#so many spots

[declawed2]

It’s 2:30am where I am right now and I’ve spent the last couple of hours losing my mind over these guys.

I couldn’t help but think they kinda looked like dragons while I was drawing them, but there’s nothing wrong with that of course.

Meet the False Fawns of Aepheqar! Sometimes tamed by hunters or pets for wannabe nobles, these guys are pretty docile and fine with anyone as long as they’re being fed and cared for.

Class: Uncommon non-magical beast, Rare magical beast variants Cost: 50 silver - 5 gold, can be more if ordered to design (equivalent: starting prices for a small house in a medium/large city’s suburbs)

Their preferred biome is a forest, with mainly night and nature magics in their surroundings, but have also been found by mountains and in rare cases in desert canyons. They generally range from around 1.5-2ft tall and 2.5-3ft long, and they tend to weigh around 40 pounds, able to fly for only short periods of time.

Despite their youthful look, from a deer’s perspective at least, the images above are depictions of fully grown Flighted Fawns. While research has proven somewhat inconclusive, biologists have come to find two most likely theories for the evolution of their pelt. 

Either they evolved this patterning through generations of successful hunting through luring in would-be predators with their vulnerable appearance, or they were at some point hunted to a low enough wild population that when they go out of style and are released they change the overall population’s phenotype. Having gone in and out of style in high society many a time by now, and being bred for rarer and more exquisite patternings each time, the variation could have feasibly come from either route.

Most Flighted Fawns are Crepuscular, being most active in the evenings and early mornings, but have shown remarkable ability to adapt to Nocturnal lifestyles as well. This along with their amicable nature and proud yet gentle looks add to their appeal as pets for most any parties. 

On the other hand, they’re omnivorous, needing to consume both flora and fauna to survive, with the incisors, fangs, and molars to eat most anything they come across. Having large, rotating ears, they can hear (and in conclusion see) most anything within a mile of their location, while being able to tell if it’s food or foe. This is rather beneficial to hunters, some of which have been able to train their Fawns to react differently to different creatures, or to direct their hunters to the creature being hunted that day.

Though their eyes aren’t the best, seeing somewhat worse than the average deer, they remain with a full range of sight at 300 degrees, noticing even the smallest movements within this scope. Instead of using this, it has been found that they prefer to use their incredible hearing to detect both predator and prey nearby.

If they ever find themselves faced with a predator, they’re able to use their wings to quickly get away, flying up to the nearest tree or outcropping available to them to wait out the danger. They can lift and flap their wings to appear larger, but are skittish by nature and only fight predators or other Flighted Fawns if absolutely necessary.

If faced with prey, they have sharp talons on their wings to grapple and scratch, while their sharp back hooves kick and puncture their prey, a sharp mouth of teeth sealing the deal. Rare magical variants, mainly found in aristocratic households or incredibly magically dense forests of their preferred magic, are sometimes also able to use their magic on the opponent in various ways, from sedatives, to poisons, to rapid growth.

Drow villagers, the main tamers of these beasts, are able to tell the differences between the pelt color of a Common Deer and a Flighted Fawn, as well as pointing out the obvious differences upon closer inspection. Though, popular myth tells the story of how their hooves became red.

Long story short, after hearing from these villagers, one thing became clear.

If you see red, you’re dead.

[macdenlover]

it came to my realization that 99% of my fandom related headaches would be cured if everyone understood this

[furiouskettle]

I LOVE THEMMMMMMM theyre so goofy

[notbecauseofvictories]

I'm re-reading the Discworld series for reasons, and honestly the most relatable part of reading these as an adult is how many of the protagonists start out being tired, used to their little routine and vaguely disgruntled by the interruption of the Plot. Sam Vimes wants to lie drunk in a gutter and absolutely doesn't want to be arresting dragons. Rincewind is yanked into every situation he's ever encountered, though he'd much rather be lying in a gutter too. (Minus the alcohol. Plus regretting everything he's ever done said witnessed or even heard about fourth-hand in his whole life.) Granny Weatherwax is deeply suspicious of foreign parts and that includes the next town over; Nanny has leaned into the armor of "nothing ever happens to jolly grannies who terrorize their daughters-in-law and make Saucy Jokes"

Only the young people don't seem to have picked up on this---and that's fortunate, because someone has to run around making things happen, if only so Vimes and Granny and Rincewind have a reason to get up (complaining bitterly the whole time) and put it all to rights. Without Carrot, Margrat, Eric, etc. these characters don't have that reason; they're likely to stay in the metaphorical gutter and keep wondering where it all went wrong or why anything has to change.

............well, that's not quite true. You get the sense that Vetinari knows how much certain people hate the Plot. And as the person sitting behind the metaphorical lighting board of Ankh-Morpork, he takes no small pleasure in forcing the Plot-haters specifically to stand up, and say some lines.

