way possible.

“Aoi, I… just, thank you,” you said, wrapping your arms around the huge man. He returned the gesture tenfold, holding you close to him.

“Anything for you.”

Ino:

“Hey y/n, it’s Ino. Listen, can you meet me at my apartment in like, half hour? I need to talk to you. It’s nothing serious-wait, I guess it is, but, like, no one’s dying or anything. But yeah it is serious but not worryingly so. Just moderate serious. Okay, let me know. Bye!”

You stared at your phone screen for a good minute trying to process the chaotic voicemail you received. You sent Ino a text saying you’d be there and he opened his door on your first knock.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you with my voicemail but I really need to tell you something. Well, more like ask you something, too, but that’s beside the point. Anyway, I’ll get right to it. I saw the scars on your thighs the other day and they looked like self harm ones to me. I hope I’m not making a huge mistake asking you this but… do you? Hurt yourself, I mean?” he asked, ending his rant. You were quiet for a second too long in Ino’s eyes so he raced to fill the silence with explanation.

“Not that you need to tell me or anything! I’m chill with you doing what you need to do to cope with things but that’s not exactly the best way to do it. Not that I’m a professional! I’m also not trying to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, I just want what’s best for you and-”

“Ino, take a breath, please,” you said, releasing a short laugh as you rested a hand on his. “I’m fine with you bringing this up, weirdly enough. I thought the first time someone found out I’d be freaking out but… I don’t know. It feels good to not be the only one who knows, you know?”

“Oh? Oh! Wow, yes, that is good,” he replied, pulling his beanie off and swiping his free hand through his hair before turning more serious once more. “Again, I’m sorry for springing this on you but I’m worried for you. I hate seeing you in pain and not feeling like you can share your troubles with me. You shouldn’t have to take your frustrations out on yourself. I’m always gonna be here for you to talk things out, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, wiping the stray tear from your cheek. “Thank you. I appreciate you more than you know.”

“And I care about you more than you think.”

Gojo:

"Geez, you have a bad run in with a cat or somethin'?" Gojo asked, peering down at you with his one eye uncovered by his blindfold.

"What are you yammering about, Gojo? Some of us are trying to work here," you said, rolling your eyes. You were currently at a cafe with Satoru, sending a quick email from your phone before digging into your pastries.

"Your leg" was all he said, a long pale finger pointing at your shorts-clad thigh, but it was enough to make you feel like you were about to drop dead from cardiac arrest. He had seen your self harm scars.

"Oh, those. Yeah, a cat," you grumbled, tucking your leg away where he could no longer see it. You pretended to be enveloped in your phone but Satoru knew something was wrong.

"You're acting weird and the more I think about it, those markings were weird too. Unless that cat really hated your guts."

You ignored him which only made him pester you worse about it.

"What'd you do to it? Step on its tail? Pull its whiskers? C'mon, tell m-"

"It wasn't a fucking cat, Satoru, I did it to myself, okay? Just drop it," you exploded. For once in his life, Satoru was speechless. You were so ashamed of your confession that you stood abruptly from your chair.

"I'm going home," you told him, leaving your food behind as you slammed the cafe doors open. You didn't want the strongest sorcerer to hear about your struggles, your weaknesses.

You certainly weren't expecting him to follow you.

"Wait! Y/n, hold on," he called out, his long legs easily catching up with you.

"Leave me alone. I don't want your pity," you snarled.

"Pity? No way, I just..." He was trying to think of the best way to approach this newfound information without scaring you off. "I just want to talk to you about it. A genuine, serious discussion."

You stopped walking. "Who are you and what have you done with Satoru?"

He pouted. "I'm not joking. I don't want you to feel like you have to resort to hurting yourself ever again, and I think it might be helpful if you know you can come to me about anything. But I can't help if I don't know the whole truth."

You contemplated it for a moment, but you knew Satoru wouldn't offer to do something he didn't actually want to do.

"Okay, yeah. That would be nice. Thanks."

Satoru wore a small smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Now, c'mon. No good therapy session starts on an empty stomach."

Geto:

You and Suguru were enjoying a fun day at the beach, playing in the water and frolicking in the sand. As you laid on the blanket to indulge in the picnic he laid out for you, your shorts rode up your leg a bit, showcasing your newest self harm scars. You were completely oblivious, indulging in yummy fruit while Suguru couldn’t tear his eyes from your marked skin.

“Y/n, darling? Have you been feeling alright… emotionally?”

Your arms bristled with goosebumps but it wasn’t from the cold fruit you just swallowed.

“What brought that question on?” you asked nervously, trying to casually pull down the leg of your shorts to cover the scars. Little did you know it was too late.

“I won’t mince my words. I just saw your scars and I know you did that to yourself.” He reached out to grab your hands but you backed away from him in horror.

“Suguru! It’s not what it looks like, I-”

“It’s alright, I’m not upset. I’m just extremely worried,” he explained, his eyes muddled with guilt. “I wish I had seen it earlier. I know what it’s like to struggle. I want to be there for you so you don’t drown in pain like I did.”

You listened to his words, carefully soaking in everything he said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you replied quietly. Suguru reached for you again but this time you didn’t back away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner,” he responded. “Will you allow me to help you?”

After a few moments of decision, you nodded your head. “Of course. I trust you and I’m ready to release this heavy weight I’ve been feeling for so long.”

“I’m glad,” Suguru said, giving your hand a squeeze as he looked out at the sparkling sea.

Nanami:

"Darling? Everything alright in there?"

You mentally cursed yourself out. You had been upset all day over something minor and, yet again, took your frustrations out on yourself, but you must have been too loud this time, your hisses of pain overheard by your boyfriend Kento in the other room.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" you called out, not wanting him to walk in on you as you tried to bandage yourself up as quickly as possible. You heard footsteps come closer to the bathroom door.

"Are you sure? You sound like you're in distress."

"I said I'm fine," you snapped back, holding a towel to your injuries to staunch the bleeding. You saw the door handle move and your breath caught in your throat--in your haste, you hadn't locked it.

"Don't come in!" you yelled, but it was too late. Kento's eyes trailed over your bleeding thigh, confusion written all over his face. He stepped closer and you grimaced, knowing nothing got past his watchful eye.

"Those markings... you..." He trailed off, a look of knowing crossing over his features. "You sit. I'll clean you up."

Your face burned with embarrassment but you did as he said, not wanting to make things harder on yourself. It was quiet as he kneeled before you and patched you up, the silence making your heart skip a beat.

"You don't have to do this to yourself," he said simply after a long bout of silence. When you didn't reply, he looked up.

"The world is already cruel. You don't have to punish yourself further," he stated, his eyes softening at your exhausted body language.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," he interrupted. "Don't be. If anything, I should apologize for not noticing sooner." His fingers traced over your previous scars as he placed the last bandage on and took hold of your hands. "Do you want to talk about it? Whatever's been bothering you? You shouldn't have to suffer alone."

You nodded, grateful for his lack of judgement.

"I'll make us some tea first," he told you, placing a kiss on the top of your forehead. "I love you and I'm always here for you. No matter what."

Choso:

You were busy hanging out with Choso at your apartment, watching tv and enjoying your time together.

“Could you get me a hair tie please?” you asked Choso. “I have one on my bathroom counter.”

“Of course,” he replied with a gentle smile, eager to help you in any way he could. You thought nothing of sending him in there until he hadn’t come back after a good 5 minutes. You followed after him, wondering if you had inadvertently put the hair tie away and confused the poor man.

“Did you find it?” you called out from your bathroom doorway. Choso turned around and you gasped immediately. In his hands were the bloody tissues you used that morning which he must’ve pulled from the trash; you forgot to empty the can before he came over.

“Y/n… what is all of this? Did you get hurt and I didn’t notice? I could’ve bandaged you up. Are you alright now?”

You felt like your world was crumbling down. How could you lie to the man standing in front of you who looked like he was about to start sobbing? You floundered for an excuse but found none—your mind was totally blank.

“I, um, this morning… it’s not your fault you didn’t notice. I’d actually prefer it if you never noticed. I don’t know how to tell you but… I hurt myself.”

His face contorted into confusion. “How? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You paused. “Actually, no, I’m not fine. I cut myself many, many times. It’s a horrible, nasty habit that I can’t seem to kick and I’m sorry that I kept it from you and I’m sorry that you found out this way and I’m also sorry that-”

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly, dropping the tissues back into the trash and scooping you into a hug. “I don’t understand why you would do something like that, but I want to. I swore to protect you from anything and I intend to uphold that promise. Please, let me help you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Okay. I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to… to heal.”

Toji:

“I hope you don’t mind but I let myself in.”

You jumped up with a start at the sound of Toji’s voice. You forgot you had given him a key to your place! Normally you’d be ecstatic to see him but you didn’t want him to see you in your current outfit. Since you weren’t expecting company, you were lounging around in shorts, leaving your self harm scars on display.

“I need to change!” you spurt out, clamoring to get away from the large man, but he was too quick (and eagle eyed).

“Those are some brutal scars you got there,” he remarked, pointing to your legs. “I can’t imagine what the other guy looked like after your fight.”

Toji expected you to laugh, or at the very least let out a tiny sigh from your nose, but you were deadly silent.

He frowned. “What’d I say?”

“N-no, nothing, I…” you trailed off. You didn’t know how to tell him. You wished you could’ve played it off, went along with his joke, anything but be in the situation you’re in now. You drew in a deep breath. You couldn’t hide this from him forever, anyway.

“They aren’t from fights. I did it to myself,” you explained, not meeting his eyes. Now it was Toji’s turn to be quiet. You were afraid to see his reaction. Would he laugh at you? Leave, slamming the door and never coming back?

