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#its name is Chimera :]

mobblespsycho100 · 1 year

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help i cant stop making ocs 🫧🪞🫠

[ID: 3 traditional sketches of the artist's original character on one page. There are some purple and grayish-blue lines and doodles decorating the drawings. He's sitting on a throne in the first sketch and looking smug and wearing a suit, jeans, and heels. His most notable feature is his long braid that runs down his side. His name, "Chimera “E.” Magoria" is written in the blue highlighter. The sketch below that is a bust shot of him smiling at the viewer with head tilted to the side. There are also bubbles drawn besides him. The last doodle is on the right side of the page with his hand on his chin. He's smiling with eyes closed and says "hope I'm not just a pretty boy to you guys but also a freaky girl" /End ID]

#sash oc tag #chimera magoria #they use any pronouns btw . she doesnt rlly care abt it ^-^#just used he/him on the image description for consistency . but like again he doesnt care #twst oc #its also kinda obvious who he is twisted off from based on design and name tbh but . yeah 👍#twisted wonderland oc

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1327-1 · 1 year

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COWBOY TECTONIC

smooth gunslinger an appetite of a valley the magic act is disappearing into the dust thinking about god, the way he tugs and carves into the throat convinced the hollow is for him to fill. i’m a constant swallower, a prison on paper. the traversing void operator melancholic come approach spring asks me for a name. you’d have to put a lure in the river, and die with your knees by the bank tucked into tadpole lining and born again in the face of a bondaged man. from circlets and bangles, sharktooth’d and halo’d draws the sap of village prayer and kiss tonight, straight around the eyes floods the bellows of guttings soothsatyr and shotgun bedsayers who have not much but to stay and watch a tawny head eye the sunken valley

quiaoit,

#uhh i have a website where i post poetry #cowboy poem #poems #poetry #whatever giving this another try #no one ask me about chimera im on like 8 different drugs and i think its a fun name to throw my disheveled creative identity into #in other words i miss the actual use of usernames/nicknames

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fortunatelycolorfulgay · 11 months

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So ofc in my time of boredom Im continuing my like 4th or 5th rewatch of h x h and I’m back the chimera ant arc😭 Im gonna cry again. It’s so good but my heart feels like its dead every time I watch it, it’s so sad 😭😭

#killugon #gay #anime #lgbt #hxh #chimera ant arc #h x h CA arc #sos #cries #i did this to myself #i do this every time #i do this to myself #its me hi im the problem its me #they just entered the country #of the chimera ant #I cannot remember the name #my memory is shit

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aria0fgold · 6 months

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Whumptober day 13, alternative prompt used: Body Modification

Character: Nightmare

Within a forest in the middle of the night, with skies dark and stars hidden, only the moon illuminating the surrounding, a man lay writhing on the floor, clutching at the ground with nails bloodied from dragging across it, small stones pricking his skin. He bit his lip hard that blood dripped down his chin, suppressing screams that longed to escape his throat ever since his body started to hurt.

His mind became increasingly foggy, memories blurring and turning to static. He was just on a simple camping trip, or perhaps he wasn't at all? He wanted to get away from the stress of the city, maybe not as well? Has he sent a message to his parents, final words to be said before he completely loses who he is, he can't remember either. What was it he encountered to be subjected to this torment, a monster? a demon? He can't even remember that too. His mind was blank, the more the minutes ticked by, the more the pain intensified. It was all that filled his head.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. His lips had long parted to let out a scream of a voice he couldn't recognize as his. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. His face soaked with tears, his body soaked with sweat, he can barely hear the sound of something being ripped open from all the screaming. Rip, rip, rip, drip, drip, drip. His face stung, voice broke, it was only then that the man found where the ripping was, yet it didn't stop there.

He felt it all over his body, his shoulder, his arm, his chest, his stomach, his legs, everywhere on his body, he can feel his skin being ripped open by an invisible force. The man then prayed, he prayed and prayed and prayed. Prayed for it to stop, prayed for whatever god to save him, yet no one listened, no one answered. The man merely continued to writhe on the ground, bathed in his own blood. There was the sound of stitching caused by an invisible needle that closed what was ripped open.