[pangur-and-grim]

they love apple more than god

[machinerot]

[8pxl]

PSA 🗣️ another scammer using genAI without disclosing it

pixlgirl has been posting generated AI (targeting fandoms) without disclosing it, passing it off as their genuine art and has apparently scammed at least one person into ‘commissioning’ them. this is a public PSA so yall can block them, and not interact. please do not harass them!

it’s incredibly shitty to be disingenuous while posting AI but even shittier to scam people with it 🤢 stay diligent yall

[amu-says-hav-says]

I can’t believe I went through all of Season 2 assuming Nina was the stand-in for Crowley when you actually pay attention it’s so CLEAR that she’s Aziraphale. I was tricked by her spiky, sarcastic, cynical outer shell and lulled into a false sense of security by Maggie’s bubbly optimism and wholesome goodness, because on the surface they reflect the ineffable husbands perfectly, in their personalities, their aesthetics, even many of their actions and morals. but not, and this is the real key, when it comes to their “relationship”. but those first impressions really had me damn fooled. 

I missed the blatantness of Nina’s “we’re just friends. actually we’re not friends. we barely know each other.” the same thing Aziraphale said in season 1.  the way he still struggles to quantify their friendship when Nina asks. Nina’s sarcasm when Crowley asks about rain and awnings because it worked for him (we all know it LMAO). hell, that whole convo the girls have in the rain is so AziraCrow (“I know. I’m not your type” “...You have no idea” hits so much harder the second time, help meeeee.) “Lindsay” maybe being symbolic of Heaven and Aziraphale’s toxic relationship with them and their abuse? (the handwritten text messages in red pen make me think of angry notes on paperwork, anyone else?) because Crowley has never actually cared about what Hell thinks of him, just not getting into trouble (or him or Aziraphale getting hurt). Maggie is always chasing Nina. NINA NEVER GOES IN THE RECORD STORE. Just like Crowley always goes to the bookstore, to Aziraphale, Zira NEVER WENT TO THE FLAT (apart from The Swap but that doesn’t count imo). Crowley has always chased Zira, not the other way around. Always there to rescue him, always going to him for company, always relying on their shared connection, always US. OUR SIDE. All through season one, he comes to Zira every time to work together, never trying to work alongside Hell in any way that isn’t to save their skins or Earth, while Zira hides things from Crowley because he STILL thinks Heaven is ultimately good and will do the right thing if he can just show them. fix it from the inside. 

Maggie working up the courage to finally say something, to put herself out there, while Nina is utterly oblivious and then when she does realise Maggie has feelings, becoming standoffish, putting up that barrier, fighting it, denying it, ITS SO CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT ORDER. the way I was fooled into thinking Nina’s trust issues are Crowley because he does have trust issues ofc he does BUT Crowley has ALWAYS TRUSTED AZIRAPHALE. has always relied on him. has always been hurt when Aziraphale doesn’t immediately reciprocate the way he expects (the holy water request, the bandstand, the “off in the stars” etc). he’s always the one putting himself forward. Aziraphale has always been the one to second guess everything, to fight their connection, their similarities, their friendship. the girls really made me think it was going to be okay when they sat Crowley down, even as my inner sirens were going haywire about Metatron interfering, they were telling Crowley he just needs to open up and it’ll all work out BUT HE’S ALREADY AT THAT POINT. he may not say it, and by gosh is that part of their damn problem, but he’s always SHOWN IT. he’s not Nina who needs time to heal and recover from her broken trust, he’s always been Maggie believing it doesn’t matter, they’ll end up together in the end anyway AND I WALKED RIGHT INTO THE TRAP THAT THIS MEANT THEY WERE GOING TO BE OKAYYYYYYYYYYY

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The indescribable tension between an overworked and underpaid smut writer, and his biggest fan hater.

(for @frummpets)

[zunaki]

Repainted an old Byler illustration 💖

[inkedberries]

expanding on the thought of kudou getting the call sign 'hero' and afo getting irked by it for some reason

[steakout-05]

in love with how Data runs across the screen back to his station like a fucking cryptid in episode 24

[numberonedukethomasapologist]

Duke keeps losing durags and and bonnets around the manor and they end up in the most random spots (he takes them off when he's half asleep and throws them somewhere)

-Jason: Duchess, I found your durag.

Duke: oh? I lost that months ago, Where was it?

Jason: it was in my helmet 😒

-Damian: Thomas. Here's your headwrap.

Duke: where was it this time?

Damian: batcow was eating it.

-Stephanie: *throws the silk bonnet at duke* wherever you bought that please buy me one. My hair has no kinks in it at all~

Duke: you've had it this whole time??

Stephanie: it was in my laundry basket😋

[sainz100]

2024 Brazilian GP | x

[terris-mayweather]

I Kinda' Wanna' Kiss Your Boyfriend If You Don't Mind

Art commissioned from Kemmuono.

Here is all of their commission info: https://kemmuono.carrd.co/#

Niles is a very lucky hyena to have two men in his life that love him so deeply.

This AMAZING piece was done by Kemmuono again. I loved their art so much and had to get another piece that was rattling around in my head. We were all listening to Chappel Roan's new album together and Kaynen (the lab) and I had a mischievous idea once we heard the lyrics. I gave the artist a bit of a headache since I wanted so many details but it came out AMAZINGLY. Even included my necklaces! Truly an incredible artist. I included detailed alt text for anyone that wants to read the full scene. Also a textless alternative. If any of you are interested I did write a small prose piece in conjunction with this scene, do you all want to read it? I hope you all have a lovely day!!!

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."