No, Toji was…comforting you?

You felt a large hand grasp your shoulder, prompting you to finally face him. You were greeted with his serious expression, features set in a rare show of resoluteness from the man.

“Never, ever, do that shit again, okay? No matter what you’re feeling or thinking. You come to me the second you feel any type of feeling that might lead to that again. There’s no way I’m letting let you add another mark to that pretty skin of yours.”

You nodded, fighting back tears at his unexpected understanding of your situation.

“Now c’mere,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

[ancientbygone]

simulacra 3 [take me back to eden]

[sundowning] [tpwbyt]

Sleep's mimic forms of the vessels during the time period of TMBTE, because i can't be normal and start a series from the beginning and not the end.

more info + design breakdowns under the cut:

[obligatory "when talking about the vessels, i'm talking about characters" disclaimer]

background info on the whole idea:

Sleep as a being is shapeless in my mind; more of a concept than a creature. it can manifest as sort of an absence of light in any shape to others, usually to appeal to feeling/emotion. the only "rule" for that is that whatever Sleep tries to appear as cannot look more or less innocent/powerful than Sleep actually is, which usually manifests in two things: the size being different from the thing/person it's imitating, scaled according to power, and/or added features, usually in some way threatening or regal.

one of Sleep's more consistent forms it takes throughout interacting with Vessel is mimicking him, partially to create an illusion of the two being more similar than they actually are and partially because Sleep used to exist as Vessel's shadow when they'd just met. the visual itself has changed through time (you can see what it was like during Sundowning in my Higher artwork), and during TMBTE that visual is pretty much the titular song's character with the most minor tweaks (which is why i didn't draw it separately).

all that made me think about the idea of Sleep mimicking the other vessels just to fuck with Vessel further (to be clear, i am a strong believer that Sleep only interacts with Vessel in any way). so now here are the designs of those mimics during the events of TMBTE, utilizing the album's song characters much like the Vessel mimic. because again, i have to start a series from the end, i guess.

"ii"/ii mimic (song character used: AYROK)

the main idea driving the design of "ii" is the real ii's goal to keep Vessel more or less safe by being by his side in worshipping Sleep, which is the reason he'd decided to become the second vessel in the first place. the choice of AYROK as the character to use in this design is obvious. one of the ideas that stem from that is ii's duty/desire to keep his face hidden for Vessel's sake; only his hands are visible & detailed because that's the only part of him Vessel remembers before either of them became vessels of Sleep and the only part ii has really shown after that. another is ii's timidity in telling Vessel to go against Sleep's will because he fears that no matter how bad it may be, it'll be much worse if Vessel doesn't follow it. that part comes through in the pose - shyly holding his hands together as if they're tied.

"iii"/iii mimic (song character used: Aqua Regia)

the song character inspo being Aqua Regia is mostly because of the calmer nature of the song and the dynamic duo it makes with Vore, less so the themes of the lyrics. also its visual design. iii mimic's design themes are iii's adoration/borderline obsession with Vessel (wearing Vessel's jewelry and having elements of his robe in his shirt + his own face/mask slowly melting off) and his enagement with worship as an act/aesthetic rather than something more serious (the overabundance of jewelry and accessories; the extra arms; the body language; the cuffs around his arms and legs being decorative and not actually restricting). also the rings on his fingers make a checkered pattern.

"iv"/iv mimic (song character used: Vore)

the use of Vore for "iv" is obvious too. song wouldn't be the same without his real life self. the design really just aims to combine iv with the Vore character, but there are two big things here. the simplest one is anger issues, which is why he's So Goddamn Spiky and why his jacket looks like scarred skin rather than painted & customized. the anger mostly shows up in the body language: most of the time "iv" just stares unblinkingly with pure palpable ire in the two glowing dots for eyes, and when he does move it's very stiff and snappy and barely controlled. the other thing is that, simply speaking, the real iv got into this whole mess without knowing the full extent of it and now he's in too deep and kinda losing himself. in the design it's expressed through the human features gradually turning into bug-like, such as the hoodie fading into a segmented millipede-like body and the fucked up mantis hands, and the gold of the original iv's mask melting over the face with the horns being part of it. the spikes protrude from him in a way that makes it difficult to distinguish between jacket decorations and actual parts of his body, but the spines are definitely from his body & allow me to live the dream of iv with a mohawk LMAO

anyway have fun with these go nuts i'll make similar sheets & posts for Sundowning and TPWBYT eventually

[theydragon]

Body HCs// True to my Taash may have a pt.2 if I think of more!

Taash is very confident in their body and takes pride in it. They do have occasional dysphoria mostly centered around things their body does or how it looks in certain things. Taash doesn't really want to change their body but does wish it was more consistently they way they liked it. They'd gladly give up their bottom bits for other ones, even more so if they didn't get periods anymore, but aren't so discontent with what they got that they are seeking out people to make those changes.

When it comes to their breasts they are just...a pair of tits. Everyone has tits. Some have really nice tits. Some have really flat tits. They are a body part for Taash but some people really know how to dress them up nicely, this is not Taash. Taash does not really flaunt their chest but if it happens to be kind of out its kind of out. If people are hot and bothered by how they wear their chest Taash is a bit smug about it but otherwise its not different than someone checking out their muscles.

Taash is a damn good dragon hunter and damn good lord of fortune which means they don't have many big scars or lingering ones. There are some mostly where the gaps in their armor are as well as one near the base of their crystal horn. If one looks closely there are a dozen or more tiny, barely noticeable ones, scattered across their entire body. The most prominent ones are one that goes down their hips and past their pant line caused by someone trying to gut them and missing, an older one on their bicep from a botched dual, and a few fading bites and scratches on their chest and back from various creatures they've tussled with. Taash is always up to gain more though they aren't going to be reckless, scars are hot dying isn't.

Taash is very muscular and fit and works to be able to both move fast and take hits. Their muscles are visible and obvious but not heavily defined with the most worked ones being in their arms and legs. Being a qunari, and a tall one at that, means you're a bit more stretched out so things are different than a human but everything sits similarly enough you can easily tell Taash is fit from just a glance. Taash has clear abs as well

Outside of their scars Taash's skin is fairly clear and consistent. They have a mole on their face as well as two on their back.

if Taash lived a less active life they'd probably have a lot more body piercings than they do. Nipple piercings are something they are fascinated by but absolutely would never get because they are terrified they'd get caught on things. I may write some stuff with them having it though to indulge myself.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hey can you do prompt 22 for chad please? hope ur okay!🤍

‘’What are you doing?’’ ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’

I'm so happy someone picked one of my favorite lines from the list <3 Do you get the reference?

my taglists are here  + you can requests (currently closed) here at any time

—

You were sitting on Chad’s bed in your night clothes, waiting for your boyfriend to join you and watch a movie on his laptop. The end of semester rush was approaching and you wanted to spend as much time together before the beginning of the madness, hence why you were sleeping at his dorm tonight.

It was only your third time sleeping over, but your and Chad's relationship was fairly new. At least officially. You and him had been dancing around each other, flirting and sharing kisses at parties for months.

Although your feelings for each other were obvious, Chad was hesitant to take the relationship to the next level. He would constantly push you away when things would get too personal. Initially, you thought it was a commitment issue, but as you got to know him more, you came to the conclusion that maybe something had happened in his past and made him untrusty of people and reluctant to let anyone close.

Lucky for him, you were patient. And very much into him.

‘’You have practice early tomorrow morning. Are you sure this is okay?’’

Chad laughed fondly, moving around in the dorm. ‘’It’s only 8pm. We’re nowhere near my bedtime.’’

You played with the corner of his fuzzy blanket, not letting go. ‘’I just don’t want to disturb your routine by keeping you awake for longer than you should. I’d feel so bad if you were tired tomorrow because of me.’’

Shaking his head, Chad walked over to you, dropping a kiss to your lips. ‘’There’s two hours before I need to go to bed. That’s plenty of time.’’ He went over to the nightstand and plugged his phone. ‘’Besides, I’m probably gonna fall asleep during the movie,’’ he confessed, feeling the weight of his day.

Then, he fell on the twin-sized bed beside you without a care, causing the bedframe and mattress to squeak under his weight. College furnitures are not the strongest.

‘’What movie did you pick?’’ Chad reached for the laptop, the movement causing his shorts to ride up his thigh, exposing a part of his past.

‘’What’s that?’’ you asked with furrowed eyebrows, seeing a pinkish scar on the inside of his right thigh.

You weren’t particularly looking there. It just caught your eye.

The light mood shifted as Chad tensed, visibly uncomfortable at the mention of his scar. He quickly pulled the covers over his legs, hiding them from your view.

‘’I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked,’’ you apologized, genuinely feeling bad for bringing it up.

You should have known not to ask about the scar. People rarely want to talk about them as they are most of the time related to something you would like to forget.

Before the Woodsboro attacks, Chad was confident about his body. He liked to show off his toned chest and strong biceps on every given occasion. But now that seven scars decorated it, he preferred to cover it — either with a shirt or makeup he had stolen from Mindy.

He was tempted to lie and say he got it when he was little, but the truth was too big and important to be covered by a fake childhood story.

Chad drew a breath, about to reveal something that would stun you. ‘’Have you heard of the masked killer murders last year in Woodsboro?’’

You nodded, having seen some articles online about it.

‘’I…I was one of the victims. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived my injuries.’’

‘’Injuries? As in plural?’’

He nodded in turn. ‘’There's more on my stomach.''

You furrowed your eyebrows, not remembering seeing any scars there.

Chad read your expression and reached for the back of his collar to pull his shirt off.