His eyes then burned with a pain as if a hand reached deep into his eye socket and squeezed his eyes. The man clutched his head, digging his nails deep into his scalp, tears of blood flowed down his cheeks. The man kept praying still, he doesn't want to die, he doesn't want to die, he doesn't want to die…

Please… I don't want to die…

… … …

Silence enveloped the entire forest, with only the sound of rustling leaves and chirping of birds as the sun peaked through the horizon. Prayers lost to the wind as the man lost who he is, a mere husk sat where he once lay, with stitches scattered around his body and eyes that can never belong to that of a human. With no memories but a single purpose in mind, it was time to satiate his growing hunger. The fear of others.

#ariawrites #whumptober 2023 #ariaoc #ariaoc: Nightmare #whumptober day 13 prompt: alt #is this considered gore?#tw gore #cw gore #just in case it is #didn't get to mention his name here cuz tbf it was like in the past waaay before he came to be referred to as nightmare #i thiiiink i mentioned nightmare waaay back in the past? through an ask chimera sent me #i dont remember what i said but yeah nightmare was mentioned then! but i will talk bout him a bit in a separate post anyway #cuz am like rewriting his story a liiiil bit. basically expanding more on it #this was the dudes transformation story pretty painful stuff #its my first time writin smth like this so am not sure how well i did but am happy with the result anyway!#no age but during his moment he was around 20+

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kristhekrispy · 2 months

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PLASE TELL ME ABT YOUR OWN OCS !!!!!!!!! plis :> if u want to

HEHE

okay little disclaimer I have no art of them that im proud of and the characters make no sense because they're from when I was 9-12. anyways

MAIN CHARACTER Piper! So, in the story, there's magic that some people have. you can teach yourself, but some people are already naturally skilled. piper isn't either of these. she wasn't skilled and when she tried teaching herself, she failed. really bad. she didn't even care about magic, she just wanted people to be proud of her......shes my little sopping wet cat.

Aruna! Aruna is one friend of Piper. She specialized in more dark magic. people would think that she was smart and mysterious, but she was just sorta quiet. kind of person that keeps to herself and then is really open when you're close :]

Sól! another friend of Piper. acts happy and stuff, optimistic to a fault at times. he specialized in light magic and healing. he's seen as the dumbest in the group and it gets to him.

all three of them are somewhere in their mid to late 20s...I think i'd say around 26 or 27. all knew each other as kids and grew up together.

and I think I brought up mischief, malice, and mayhem? anyways, they're side characters. just these three kids, pulling pranks and stuff. probably stuck to each other like piper, sól, and aruna did at their age. they're treated like problem kids, but no one does anything to help them for a while, making them act out even more. a lot of stuff still isn't clear for me yet, but I think maybe piper would be reminded of herself and her friends, and she'd try treating them right....the kids stay chaotic, but they'd at least be treated right. I really need to do more with them.....

#TY FOR ASKING!!#first actual post dedicated to my ocs I think.....#I rushed this out so a lot of stuff is probably poorly written #and my computer's about to die haha..#not that that matters #there were a lot of other characters #but this would become such a long post if I went into all of them #um #if you have anymore questions abt them I'd love to try answering them! if I dont have an answer it gives me an opportunity to think them ou #and im always happy to think my ocs #okay my computer is at 1% im posting this now just in case. dont wanna lose everything ive typed and I dont trust drafts #long post #imperium chordata #<- story's name. its a WIP okay.#better than the old name #old name was “The Chimera's Right and the Manticore's Law”#which was a mouthful and didn't even fit the story. at all #Sól #Aruna #Piper #Malice #Mischief #Mayhem

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suzumori521 · 9 months

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The name of this creature is YOTAcat or POTOOcat.

This creature is a combination of Yotaka (potoo) and cat.

His true identity is one of an alien reconnaissance unit that plans to invade the earth.

His body can change its shape at will by copying other creatures and objects.

When he came to Earth, he first tried to copy the appearance of the planet's main life form.

However, the first thing he saw there was a cat. He decided that the creature was the main life form and tried to copy the cat's form.

However, by some accident, he also copied the information of Potoo, and his body became a chimera of cat and Potoo.

What was even more unexpected for these aliens was that once they copied the earth creatures, the original spirit invaded their psyche.

His spirit was about to be taken over by cats and POTOO!

The human who found the strange creature brought it home out of curiosity. Not knowing it was a vicious alien.......