Your eyes fell to his collarbones and pecs, then his stomach, which was indeed mauled with six pinkish scars. They were healed, but the raised texture indicated that they weren't that old. You gently brushed your finger over the lines.

‘’Do they still hurt?’’ you asked, flicking your gaze up.

Much to Chad’s relief, there was zero ounce of pity in them.

‘’No. But sometimes I have dreams about that night and I can feel the knife stabbing me…’’

The dark confession made your heart ache.

You got up and went to your backpack where all your overnight stuff was, leaving a confused Chad behind. You grabbed an eyeliner pencil from your makeup bag and returned to the bed.

‘’Lay down.’’

Chad’s frown deepened, but he did as told. ‘’What are you doing?’’

You brought the pencil to his dark skin and began doodling. ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’

—

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[oro-kapi]

after god art style study --part 2

damn only 30 images per post

part one here!!

---

line art -------

the line texture of eno's art in after god looks like an analog g-pen. it's is clean but retains a pretty textured feel and in some points, line art hatching or sketchy lines are used form the lines. particularly, larger drawings that would have thicker lines have the appearance of being hatched which gives it a very cool depth too.

if you try looking carefully, especially for the thicker dot tips left at the ends of g-pens, you can see lines aren't always drawn in one clean stroke.

I think the feathering/chicken scratch art technique can be utilized to create these fluffy-looking thick lines. though you would need a good idea how to control your lineweight while doing it to be able to maintain a smooth looking output.

custom csp tools

I do think a couple reoccurring art assets seen are custom csp brushes/tools not on the csp asset store. browsing the csp asset store brings up nothing or I haven't searched far enough. the immediate most obvious one to me is the eldritch stringy things, it looks like a looping ribbon brush. there's no way she's redrawing that shit 23892093 times, neither would I want to do that LOL. there is enough warping in each stroke for me to believe it's not a flat image being copypasted.

sometimes I like to download assets to be able to breakdown how an artist created them to make my own so aw I can't really break down how it works. but I think it's impressive the tool is super seamless, I can't really tell where the eldritchy horrors begins or ends as it's so fluid.

I'm sort of guessing tokinaga's facial/finger/leg scar is also a custom asset.

haven't found anything for orokapi's scales either so there's chance it's a custom brush too.

hair -------

hair is very detailed. you can see where the hair grows from on the head. I don't really have much to comment there.

waka's hair is usually the most detailed, given the amount of freedom pure black ink gives- you can detail as much as you want without worrying about how it interacts with the line art.

the extra thin strands is pretty consistent across all black-haired characters, like minami and yoriko. I don't think the extra thin strands are exclusive to waka just because she has long hair, since ushio and obikawa also have long hair but both have a lighter color.

hair typically overlaid over the eyes does fully obscure the eyes underneath. so if not careful, large patches of hair or certain hairstyles can entirely hide the eyes and may not be great if you need to show the eyebrows and to emphasize a character's expression.

a workaround to keep the lines for the eyes visible is to erase small bits here and there to give the illusion of strands of hair that you're able to see past at what's behind it.

for darker-haired characters- usually waka- some lighter gray is also added to her hair to show her eyes/face.

side profiles -------

the shape of the face is simple, but is much more defined than the typical cutesy moe animes with the tip of the nose to the chin usually being a flat single line. I appreciate the way the bottom lip is drawn and defined at certain angles.

I do really like the way the edge of the nose connects into the face. these side profiles give a super three-dimensional feel to the face, accentuated by the eyes

eyes -------

eno draws very pretty eyes hiiiiiiii

honestly I don't have a lot to say about the eyes. they stick on the end of semi-realism with the upper and lower eyelid being consistently drawn with circle irises. (that sounds obvious but some anime don't stick with circle irises or draw the lower eyelid)

a lot of feathering can typically be found around the eyes or makes up how the eyes are drawn. sometimes the eyelids are detailed in closer shots to really emphasize the 3d feel of the eyeball.

sometimes, the tearducts in the eyes are drawn.

these eyes typically follow a consistent 5-line shape.

simpler eyes usually use 2-lines to make the shape.

most characters are not monolid and have an eyelid crease to help show the 3 dimensionality of the eye. very rarely the outer corner of the eye is not drawn with a connected line.

[fig below shows my study of the line strokes making up the shape of the eyes]

eyebrows -------

eyebrow detailing depends on the shot- if it's upclose to the face it will usually be more detailed with some hatched lines. otherwises they're typically a couple of lines. sometimes one or two "guidelines" can be seen for the top and bottom of the brow and the inside is hatched in.

teeth -------

eno draws teeth

to be able to draw each individual tooth without it looking weird is skill. and depends on the art style, sometimes detailed teeth do not work for certain art styles (but that's not to say it's not impossible. if your goal is to make people feel uncanny with detailed ass teeth on a cute anime character, sure lol)

orokapi/obikawa's teeth do have prominent canines (snake) (lol) but other characters also have their molars slightly lined in. often, the teeth are not fully lined, where the main line art only shows defining the gums and the ends of each tooth.

coloring -------

after a while I did notice after god consistently uses gray to color tones. it isn't exclusively black and white with toning.

an 80 value or #CECECE is a good color to take from the study to use for manga shading.

I'm sort of guessing this may make the books cost more to print because gray ink is adds another expense.

application -------

and finally applying some of these details to my own art ✨

thanks for reading! hope this gave some cool insights into the art of after god :]

[sociopathichero]

FIRST MEETINGS MEME A meme for first meetings and introduction threads, aka a ‘What you will notice about my muse first’ cheat sheet. Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Fill in details.

tagged by: Saw it somewhere and stole it. tagging: Anyone who wants to do it! <3

blank meme: x

GENERAL

Gender: Masculine. Feminine. Androgynous.

Race: White (Russian)

Complexion: Fair and pretty pale.

Height: 183 cm/6'0’’

Body Type: Endomorph. Mesomorph. Ectomorph. Other / More Details: —

Body Build: Small. Medium. Athletic. Muscular. Soft. Curvy. Voluptuous. Other / More Details: He is very average: not under- or overweight, not lanky or stout. His muscles aren't particularly defined/visible but they're definitely there.

Body Hair: None. Shaves/Waxes. Trims/Grooms. Untamed. Color: Dark. Notes: He's always clean-shaven, otherwise things are untamed. He isn't very hairy, though. Apart from the obvious (legs, arms, underarms, and crotch area) he only has a little patch of hair on his chest and a neat lil' snail trail.

Head Hair: None. Buzzed. Short. Medium. Long. Very Long. Asymmetrical Cut. Color: Dark brown Style: Short and same length throughout (so no buzzed sides etc.)

Eye color: Light blue Details: —

Scars: A fingertip-sized scarred cut on his left cheek from a fistfight, a thin, vertical scar going over the middle of his right eyebrow from a different fistfight, two small, adjacent circular scars on his right side just below his ribs from getting shot, and a jagged scar on his right sole from slicing his foot on a sharp rock when out fishing with his brother as a kid.

FASHION

Fashion Style: Vintage. Traditional. Casual. Artsy. Vibrant. Geeky/Nerdy. Tomboy. Sporty. Trendy. Preppy. Girly. Bohemian. Elegant. Formal. Grunge. Punk. Rocker. Gothic. Other: His style (if you can call it a style) is pretty neutral and more on the practical side.

Color Palette: Neutral colors like blacks, whites, beiges, grays, and navy blues.

Typical Clothing: Jeans, always jeans. Depending on if he's going for comfort or for a bit neater look, he either wears his beloved oversized sweater or more regular-looking sweatshirts and sweaters. There's a 95% chance he's wearing a T-shirt underneath and a 90% chance it's a black one. Coat is either a windbreaker or a neat, black wool overcoat. He also often wears combat boots.

Tattoos: None

Other Information: —

EXPRESSION

General Facial Expression: He has a very neutral general expression. He doesn't try to rein in his expressions though, so you can clearly tell when he's angry or happy. He smiles pretty easily, actually.

Default Body Language: He has a relaxed posture and often has his hands in his (coat) pockets. Other than that, his gestures are quite minimal.

General Movements: Unhurried and deliberate.

NOTABLE FOR RP

Presence: Very calm and unpretentious. His presence doesn't really draw attention (at least not until he has a gun in his hand). 

Appearance: Tidy, if not the most fashionable.

Scent: Cigarettes, plus some random shampoo and some random deodorant (he doesn't have any favorite brands).

Voice Description: His voice is fairly deep (example). At times it drops a bit lower, like when he's going for a more authoritative tone.

Accent: yes / no More information: Very thick Russian accent.

Speech Mannerisms: He only rarely curses. His speech is calm and measured, and he doesn't rush his words. He uses simple language when speaking in English, it being his second language and all.

Anything else to add? —

[thatoneneuvichiliauthor]

is there a defined way as to how aventurine looks in the noodle au?? I'm personally struggling to come up with an image in my mind

Okay, it's noodle Aventurine description time!

Let's start with the obvious: Instead of legs, he has a snake tail with green scales. It merges with the human part of his body right above where his hips would be.

However, the more 'human' part of his body also bears some snake traits, starting with scales. Aventurine have some of those on his arms, hands, face and torso, but they are scarce and few, kinda like moles or freckles.

Instead of nails, he has short claws. His tongue is forked, and he has venomous fangs. As for his eyes, they look the same as in canon, except he has vertically slitted pupils.

Most of his body is covered in scars, old and new, due to the mistreatments he suffered for years, though those on the snake half are less visible/ fade a little more each time he sheds.

He also has three small spots on his chest, right above his heart, that turn a light shade of grey when put under the right light, but even then, you'd have to know it's there and squint to notice it. The reason why is spoiler territory, but I thought it'd be nice to include this little detail here as well, since it's also part of noodle Aven's appearance!

Anyway I hope this helps anon, and don't hesitate to ask is there's anything you'd like to have more precision on!

[chrislaplante]

appearance meme repost, don’t reblog. bold what applies. fill in details.  (do not remove the credit + blank meme link)

general

sex: amab. gen id: masc w/ feminine affinities & gnc traits. race: white / caucasian (french-canadian & argentinian). face: "baby face" androgenous (soft) features. round "doe" eyes. heart-shaped lips w/ a slight heavier bottom. "button" nose (straight, parted at the base, slightly lifted at the tip). "diamond" bone structure (high cheekbones). flat eyebrow shape, outwardly sparse, light brown. "soft" parted chin (obvious only up close). complexion: light fawn with cool, pinkish undertones. sometimes sickly pale (due to heavy blood loss). freckled, though they are only obvious if in close proximity. "imperfect", with the occasional spray of blemishes, although dry. sometimes with blotchiness or redness due to irritation. easily burned by the sun. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. body type: ectomorph. body build: tall (6'4 / 1.93m). thin, if not lanky. somewhat underweight but still on the healthy side. there's slight muscular definition as a result of touring & exertion during his stage antics. long legs & arms. big hands & feet. broad shoulders. bad posture, often slouching, trying to make himself seem smaller (shorter) & go unnoticed. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG.

details

facial hair: he doesn't think he can grow "proper" facial hair. it is light in color & does not grow quickly, it would take him at least a month to grow a full beard if he so wanted to. he prefers to shave, instead. though you can occasionally see some mild growth peeking. it is quite fair & thin, blond if in the light of day. color: a very light shade of brown, borderline blond.

head hair: long, reaching to his lower back. naturally wavy. nowadays seemingly straight until it reaches its ends, where it curls when washed/clean. IMG. IMG. IMG. formally, to his shoulders with visible curls. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. color: bleached blond. naturally & formally a light shade of brown. IMG. IMG. IMG. style: perhaps it unintentionally appears in the quintessential "metalhead" fashion. details: roots will show after some time. his girlfriend helps maintain it.

eye color: aegean sea blue, which is essentially blue-green eyes. they are of a turbulent blue, sometimes bright, depending of the light, with traces of green around & close to the pupil. IMG. IMG. (my terrible edits:) IMG. IMG. IMG. details: legend has it, they seem darker onstage (demons, y'know).

scars: all over his arms. most of them healed and fading. fresher/newer ones are in different stages of healing and in different shades of pink and red. piercings: two piercings on his left earlobe. tattoos: none yet. but he's been thinking of getting the lines "and the shadows smile, dark and wild" from the crow comic book by james o'barr.

behavior

general: quiet. reserved. separates himself from others. rarely starts a conversation. either nervous or oblivious. soft-spoken (baritone) and gentle with his words. says little, if not prompted. he might come off as aloof, though he is not (he's just shy). facial expressions: often looks lost, or clueless. a deer in the headlights. wide-eyed. at first. after the connection is made, he cannot hide anything. his face can be read like a book. he's a terrible liar (and hates lying). due to his unexpectant nature and disarming demeanor (in high contrast with the way he looks and what one expects from someone with his build), animated expressions tend to be memorable. his nose scrunching, a wince of his eyes, an embarrassed smile. awkward but charming. other: he shares little and compartmentalizes a lot. so when he's been dealing with "something", he bottles it up until he explodes. this gives him a tendency to snap at people. gaining a sharp tongue and cruel words. not thinking of the consequences.

body language: self-contained. tries to make himself small. retrieves and slouches. other: due to his height, he assumes he looks silly or awkward no matter what, so his movements are passive. (onstage) he can be driven, confident and aggressive.

attire

fashion style: kinda "grungy", kinda "metalhead", with some goth touches (band tees). onstage, what i like to call "metalhead fantasy" which is more costume-y. color palette: faded colors, earth-y colors. faded, messy grays. faded denims; blue, black, gray. faded browns, dark greens and dark, faded blues. lots of plaid. onstage: black. just black with some worn out denims and a few striking touches of red. typical clothing: comfort is key. straight-legged jeans & pants, occasionally fitted. often with rips and/or stains (mostly charcoal). t-shirts usually a size or two too large on him (he is tall but he's thin). often wears plaid or thin denim button-ups with long sleeves as "jackets", or to simply cover his arms (scars). those are about two to three sizes too big on him. he'll wear these long-sleeve button-ups when it's chilly out. he does have a black denim jacket, also on the thin side (big on him), and a thrifted trench coat, which is also big on him (its sleeves are often folded up so he can use his hands). in cold weather he will begin to wear long-sleeve band shirts, buy refuse to layer up. however, in extreme cold weather, he'll surrender and give into wearing sweaters. these are majorly the quintessential "80s dad" sweaters, baggy "early 90s" grungy ones, or thick cable knit cardigans ("grandpa" sweaters). he likes to wear tube socks (long crew), often in plain white, but he loves "fun" socks: colorful, busy with patterns of fruits, animated characters, cats, space themes, etc. he prefers briefs over boxers, but he's okay with boxers as he can wear them as shorts. his pajamas consist of thin, plaid pajama bottoms (in blue) and a soft, cotton shirt. or boxers and a soft, cotton shirt. note: he tends to become attached to his clothes so he will wear them until they fall apart (with the sole exception of his underwear, with which he has zero attachment). onstage: clad in black. ripped black jeans. a band t-shirt (in black), a denim verst covered in patches and studded, red overlaps. a thrifted black trench coat which he shredded the sleeves and back of, its arms now in thick, choppy fringes, and its back cut into a modeled tail-like cape which hangs from his arms at the height of his shoulders. it is covered in intentional rips, reaching his thighs. footwear: worn out sneakers. high-tops in white or black-n-white. he'll often be found in socks. (onstage) steel-toed, lace-up, black combat boots.

more

jewelry: he has two piercings on his left ear, he wears simple silver hoops. IMG. IMG. then there is a thin leather strap he wears as a bracelet. IMG. beyond this, if he'd ever wear anything else, it would be a gift from his girlfriend ( @bornhngry ). makeup: inspired by one of his favorite films, the crow, chris chose to start wearing stage makeup / face-paint to sort of get into the mindset of a stage persona & to hide his face. black & white makeup, trying his best to not look polished.  extra details: he uses what we call "grease paint". it's the only type he knows & can use easily, introduced to him via an old art school acquaintance who studied theater. though expensive, it lasts a long time: ben nye clown white & black foundation. amongst his belongings, you'll find a large 16oz tub of "clown white" & various pods of black foundation. IMG. IMG. IMG. IMG. he should use setting power, maybe even sealing spray, as per the instructions by said acquaintance. chris, however, prefers the ease of removing the residual face-paint (which isn't much) after a show. IMG. other: he likes to paint his nails, while they don't last (they are perpetually chipped). usually dark colors, most often black. usually with the help of his girlfriend. IMG.

[fountainpenguin]

📂

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

Warning for minor body horror (Mentions of players removing skins, which are like onesies in this 'fic universe + injury / dragon bites)

In my Pixels Imperfect universe, frustration that you're still holding onto manifests as a glowing scar. Specifically, a scar all the way down to your soul level, meaning it glows through any new skin you put on. This is called a soul wound.

Martyn's the poster child for soul wounds being visible, since this is his in-universe parallel of IRL Martyn's Eyes and Ears lore.

In this image I drew for Dog's Life Chapter 26, "Ignite," you can see Martyn's cheek and collarbone scars (paralleling 3rd Life and Double Life respectively).

In a lore video, Martyn and his audience agreed that Martyn has his Last Life mark on the back of his right shoulder to represent being backstabbed (iirc), and we know from his Limited Life finale that he was cured of his right hand mark. His Secret Life mark hasn't happened at this point in the timeline, and also I don't think I know where it is.

In Eyes and Ears canon, I believe his scars glow purple to reflect the Watchers. In Pixels Imperfect, they glow white.

Cleo also has a wound, which is a massive dragon bite in her side. My pencil drawings don't make it obvious, but it's why her shirt hooks up like this and/or why she often takes off her shirt- the bite wound chafes sometimes and it just feels better to take it off.

Cleo's wound isn't as exciting as it sounds: They were helping to build New Star Station in its starter base days, but strayed too close to the Slime Dragon's guppies and got bit. They're fine, but lost a chunk of vessel data. You can put your hand in it and there will be resistance, but if you push through it, it's empty.

Their body is kind of like a milk gallon in the sense that it's shaped different than a glass of milk. It still holds everything it needs to (i.e. their vessel holds their soul without leaking), but their soul now follows the shape of the "gallon," which has a gap in it (like a milk gallon does for a handle).

What this also means is that Cleo can pull their shirt down over the wound and the shirt will still respond to their body's shape, because the shirt still registers it as body even though it's white energy.

Scar's chronic glitch works the same way- He can still use his arm, leg, or any other body part that glows blue, but it strains him and causes soreness or pain until the glitch moves to a different part of his body. The limb is there and can function... but it hurts, is weaker than usual, and sometimes it's so hard to get it to function that the limb is effectively non-functional.

Cleo's wound doesn't shift like his glitch, but it's the same principle: it's a phantom zone that her body treats as if it's sort of there, but she's also not going to lie on that side long-term because it would get sore. It's like an open wound, so lying on the dirt risks dirt particles pushing through their wound and ending up inside their body. Most people would prefer that doesn't happen, but Cleo's okay because they're a zombie and have a thing for being buried alive.