#creature #original #digital art #original character #character design #monster #digital illustration #人外 #artwork #alien

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brancusi7 · 11 months

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From The Studios Of The Twister School Of Conceptual Art : The mythological Cheshire Cat, best known for its appearance in Alice in Wonderland, is a rather mischievous cat with a large, grinning face. It can also make itself invisible, leaving behind by John Seven Via Flickr: In The Beginning... Every woman who has been pregnant still carries cells from her foetus/fetus within her bloodstream. Cells from the pregnancy will reside within the mother’s bloodstream and organs for the rest of her life. Even if the pregnancy was terminated or if there was a miscarriage these said genes would remain with the Mother. There is a name for this so-called condition, it is called microchimerism , which is named after the Greek chimera. Defined as a mythical, monstrous fire-breathing animal that is composed of the parts of three animals : a lion, a snake and a goat. Also an illusion or fabrication of the mind; especially : an unrealisable dream, "a fancy, a chimera in my brain, troubles me in my prayer" — John Donne

#From The Studios Of The Twister School Of Conceptual Art : The mythological Cheshire Cat best known for its appearance in Alice in Wonder #it is called microchimerism #which is named after the Greek chimera. Defined as a mythical #monstrous fire-breathing animal that is composed of the parts of three animals : a lion #a snake and a goat. Also an illusion or fabrication of the mind; especially : an unrealisable dream #a fancy a chimera in my brain troubles me in my prayer #flickr

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organsoutsidelovinglydescribed · 4 months

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Body Horror Week Prompts Are Live!

Welcome to Trigun Body Horror Week 2024!

We’ve set up a week of fantastic flavors of bodily horrors for you, and here is our official post sharing the prompts for you to cook with.

Body Horror Week is going to run from Feb 11th, 2024 until Feb 17th, 2024

For each set of prompts, we have an organ, two different songs, and a quote to inspire you into making the best horrors you’ve got.

The official hashtag for the week is #trigunbodyhorrorweek, and we’ll do our best to reblog your submissions the day of and whatever we may have missed during the week, we’ll reblog after. Feel free to tag us as well!

An AO3 collection is forthcoming.

There’s a copy of the prompts list below the cut, as well as links to the A-Sides and B-Sides for the music.

The art for the graphic was done by the wonderful @hashtagcaneven

Link for the music A-Sides and the B-Sides as playlists. Spotify playlist here.

Feb 11th: Eyes | Mama – My Chemical Romance | Mask of My Own Face – Lemon Demon | I hate it when humans and augmented humans ruin things for no reason. Maybe because I was a thing before I was a person, and if I’m not careful, I could be a thing again. - Network Effect, Martha Wells (Murderbot Diaries)

Feb 12th: Skin | This Body – The Dear Hunter | Hurt – Johnny Cash | Skin against skin, blood and bone / You’re all by yourself, but you’re not alone / You wanted in, and now you’re here / Driven by hate, consumed by fear – “Bodies”, Drowning Pool

Feb 13th: Lungs | Sin Eater – Penelope Scott | Between Two Lungs – Florence + the Machine | I remember seeing myself splayed across the floor of the kennel, a chimera split along a hundred seams, taking communion with a handful of dogs. - The Things, Peter Watts

Feb 14th: Heart | Love Me Dead – Ludo | Your Body, My Temple – Will Wood | The heart wants what it wants. What it wants is blood. - Welcome to Night Vale Twitter

Feb 15th: Limbs | Blood – My Chemical Romance | Body – Mother Mother | Pluck that crimson orb rusted package from the branches mother’s arms our tree you’ve chopped away at for too long with your mouth-bright ax pretty-teethed boy. - “A Brother Named Gethsemane”, Natalie Diaz

Feb 16th: Intestines | Void – Melanie Martinez | Blood on My Name – The Brothers Bright | It is a corpse rotting slowly from within while maggots writhe in its belly. - Warhammer 40k

Feb 17th: Alien | Roots – In This Moment | sprorgnsm – superorganism | To be trapped, unmoving, within the body that has betrayed her so often, feeling every sensation as it grows and warps and sprouts, never knowing what new mutation it will visit on her next. - The Magnus Archives, Episode 171, "The Gardener"

#trigun #trigunbodyhorrorweek #trigun maximum #trigun stampede #trigun 98 #trigun events #vash the stampede #fandom events

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diejager · 5 months

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Hallo! Truly loved the MonsterAU stories! Wonderful, amazing writing!