BigB also got bitten by a dragon. However, he took damage in a sensitive area that makes it difficult to breathe. This is the reason why he modded from an illusioner into a moth hybrid, which breathes through spiracles down his sides instead of down the throat.

Impulse's scar was a brief point of tension in my one-shot "Like Newlyweds Do," when being soulmates gave Bdubs Impulse's soul wound:

And even in the twilight, with lanterns dim, he can see the little mark he's searching for in the proper place on his husband's arm, too. Bdubs stands before the mirror, craning his neck to see his reflected back. His fingers trace along his skin. Impulse watches from the bed, face half-buried in his folded arms. If his tail were out, it would be ticking back and forth, counting out the seconds before Bdubs asks him why he never fixed that scar behind his right shoulder. "I like it," Bdubs says, prodding the old gash with one finger. It's white, glowing faintly. "I've got a clock from you and you've got this from me." In that moment, Impulse wishes he could kill on green.

Pixels Bdubs is a very interesting character to me. He's loud, proud, and not easily shut down. He also denies his own issues all the time.

During Dog's Life, Bdubs gains a lip scar after he and Impulse have a huge fight about the Day 1 Crew alliance betrayal. Impulse cuts his lip with his sword; it's later revealed that Bdubs is confused as to why this scar is sticking, when he "doesn't think that fight was a big deal."

Here's Chapter 12 Bdubs (no lip scar) + Chapter 30 Bdubs:

It's subtle, but it's there.

Etho's eye scar is part of his skin design- It's not a soul wound. Etho has no backstory for his scar because it's just always been there on the skins he wears. It's blue and doesn't glow (Injuries lead to energy leakage, and the energy is white or blue in this universe depending on depth).

Here's the image that goes with "Canadian Idiot"-

And Joel's mark there was just "recent damage" because this was a Double Life 'fic about Etho's fox instincts and aggro kicking in through the soulbond when Joel takes damage, so Etho was lashing out at Joel and/or himself every time he got hurt.

I can't believe I wrote a huge 'fic centered around Etho repeatedly biting Joel's neck 2 months before we got the "neck kisses" gag. I'm so sorry, Joel... I was just writing about fox aggro and a fox's instinct involving teeth instead of a weapon, I swear... it wasn't supposed to have a double meaning...

In a one-shot titled "The Man He Sets His Spawn With," most of the cast stripped off their skins in the server hub's locker room / shower house and had Grian blast them with a power washer to rinse the Secret Life mod off. Bdubs was our POV character and we learned some interesting things:

He pushes forward. Souls blur together, blue and overlapping, and the glowing doesn't help with the identity stuff like at all. He can pick out Tango (facing away from him) by the enormous white gash scarred down his right shoulder. Not pointing fingers, but that one's a Bdubs original. You're welcome for helping you look so cool, you're turning heads. Martyn's got smaller scars - little diamonds - that glow in fragments here and there across his soul. There's an arrow wound in his belly, though that one's hard to see when he's wearing skins… or, y'know. Clothes. Can't take credit for that one, though, because that's all Scar from a particularly brutal perma-death back in 3rd Life that still leaves Martyn jumpy today (so Bdubs has self-observed). And Impulse has an arrow mark just like that behind his shoulder… but then, Impulse has scars and patched-up bits of code everywhere. That's nothing new. What's one more?

- Tango's got a soul wound from Bdubs betraying him in Last Life. He's totally buddy-buddy with Bdubs and they're friends, it's fine, but Tango hasn't quite let it go.

- Martyn has an arrow wound in his belly. This is a nod to Double Life. Shortly before Cleo drowned, taking their yellow life, Martyn saw Scar coming towards him, screamed, and took off as fast as he could, yelling "No, no, no!" and that he's "Not dying to you [Scar] again."

Interestingly enough, the only time Scar ever killed Martyn up to that point was when he perma-killed him in 3rd Life; Martyn's reaction seems to imply Character Martyn has trauma around that.

Bdubs doesn't seem to care that he's responsible for giving several of his friends soul wounds, which makes it funnier that he gets super annoyed in Dog's Life when he gets the lip scar.

Bdubs is the kind of person who'd see the scar and then spin around or walk backwards while slapping at his lip over and over, trying to wipe it off. He refuses to admit he has issues with it.

Bdubs actually has another scar, but it's somewhere on his back (and under his clothes) where he can't easily see it. The Phantom Dragon's whole thing is that she spreads her babies to all the server hubs by dropping them off and leaving, but little Bdubs refused to go, so he just clung to her the whole time until she finally did ditch him in Underdark Crossing, where he met Cleo.

If you ask him about it, he'll spin a story about how it was all his idea to go solo and that's what makes him a good captain. He has huge issues with it, though, because his mom totally dumped him and he's not over it.

Martyn's also a phantom, but he never went through that because he was adopted by hybrids as an egg. Bdubs gets very jealous when his friends talk about having a good relationship with their moms. Secretly, he likes how Etho's mom also picked him up by the scruff and dumped him in New Star. It's something they have in common, though Bdubs will never admit it.

Bdubs probably has a lot of deep-seeded resentment towards Martyn being adopted, because supposedly he's "told Martyn horror stories about the phantom nesting hub" and may or may not have played a role in poisoning Martyn's relationship with the Phantom Dragon.

Also, at the end of Dog's Life Chapter 32 ("Starve"), we learned that SnifferMyFeet has a huge X-shaped scar on his back from each shoulder to hip, crossing both his Grian and Joel halves. Still working through the good ol' body possession trauma.

Tango specializes in aesthetic mods and one of the things he does is help people make their scars more subtle. You can't scrap them forever - you have to let go of your frustration to do that - but you can lower their intensity.

As an allay hybrid / fey, Scott can gather your memories of what happened to cause a soul wound, but you'll never be able to work through the issues, so you'll be left with a scar and won't remember why it's there or how to get rid of it.

Hmm... Who do I know who has a backstory they want to forget and got confused when Scott referenced something from their past that they didn't have an answer for...?

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

Oc content ya'll, finally something new, something different. I genuinely think I'm gonna write Kanami's story because I have that all planned out and I know and I see it in my head all the time, if yall want to read it let me know but this is the most creative I've felt in a while so... here's some of that. It's my OC Kanami X Kyojuro

“So where did you get all of this?” Kyojuro was unsteady on his feet, hand resting on the bandaging covering his stomach. His eyes trailed over all the trinkets lining the walls, small objects, a block painted in different colors, A few hair pins, a small pouch that looked full, and other unknown things. “People, friends, Ren” Kanami continued stirring the pot over the fire, the warm smell of the broth, hearty, fulfilling. Kyojuro could recognize his favorite Miso anywhere, and it had been years since he smelt it, just like it had been years since he had seen her, his love. Time had been kind to her, but it hadn’t at the same time. The crystal hue of her false limbs, her hair remained the same, maybe longer, and the white strands that framed her face had grown past her jawline. But her face, even with the added scars and the white eye, she looked the same. “You’ve really been here this whole time?” Kyojuro moved closer, cautious to get to her, as if she would fade if he got too close. “For the most part, took me a long time to build this place, so I lived with Takashi for a year and a half I think, in his home, in his space.” She set down her spoon, turning to face the man she had fought for, she had healed for, the one she had done everything to get back to. “And he’s the one that tr-“ “Trained me, yeah. When an enchanter merges back with their soul you can feel the fluctuation of power, I’ve felt it many times before. Often times though it’s met with an instant dissipation of that power, the complete ending of life. Demons always finish the job, never giving you time to recover. I got lucky, the sun was on my side” She gave him a wry smile, unsure how to proceed, unsure if she was even ready to unpack everything that had happened in the four years since she had seen Kyojuro. He had grown, he stood straighter, and it was obvious he had worked hard, the scars that lined the well-trained muscles of his body were evidence of it. He had an aura of greatness that she always knew he would get to; he could do anything he wanted. There was a silence between them, it was the first time he had gotten out of bed, the first time they had had a proper conversation. She promised Shinobu that she would hide him and help him heal, maybe he would be a slayer again, but that was all. She made the promise in front of all the hashira, new and old, but it was a promise to the corps, not a promise to the man she loved. “You look…” He paused, eyes running over the crystal that took the form of her left side, the shape of her moving arm and leg but a haunting blue that glowed in the sunlight. The dress she wore was short, stopping halfway down her thighs, and did nothing to hide the ways her body had matured, the shape of her, the size of her. “Different, undead, a monster. Yeah, I’ve been told” A sarcastic laugh spilled from her lips, the scars that he remembered still stretching with her smile, three lines like someone tried to pull the side of her face, so much like Sanemi yet so much more like her. “Beautiful, that’s what I was going to say” He was leaning on the small table, the sharp corner digging into his thighs that he paid no mind to, only focused on the way she seemed to be visibly processing his words, eyebrows furrowing and lips puckering in disbelief. “You’ve changed, of course, we all have. Kanami, you are still you. The same woman I’ve always known” She had folded in on herself, arms crossing over her chest as her fingers dug into her arms, holding herself. “Kyojuro” She let out a shaky breath, unsure, scared for the first time since the night she died for the first time.

[amplexadversary]

Fuck it, it's G Gundam day, I'm going to post some of my G Gundam inspired Fashion Warframes.

I took a mixture of inspiration from the gundam and the pilot for most of these guys (most notable with my very Allenby-colored Ember).

Additional comments under the cut:

-Nezah as God Gundam was chosen for the Halo, and also for the ribbons being reminiscent of Domon's Hachimaki.

I keep his sparring melee weapon (kogake prime) visible as an analogue to the bracers on the gundam. He wears the heart-shaped Community of Tenno sigil on his chest to represent his crest.

He's usually accompanied by the Kubrow seen in the background of the first photo in the set (shown with my Master Gundam Titania); the Kubrow is named Domon primarily based on his intelligence, but he does help to really sell the reference since other players can see the name of your pet.

-I picked Titania Prime as Master Gundam because of the shape of her head, and gave her Nezah's noble animation set to mimic Master's one-foot martial arts pose. Despite this I can't seem to get a picture of her that I'm satisfied with.

-Atlus Prime as Gundam Maxter, because, well, duh, boxer.

He wears the Saturn Six armor set colored to look like his removable shoulder armor and chestplate, and I used a tan colored Kela De Thaym sigil peeking out from under it to represent Maxter's "bare chest" mode.

I gave him the Akbolto Prime as his sidearm because they're my favorite of the twin pistol weapons and they look stupidly cool.

-Chroma Prime as Dragon Gundam is admittedly a questionable choice, given that he's both taller and has a better ass than God Gundam, but come on, he's the Dragon Warframe.

He wields staff weapons as both his melee and his primary to mimic his fighting style

I gave him the Suda Syandana (fancy warframe term for cape) because when it's lit up it resembles his ponytail. As a result I usually stick a Helios Sentinel in his companion slot because it automatically scans things, which is the criteria to light the thing up.

I placed an inverted Hyena Sigil on his chest behind the lotus armor because from certain angles it looks like a Club, as in the suit of cards, and thus represents his shuffle crest.

-There are so many elements of Schwarz Bruder's trace suit that simply cannot be imitated in Warframe (hes very asymmetrical), but when I got Ash Prime for the first time and saw that tassel, I knew who he needed to be themed after.

So he's Red Gold and Black, with electrified Kronen Prime tonfas to look like his gundam's arm blades, and the Spira throwing knives as a sidearm.

He has the Second Dream Scar sigil and the hexagonal-patterned Cephalon Suda's sigil on his left side to resemble the injury he sustains late in the show, as well as his DG cell infection.

These are oooooooooold pictures of him, and I have since updated his look with both the regular and prisma Edo leg guards to create the asymmetrical look on his shins. Unfortunately, I haven't found anything that looks good on his massive shoulders.

-Another questionable choice, Ember as Allenby/Nobel Gundam. I know Valkyr is the obvious choice here. But I don't have Valkyr and I felt it's a little bit too on-the-nose, hence my choice.

The Xoris throwing weapon was very easy to color as the Nobel Hula Hoop, so naturally I had to include it.

-Finally, Nidus as the Devil Gundam. Another super-obvious choice, the infectious biomechanical monstrosity as the infectious biomechanical monstrosity (well, moreso than other... entities in Warframe *cough*spoilers).

He of course has the hexagonal Cephalon Suda sigil because it looks like the DG cells from the anime, and the Devil Gundam is the source of those cells.

This guy was a pain in the ass to color because his sections don't line up completely with what I want to do with him. He has the Saturn Six Breastplate made to look like his cockpit door, and the Frakta shoulder armor because it looked the most like his big bulky second set of arms.

He goes into missions accompanied by my Helminth Charger, named Kyoji, because I am a complete monster.

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish - Nine Tails

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>24<

Shinogi and Ayame? Judging by their last confrontation, he expected to meet his sister-in-law at the funeral of the red-haired doctor at most, and here it was such a surprise. He didn't have time to worry about it for long, however, because in the meantime Tokugawa announced the women's tournament they had been planning with Hanabi's Grandpa for a long time. The wife agreed to participate, but only to somehow ultimately dissuade Shigeru from returning to Okinawa and become a teacher. The old man, as they both imagined, had different expectations of the whole enterprise. All the more so, the woman has made proper preparation her priority. Again, she ate more, but also made butter eyes to her husband more often, so that he would help in training. He could not refuse it, especially since the further improvement in condition and strength would make them get rid of the last contraindication to their long-concluded marriage. He perfectly remembered the information she had given her to the room one evening at her grandfather's house - he had planned to divorce them, and Hanayama absolutely did not want to let that happen. It is true that from time to time, as part of getting used to different conditions and opponents, she allowed someone else to enter the mat, but Kaoru was still the highest suspended bar ... which she jumped pretty well. He quietly admitted that training with his wife had a positive effect on him, and he had a great time spending time with her. He was very curious about the challenges awaiting her in the arena, he wanted her to be as ready as possible.

Finally, they entered the arena, as usual full of spectators. The changing rooms and players' rooms were also not empty. Probably for the first time in his life he saw so many women in one place, and at the same time so many STRONG CONSTRUCTION women. Hanabi looked like a lame puff to some people, even though she still impressed with her muscles. One of them looked almost like a Hanayama, with the difference that the elongated belly replaced the perfect indentation to form the most perfect hourglass figure form he could see in this edition. Her thighs looked carved out of a large piece of marble, as were the rest of the muscles, but the prominent breasts, however, were apparently fake, probably to keep her body balanced. Next to her stood another, not much smaller, with a long braid. Hana watched calmly as she passed the players. She was twirling her upturned nose saying that the appearance meant nothing. She managed to find her sisters. They were waiting for her in the middle of the whole gathering, along with the proud Shigeru, with her hands tucked in the wide haori sleeves. Baki was also hanging around nearby, apparently intrigued by the fights, and Kozue, quite uncertainly looking around at the surroundings. There were all three, though only two in sportswear. Ayame did not enter the competition for obvious reasons. The slightly rounding tummy became more and more visible. She was assisted by a Shinogi whom she seemed to have graciously decided not to kill yet. There was even Chiharu with Shizuka, and a wreath of girls around him, including a feisty ginger toddler, winking coquettishly at his favorite scarred uncle. The mechanic chose elastic pants with legs widening from the knee, tied with strings on the sides of the hips and a tightly fitting, slightly sparkling T-shirt. She was tying her hair in a high ponytail as the Hanayama family approached. Yui, wearing a voluminous sweatshirt with a hood over her head, walked over to her sister, shedding the covers and revealing ... a very masculine hairstyle that he apparently hadn't noticed lately.

- See you in the final, my Yin. - she muttered, shaking her hand.

- See you, my Yang. - echoed the green-eyed, squeezing the served fingers.

He could even feel the aura emanating from those two. All they had to do was shake hands and he felt a strong gust of warmth, or so he thought. Moments later, they took off their sweatshirts, Hana also slipped off long, elegant pants, revealing sporty, quite loose shorts hidden under them. In this respect, she did not change a bit - the fact, if the situation was urgent, she did not run to change, but having time to prepare, to fight or train, she always stood in sports clothes, which this time were maroon, slippery shorts and tight round breasts top. And beloved sneakers on her feet. Under her outer clothes, she hid a great reason to be proud, and a little of his - a body so solidly refined that there was nothing else to do but a whistle of appreciation, which he had not culturally done. A flat belly with round, delicate cubes, oblique muscles forming a harmonica, leg muscles that he probably had never seen on her before, and the sight of a perfectly feminine quadrilateral on her back, decorated with a colorful masterpiece from the hands of Horitatsu, made him hot. Yui had the shape of a typical soldier - strong, solid, he suspected that she might rub cheese on her stomach. Triceps on strong arms were knocking out from under the skin, while she made single turns of the shoulder joints. Were it not for a woman's breasts and a special build from the waist down, he might have mistaken her for a heavily packed, but small man.

- Amazing ... - Kozue sighed, leaning on her boyfriend. - How it's possible? After all ... after all ...

- Both have excellent conditions for building muscles, absorb every gram of protein while making the most of the energy from glucose, ketone bodies and fatty acids. - Kureha explained. - These two are walking mesomorphic power plants, their bodies can't put energy off until later. Not much, anyway.

- And they always ate for three, especially meat! - Shizuka laughed. - When my grandfather insisted that vegetarianism was just my prank, I gave them my portions under the table. And so they took refills.

The crowd in the stands clearly called for entertainment. He was waiting for her in the corridor. He saw the surprise of the audience when, instead of the crowd of broad-shouldered men, including famous and popular men, someone else appeared. The Kitsune sisters were by far the smallest of all. The rest either knocked out huge muscles or height, even both. He had seen few people like them, and the two tallest ones they passed when they entered Tokyo Dome, he didn't even have to look for. They differed in size and outfit - instead of typical sports clothes, they chose something that looked more like swimming costumes, very cut out.

- We are all used to the smell of testosterone from this battlefield, strewn with the blood and bones of the fallen, and as our venerable host says: nothing is worse than stagnation! - the announcer said loudly. - Today, instead of powerful men, you have probably the only such opportunity in the history of the Underground Arena to check whether the strength is really a woman!

To his surprise, the crowds roared happily, and Tokugawa, along with Shigeru's grandfather, sat in their box, eagerly awaiting the fighting. Old Soga was clearly looking at only one of them. Hanayama bristled at the mere thought. He did not have time to share it with his wife, because she was called out first.

>>><<<

It's been a long time since she felt so excited! She had the opportunity to participate in mini-tournaments at her grandfather's many times, or even more amateurs at Wu Song's, but it was different here. I guess she was beginning to understand what her husband liked about it, and the fights hadn't even started. She was called, making her shudder in surprise. She hadn't expected to be the first. However, she guessed that it had not come to this by lot. Probably her grandfather, watching her closely, wanted to find out as soon as possible what she had learned during the time she was away from the family dojo. She looked at one of the screens she passed in the corridor, where the first line of combat appeared.

- "Tsunode, Mai"? - She read quietly.

- Know from somewhere? - the husband asked.

- And in life, I don't know a man. - she replied, waving her hand.