Would it be possible for you to write: what if human!reader was turned into a chimera?

Akin to this:

Feel free to ignore!

Chimæra

Pairing: Monster 141 x Chimera!reader

Cw: science experiment, human torture, human testing, gore?, blood, canon-typical violence, unethical human experiments, kidnapping, child abuse, malnutrition, child neglect, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.6k (A/N): credit to @bluegiragi’s monster 141 designs.

They were tipped off by an anonymous source that some shady and highly illegal things were being done in a small and remote town near the border of Belarus, their ongoings unknown to both the government and public of their country, but someone had given Laswell a file containing all the horrific tests conducted within the closed walls of the innocuous-looking compound —a laboratory dressed as a simple military base. The folder held snapshots of emails and files sent between scientists and researchers, small indications of what was being done to both humans and monsters, yet withholding important intel about certain things. It disclosed the location, the names and faces of every worker and leading figure in the compound, the number of security and their schedules, and what was done, but not what was truly happening, it left small clues, sublet words here and there with hidden meanings —never clear images, blurry ones as if the person was in a rush.

Despite not having clear indications of the illegal activities, Laswell had enough to have 141 sent to take it down, to bring the dehumanising lab to its ground and burn it down. She didn’t have trouble convincing them, it was telling enough to let them read the condensed files for them to read, to see themselves the monstrosity being done to children and monsters they took, kidnapped from around the world to be left at the deceitful hands of crazed scientists. There wasn’t much to be found outside it, the base wore the facade of a benevolent patron, bearing the crest of kindhearted investors wanting to rebuild rundown houses and reconstruct rough and broken roads and paved streets in the town they took to hide. It worked for the most part, they profited from this by acting without raising any suspicion from anyone, neither the authorities nor the people.

“Christ,” Gaz swore, looking down at the words in the file he received, the teased truth and the dreadful treatments through a thick layer of secrets and subtle wording, the only clear intel was from the straightforward emails sent to and from researchers and the heads of the facility, unabashed and shameless bragging of their success and the narrative to which these subjects could be used. “Why did it take so long?”

A recurrent theme of these was about a certain subject, it was about C34, spoken with such pride and joy about their creation, the work of the new world and the future made within these walls. Most emails were the exchanges between them about C34’s training, the ongoing treatments and every successful mission and exercises, they spoke of C34 as if they were a dog, a rabid mutt they captured and took on the task of domesticating it. It was demeaning, degrading and cruel, to look at another being as something lower, something needing domestication —it went against every rule and law put in place to protect humanity, the many conventions sworn to protect the goodwill and security of the innocents.

“We’ve had our suspicions before,” Laswell sighed, the images of the screen switching with the small click of her control, laser pointing at the images of various weapons cache and illegally procured weapons. “There was a slip up in the shipping, it was dropped here-” she motioned to a circled area in the map, a closeup of a secluded road near the town, “and we were able to retrace it to the facility. We needed more intel about the facility before acting and we needed to know what we're facing here, if we should send a team or send you.”

“What now?” Price tilted his head back, smoke leaving the sides of his frown, a deep and unpleasant one. He couldn’t even look at the intel given with a straight face, the shadowed truth of cruelty and dehumanising acts done by humans. “Figured you send us after seeing this, Laswell?”

Laswell nodded, jumping to another slide, showing blurred images of subject C34, a blurry figure, tall and imposing in every way possible. They stood high, stature seemingly one belonging to a monster or hybrid: on four legs and the wide, familiar shape of wings, everything about C34 cried monster. Perhaps one they captured as a child, taken from their mother and kept in this cell. There were many pictures of this one, blurry and disfigured, but others had smaller shapes, the size of children with various characteristics.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus!” Soap spat, disgust dripping from his tone in waves, unending as were the other’s curses, each holding their level of horror and repugnance. His face was wound tight, brows dipped lowly and lips pursed, he balled his fists, anger rising within him with every image he saw, the deplorable conditions and the care given to the monsters —what could they even expect from this shady company engineering monster and human DNA to fit their preferred narrative, for money, for reputation, for strength. “We ‘ave tae do somethin’ about this, Price!”

Soap - Johnny - had always been the more emotional one, letting his good heart lead his decisions when the situation seemed to fit it. His wolf made him more susceptible to emotional attachment, a pack mentality driven deeply into his mind and heart, he was viciously loyal and wore his heart on his sleeve, uncaring of how he’d be hurt by a betrayal, he simply saw the best in the world, something many couldn’t after a while, but Soap could, Johnny was a good man at heart. That’s why he reacted the most out of everyone, voicing his distaste and hate, his need for revenge and the sanctity of the lives being stolen in the facility.

Soap pushed Price to agree, seeing no reason not to lead the breach, to uncover everything done to innocent lives. His eyes connected to the man hidden in the darkness, his blue eyes gleaming with fierce justice, a contrast to the wraith who lay in silence, abhorrent and seething quietness. Ghost peered at him, head tilted up with white pupils darkened by black eyes, death layering off him with calmness. He gave Soap a curt nod, affirmation for him to continue to voice his mind, to help those in need.

“Seems like it’s been decided, Kate,” Price gave her a lopsided smirk, amber eyes narrowed with what could be read as anger, teeth sinking into the girth of his cigar, ash falling. “When are we going?”

Her lips parted in a proud grin, eyes gleaming with something dark and wrathful. She leaned on the table, head held high and shoulder broad while she flicked off the projector:

“Wheels up at 1500 tomorrow.”

You stared down the man before you, watching him tremble under your cold gaze, steps hesitant to approach you despite being seated, body prone on the hard floor you called a bed. He was new, possibly recently employed and his boss - or his direct manager - played a dirty game with him. It was some kind of rite of passage for every new employee courageous enough to accept their recruitment, all bright-eyed geniuses wanting to build their place on earth with forthgoing discovery, desperate and narcissistic; yet they were so easily tricked into you cage, locked in by cackling and grinning guards and coworkers.

He smelled young, fresh-faced and a bit nervous, most were when they first saw you. You remembered everyone who walked in, the smell of fear and anxiety, the disgusting scent oozing off their bodies, rotten and putrid like a rotting corpse. You would’ve gagged and choked if you weren’t used to it, having grown close to the smell of death, calling the reaper your friend. You weren’t bothered by him, only the cart he was wheeling over, a big and heavy cooler that smelled fresh. He was made to bring you food by his boss, a cruel joke played on every new scientist who was always so eager to meet you before cowering in terror once the lock clicked.

Standing before your third cage, he unlocked the small hatch and, with effort and a loud grunt, pushed the cooler into the hole, big enough for a big cooler but small enough to fit your arm through it. You waited until he stumbled away, distancing him from you before reaching for the container, it was light, weighing little in your palm. They fed you raw meat, sometimes buying the fresh catch of a Belarus hunter, usually an elk or a wild boar, but if they were lucky, a bison or a bear, other times they would have conserved meat shipped from outside the town, bigger cities or outside the border.

Today was an elk, the meat cold and free of rot, it smelled as good as a fresh kill did, bloody and heady. You ripped into it without care, tuning out the loud retch from the scientist as you gorged on your meal, claws tearing it in half and biting into the bloody meat. Blood rolled down your lip, painting your cheeks crimson and staining the cream-coloured rag they considered a shirt. It would be changed after your meal, as it always was. Despite the elk weighing around six hundred kilograms, you finished it quickly, with pointed teeth cutting and pulling flaps of meat and ligament, blood spraying and dirtying the metal ground near the hatch.

It was filling, albeit cold. You cleaned your hands of blood, licking it off like a grooming cat, tongue laving over the sharp edge of your claw and under your blunt fingernails. You peered at him from under your lashes, eyes gleaming in the darkness. You watched - pleased with yourself - him shudder, face growing green with unnerve at your show. You knew he was desperate to leave, to get a breath of fresh air outside of your cell, you understood his fear and wanted him to suffer for helping your owner, the man watching over your training, but you wanted him gone before he emptied his stomach on your floor. So you pushed the cooler out, clawed arm breaching past the hatch to leave it farther from your cage.

He left hastily, legs shaky and face pale.

“I want a bison next time,” you growled, words rolling off your tongue huskily from its rare use.