She hadn't expected that as she approached the gate in the Byakko* corner (ha! Good joke!), She would see a face she hoped not to see again. On the opposite side, already in the Arena, stood a tall, slender blonde with a black eye patch. She tied her long hair into a ponytail, and as soon as she noticed the speechless, black-haired woman, she smiled coquettishly, waving gently and sending a kiss. Mrs. Hanayama clenched her teeth in anger as she nervously grabbed her husband's sleeve.

- Tell me, honey, how many times can you fuck ONE bitch ?! - she drawled.

- But you know her? - Kaoru was surprised.

- It's that bleached rag who was going to kill me at the wedding! - she huffed impatiently, taking off her shoes. - Well, change of plans. I'll handle it differently.

She tugged her shorts a little, shooting a wide rubber band at the steel belly, then extended her hand toward him.

- What ... oh no no ... no. - he muttered reluctantly, waving his index finger in front of her nose.

- YES! The end justifies the means, My Bear. - she replied, clearly impatient. - I know perfectly well you have at least one bottle.

He sighed heavily as he pulled a thirteen-year-old bourbon from his inside pocket. She twisted the cap and it clicked unhappily under tightly clenched, slim fingers. She gobbled up over half a liter in a gulp. She swayed slightly, handing the rest to Hanayama.

- Hana, what have you come up with? - Ayame huffed, growing behind their backs. - Are you gonna fight drunk?

- Got me! - Threw dispassionately younger, hiccuping softly.

She shook her head, then started briskly forward, in a light slalom. She was going to get it as fast as possible without losing consciousness, and the only way she could think of was ... alcohol. She still remembered Wu Song's** movements, was able to repeat them, and although he had never really taught her drunk boxing, she was going to use it. She remembered his arguments, especially about He Xiangu, the only female deity in the Zui Quan pantheon. The epitome of femininity, combining the styles of other masters. The blonde standing in front of the corner gate, Seryuu***, was clearly glad to see the black-haired girl. Just the opposite of Hanabi. They stood facing each other, Hana bristled hearing the soft voice.

- I'm so glad to see you again, Shiro Kitsune-san! - the opponent laughed. - Another opportunity to taste your wonderful blood!

- Fuck off. - Mrs. Hanayama huffed shortly, trying not to hiccup.

- Apart from the use of weapons, all holds are allowed. - said the judge, then sent them to their positions.

She clearly felt her head buzzing. It is not a very pleasant feeling, especially if you have not had large amounts of strong alcohol in your blood for several months. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the body swirl. She turned abruptly, lowering her body to the ground as she heard accelerated footsteps sinking into the sand. She straightened to a standing position just as quickly, shifting her head between Maja's legs and carrying her on her shoulders, and after a while, feeling her hands touch the ground, throw her away from herself, jump off the ground and apply a wrestling throw, crushing her opponent. She heard the dull thud of bones and the strangled scream of the blonde. Okay. Hana unwrapped herself like a gel on the window on a warm day, adopting a posture similar to that of Muay Thai. The blonde got up hastily, slashing with a barrage of blows, which Mrs. Hanayama easily avoided, twisting like a blade of grass. With grace and finesse that she had never suspected in her life, she kicked back a few somersaults to gain some distance. Mai was barely out of breath, but she didn't look disheartened, piercing her maddened gaze.

- Reliable as always, Shiro Kitsune-san! - she growled maliciously, spitting blood. - How I love you!

____________________________________

*Byakko - one of the Guardians of Heaven, Bai Hu, the White Tiger, guardian of the west, fall, law and souls of the dead, ruling the winds; Byakko is also a term for the white Kitsune, the omen of death / happiness; Shigeru's grandfather attributed Hanabi to the element of air as well;

**Wu Song - according to Tales from the Riverbanks, Wu Song is portrayed as a Song Dynasty rebel, a drunk boxing champion; for Hanabi he is a master from the school she inherited by inheritance law, based on a will;

***Seryuu - Blue Dragon, one of the Four Guardians of Heaven, deity of the east, spring, giver of fertility;

[kidflashimpulse]

Literally your HC's are what's keeping me alive these days, somehow you always manage to put into words what has been floating around in my brain aimlessly and it just gets better every time 🤌

No but fr I've always thought that Bart had been experimented on for some time (a few months? Years?) before escaping/getting a collar slapped on his neck and being sent to the camps and I'm super interested to hear your and other's takes on it, there's just so many possibilities!

I'm not as good as you are in putting thoughts into words but gosh Bart needs a nap and so many cuddles, that we can all agree on

(Thankfully Ed will provide)

i appreciate this a lot because honestly most of the time it feels like I just word vomit lol so the fact that there’s something coherent to them, is a relief

the possibilities really ARE endless it’s insane !! both frustrating but also great because we can go ham with them lol

i feel like the overall consensus really is that he was experimented on one way or another, which is cool!! i think the when, how, in what way and to what extent is what probably varies the most and i eat up every single theory out there !! always super interesting to read. like u mentioned, i would be super interested to hear others takes on it !

my take which i wouldn’t consider spoilerish because it’s not like it’s specifically central to the plot (more like in a round about way) is definitely in line with the whole “experimented on his speed/legs” aspect. I love me a good “he has loads of scars on them” fics, always enjoyable. Personally, I don’t think he has any visible scars on his body and if he did, it would be like very few but very much major types. Like really big or something that even with a healing factor would scar, like long flesh wounds across his legs or something. Personally in AAIT (and my YJ HCs) he doesn’t have any noticeably obvious scars at all, and that plays into some stuff in the next chapter.

this is kind of unecessary to add but i will anyway lmfao, whenever i think about him being experimented on in some way there’s loads of blood. I think the electric-shock stuff we see in YJ is a given too, but i feel like they might have toned things down for censorship. But personally I also like to think that in Barts era they amped up their experimentation by a lot and were much crueller about it. So copious amounts of blood spilling from him as a result it is.

and he really, really does. Keeping up with his scenes in Phantoms was like, this guy has been through quite a bit give him the spa treatment just for me to put him through a lot in AAIT sdfghjkl but ultimately that’s just who he is, with someone like his background, it feels like he needs all the spa treatments, hugs and naps in the world 😭😭 and period his man Ed will always come through !

thank u for sharing this with us <333

p.s i feel u, bart HCs keep me alive too sdfghjkl take care 💛

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

the simple horror of being alive

Word Count: 2074 (AO3) (My Fic Masterpost)

Originally Posted on 6/25/2024

Rating: T

Summary:

Tim's relationship with razorblades is a turbulent one.

For Whumptober 2023 Day 27, Prompt #2: Scars

Tim knows that he has a lot of scars.

He remembers getting all of them; or, well, most of them. He doesn't remember the exact moment one particular worm shoved its way into his arm versus any other given worm, but he remembers the fucking occasion. There are no scars without stories.

Some of those stories are ones he can tell- the worms are public knowledge, so he can give an overview, minus all the psychotic bullshit he'd never believe if he wasn't living it; he's not opposed to talking about the permanent crosshatching pattern on his right knee, which happened when he'd fallen off a rope swing as a child straight onto raw wood planks; or, perhaps, the dark line on the back of his hand that came from a burn in the kitchen of his first job during high school.

Others, not so much. Those aren't the usually-visible ones, thankfully, so there aren't as many questions, and if there are any (which, rude), he's fully entitled to react anywhere between a simple "I'm not talking about it," to kicking the offending party out entirely. Depending on the audacity, of course. Most people don't, though, and presumably draw their own conclusions. Their origin is rather obvious, because not many things can accidentally cause neat, evenly spaced lines to be carved into a man's upper legs.

Those particular scars are all years old. They'd scabbed and faded while Danny was still alive, and only reopened just after he'd died- and even then, not for long. He's had enough pain for a lifetime, he doesn't need to be inflicting more on himself. That's what he told himself, among other things- Danny wouldn't want this, mostly.

Now he's staring down at his left leg, razorblade in hand, because he doesn't know what the hell Sasha would want and clearly, clearly there is more pain to be had. Maybe if he takes it out on himself now, it won't hit anyone else he cares about? That seems logical, really, to whatever degree logic even exists anymore. Last time he stopped, Sasha was unmade. The time before, it was Danny. If he doesn't stop, then nobody else will be taken away like that, right?

There's no real, actual logic to it, he knows. Nothing more than coincidence and superstition. Except the pattern could break if he keeps going back on old habits, and then none of this would be his fault. It wouldn't be his fault that Danny and Sasha are both dead, because it would be proven to just be coincidence if someone else is unmade while he's still cutting; if nobody else dies, well, that means he's keeping them alive.

With that in mind, he gets to work.

Each cut is neat, precise, almost as easy as it always used to be. Falling into a rhythm is almost habitual, like he never even stopped in the first place. The sting is the only thing that's fresh, the only thing that reminds him of how long it's been since the last time he did this. It's hypnotic in its routine, the way that even the pain bleeds together- instead of just one cut at a time, it's a whole bleeding spot, all sending soft waves of sharp-and-dull-and-sharp-and-dull pain.

It's not long before he's done. The cuts aren't deep, just barely enough for each of them to bleed, and most of them stopped on their own soon after he cut them open; only a few should be bandaged, but none of them need it. He wipes the whole area down with alcohol and bandages the slightly-deeper ones anyway, because there's no need to go risking an infection, and definitely no need to risk them opening up and bleeding through his jeans tomorrow.

It's easy to fall back into his old routine. Easy to spend an hour out of his evenings in the bathroom, sitting on the floor while leaned against the cabinet below the sink, cutting and watching and feeling almost nothing but the pinpricks from the blade. Easy to hide, easy to keep close like every other kind of hurt. Easy, easy, easy.

-----

Turns out Jon didn't go crazy and murder a random old man in the tunnels. At the very least, there's that, but it of course begs the question of who the hell did. He could be working in a building with a murderer, in fact he probably is, and he doesn't know who and he doesn't want to find out. He's never been more done with anything- if he could just get the damned words out, he'd have left the Institute a long time ago. Fuck the archives, fuck Jon, and fuck investigation of the Circus. He'd rather not get unmade like everybody else he ever cared about.

Turns out it's Elias, he learns not long later. Turns out he's working for some kind of eldritch nightmare god. Turns out he can't quit. Turns out he can't even leave all that long without feeling like he's being drained of everything, which isn't the greatest of revelations to have while trying desperately to forget the situation for just a moment.

There's nothing he can do about it. About any of it, about- about Jon, about leaving and the lack thereof, about the gnawing hope in the back of his head that someone or something's just going to kill him already so he can finally be done with it all. There's nothing he can do except take matters into his own hands, but he won't even do that- too much chance he could be passing up an opportunity to hurt the Circus, after all. It's the one thing he can think of to hang on for.

But "hanging on" doesn't mean he's making an active effort to be anything more than barely alive. "Hanging on" doesn't mean he's obligated to stay clean- not that he stopped cutting at all lately, not since Sasha, hardly even for a day- nor does it mean he's obligated to stay sober. Usually, he drowns the world in bottom-shelf liquor after he's already drowned it in blood, but sometimes he gets the order wrong. There's no real harm in it, no more than usual, and there's not much more risk than there was before. The routine is so simple, so easy, that he could likely do it while asleep and still not kill himself about it.

Tonight is one such night. The misery of everything slides a little further away than usual as the razorblade slides a little too clumsily across the flesh of his thigh. It doesn't hurt- well, it hurts, obviously, but no more than usual- and it's not particularly deep. It's fine. He continues.

The thing about his little habit is that, ostensibly, it can be concluded as a series of unsuccessful suicide attempts. The thing about his little habit is that he could actually, honestly die if he fucks it up too badly. The thing about his little habit is that no matter how easy it is to watch the blood bubble up and harmlessly scab over, it's even easier to nick something that won't stop so easily.

The realization that he might have fucked up comes slower than the puddle of blood that's forming below him. Standing up probably isn't a great idea, not if he doesn't want to bleed out faster, and it could be nothing, he'd thought dying would hurt more, wouldn't it? It just feels the same, doesn't even cut through the numbness that's blanketed his consciousness so completely ever since things started happening again.

He works through a haze he only partially blames on his earlier indulgences in just enough cheap liquor to make things just a little more bearable, slowly piecing together that he should probably call 999, probably let them know he's bleeding out on his bathroom floor. The razorblade is long gone by now, something he could find by looking at the pool of blood and trying to see what's shinier than everything around it, but he doesn't care about that right now. He thinks his phone is on the counter, he hopes it is, because he's not particularly fond of the idea of dying right now and it's becoming less desirable by the second.

Is it repulsive enough to go out of his way to prevent it, though? Would it truly be that bad to fall asleep and never wake up again? Does he want to be alone in a hospital, surrounded by concerned doctors and nurses convinced that this was on purpose, that he's a problem that needs to be fixed? Does he want to keep doing this day in, day out, where his only hope of possibly doing anything, anything productive with his life is probably going to kill him anyway?

He'll be dying soon enough, he thinks. May as well do something with it. He searches blindly for his phone on the counter with one hand, and clumsily tries to stop the blood flow with the other.

The call itself is... hazy. He half-forgets what he says as soon as he says it. There's an address in there, he's sure, and something about bleeding out. The pertinent information is there, but he thinks he might be rambling a bit too much. He can't for the life of him remember what the hell he's saying even as he says it.

He doesn't remember the paramedics getting to him at all.

-----

Tim wakes up in a hospital bed what feels like days later. There's an IV stuck in the crook of his elbow, his head and thigh both hurt like nothing else, and he's got an admittance wristband that seems like it's brightly colored on purpose. He wouldn't be surprised if he was on some kind of suicide watch, despite the fact that he's not particularly suicidal. It's not like they can read his mind or know he isn't lying.

His thoughts are interrupted by the familiar sound of a throat being cleared near him, and he instinctively glances over to see Jon, of all people, sitting in a chair next to him and looking uncomfortable. Why is he here? Who told him? Did he just find out himself?Sasha. She had been his last emergency contact, after Danny died. He'd forgotten to change it to someone else, after everything, but it's not like he even knows who anymore. Martin would be his best bet, as much as he hates to admit that Jon's right, except that he's not entirely sure that Martin wouldn't fall apart after the phone call that they probably gave Jon. He doesn't want to be another burden to bear for someone who's in the same situation as he is, who's lost just as much, if not more, to all the same things in this fucking job.

"No. You can stay. Fuck knows it's the only thing that'll get you out of those damned archives." He tries for a stupid half-joke, and he expects it to fall completely flat, so he's a little surprised when it elicits a quiet snort from Jon. He feels proud of it, despite himself, just like he used to whenever he got Jon's stupid professional facade to crack.

There's silence for a moment, maybe more, where Tim's just adjusting to being awake and Jon looks like he's chewing on a lemon, when he seems to decide to spit out whatever it is he's thinking about.

"Tim... if I- if this is because- " Jon starts stuttering again, painfully so, and Tim finally decides to have mercy on the poor man.

"This predates you, Jon. It predates the Institute. Don't martyr yourself over it." It's true- it was only ever a matter of time an accident like this happened, it was only a coincidence that it was now. Risky behavior like this was never going to result in anything but awful consequences.

Jon, for his part, sighs quietly and barrels on. "Still, if there's anything I can do to help- "

"If you want to help, get a damned nurse. I'm thirsty as hell." Tim interrupts again, partly to make the conversation stop and partly to get the water that he actually needs. The whole thing is awkward and awful, and he'd rather Jon shut up about it and never try to talk about it again.

This is his problem to deal with, just like the Circus. It always has been.

[atomicc]

If you aren't going to draw bruce fat don't draw him at all anyways unrelated thought but the ways a bad childhood can scar you for life aren't always obvious or immediately visible. My parents forced me to learn to walk silently and now that's my permanent way of walking. But it's not a normal way to walk it's an abnormal gait and because of that I get holes in the tops of my shoes really easily and have back and leg pain at the end of most days from my weird walk. It's that kind of stuff that the adults in a childs life don't even think twice about but will live with that kid for the rest of their life so basically be nice to kids I don't know

[weaselbeaselpants]

Lazy but basic soft redesign of the IMP crew, just to tone down some details

I wish I had more time to do more than trace over, but I had to rely on line art of the cast and going off the main color palette with screencaps to alter. I

Version 1, basic revision:

Version 2, my indulgent "redesign"...which is not my art so it's still just a lazy edit.

Moxxie = Yellow red(greed ring) | black markings (freckles and tail stripes) | wears fake ass drug dealer looking suit | wears a gangster's necktie alluding to Millie

Millie = Crimson(wrath ring) skin | maroon markings (scars) | tiny bodee but weird stub feet (under her jeans) | Wears outdoor work cloths worn from use | has a visible hanky hanging out her pocket alluding to Moxxie

Blitzo = ....sunburnt? red, as to hide what exact ring he comes from | white markings (vitiligo??) | hoves visible at the tip of feet | Skull decal is horse like to show off his love for horses | wears sleek, 'bad ass' looking clothing that makes him feel more threatening than he actually is.

Luna = Dark gray markings on arms and legs, the visible blip of 'cold' color in the other three's mostly warm palettes | visible claws on hands | flopped ears like a wolfhound, though otherwise resembles an elkhound still | wears her top, shorts, collar and piercings; her collar still binds her to Blitzo

For the specific 'redesign bits in version 2: All imps are as Viv's notes mention; a mix of vaguely reptilian and hooves. They are all different shades of red depending on what ring they come from which are almost entirely a singular color (greed = gold and bronz, wrath = redredred, pride = royal violet, lust = hot pink, gluttony = orange, envy = green, sloth = blue. Pentagram city, which is where Hazbin takes place, is in the center instead of the pride ring and is multiple colors). Hellhounds are legallypossessions though all higher hellborn on the chain consider those under them their 'possessions'; Most hellhounds walk on all fours w no clothes because they are considered familiars, not imps themselves, which marks Luna as different and is why she abuses Blitzo- she's essentially a slave no matter how nice her legal master is to her, and good on her (no references to real world slavery, obvious. But I mean, like, it's hell and it's a way to mark these characters as awful but endearing even when they're against one another, because it's fucking hell). Hellhounds also wear the marks of their owners, their sigil, as a tag. Though Imps are not allowed to leave hell ever and even sometimes forbidden to travel between other rings that aren't theirs. Imps still can not be harmed by fire or most mortal instruments-- however, hellborn are able to kill each other, with an immediate soulless death initiated through angel weaponry (the only thing that can actually eliminate sinners' souls). All demons can possess mortal things while on earth and can be driven out through 'exorcisms' = which is fanatical flailing that often kills the host. Because, again, this is hell and it's a show about demons so show me that possession comedy.

The biggest change with my redesigns of the HH/HB demons is giving the imps, succubi and hellhounds distinctively square pupils; cherubs have heart shaped pupils with gleamy over anime-eyes; goetia level demons and archangels can have completely pupilless eyes or whited out pupils; the seven sins and Charlies family have x-shaped pupils. Mortal humans have normal eyes. I think you can keep the deranged and over the top designing in tact w Vivziepop's work, it just needs come consistency.