It looked as inconspicuous through the NVGs as it did in the pictures, a few grey buildings built lowly to hide an immense labyrinth dug into the ground, secret passages crossing unending halls with locked doors and tipped with surveillance cameras to watch over the whole facility. They studied the very walls that made this place a secret fortress, from the body to its heart, like mounting a brigade against a castle, Laswell’s team found the few hidden entrances that connected to the lesser-used passages, winding through many hallways and wide vents, big enough for humans but too tight for monsters the size of C34. Task Force 141 led the mission, infiltrating the base under the darkness of night where they could crawl and slink through shadows to catch what they hunted. They were joined by Marines, all experienced and skillful, wearing scars like a badge of honour. It would either be a quick in and out, or a long and strenuous infiltration.

Price took Gaz and led half of the Marines through the west, breaching the lab from above. They pushed in steadily, relaying information and physical cues to Watcher - Laswell - with a body cam recording everything they saw, the facade they wore above ground, hiding their dark enterprise. Ghost, as usual, has Soap watch his six, following closely behind him with puppy-like loyalty and the other half of the Marines. Team Two’s - Delta - mission started through the underground passage they sniffed out, a long and unwinding hall that went straight through the heart of the facility. Ghost’s team went dark, needing the cover of silence to stay hidden in a highly protected area of the base to run this clandestine mission. They spoke only when needing to, to make calls, to reaffirm intel or to let both Bravo and Watcher know a change, the tech team in the temporary safe house a few miles away from the compound watched through the cams, from the subtle change in the air to a jarring lead to what was happening.

While Price and Gaz worked on creating a distraction, taking a load off team Delta’s shoulders, they could work through the system faster and more efficiently with the fire taken off their backs and front. It was controlled chaos for both teams, creating a mass discordance within the enemy lines: panicked higher-ups at the sudden attack, while they had a small squad of personal soldiers, they were unprepared, taken by surprise by both teams attacking on two fronts; and confused mercenaries, their quiet and boring schedules made them lose the edge of suspicion, of wariness towards what awaited them and the sheltered job with little to no action apart from a few failed escape attempts by the subjects.

“Delta 0-1 moving in,” Ghost mumbled into the coms, his team following him closely, rifle held tightly with the muzzle pointed forward as they crossed the threshold of section C, heading towards the one holding the monster subjects.

They left behind them groups of bodies, slumped over the walls or limp on the ground, blood painting the sterilised and glossy walls, turning the once white hall into a grotesque place, dead bodies covering the length of the corridor like the ones they walked through before, leaving the stench of death that even the Marines could sniff out. It wasn’t clean - they weren’t aiming for it to be clean - but they wouldn’t need it to be clean when the Laswell would send a clean-up team to deal with this, Ghost would steal a bite before they arrived, quenching his hunger for revenge with them.

A few guards stayed to watch over the cells, doors unlocked by a keycard that most guards kept in their back pocket, Ghost would have to take one off a dead body. Under Ghost’s cover, Soap dashed to the other side of the hall, taking a few with him to corner the mercenaries, boxing them into a closed hallway until they all died. Despite a few of the Marines taking shots, bruising the skin under their plate, black and blue blossoming like a bloody flower under the thin layer of skin, they kept their heads high and minds clear, moving forward without a misstep or hesitation. Soap swiped a few cards from the bodies, throwing one to Ghost.

“Delta 0-1 to Watcher, can you hear me?”

“Solid copy, Ghost,” Laswell voice rang out clearly, reaching his ears in seconds.

“We found the cells,” his eyes roved over them, white paint over thick, cement walls to hold whatever they locked into the cells, perhaps the children the saw or the big one, C34.

“Do you have the keycards?”

“Affirm,” Ghost growled slowly, hearing Laswell's confirmation to continue. “Going in.”

He tapped the pad, a loud beep ringing in their ears as the lock’s mechanism creaked to life, unlatching from its metal hold to let them in. Both he and Soap walked in, leaving the others to watch their backs while they surveyed the first room. It was dimly lit as it was bare of any decorations apart from a visible toilet, a small sink and a few metal beds. It looked like any usual cells they came across, made barren and empty of anything useful to prevent the prisoners from escaping or causing a ruckus, but the people they kept in these cells were children. Soap swore under his breath at the sight of children huddled together, seemingly no older than 12, he lowered his rifle. They were backed into a corner, three older kids holding a younger one in their arms, protecting her from them, from whoever meant to harm these children.

They looked malnourished, left to slowly rot in these cement boxes until the scientist found something worthwhile in them, their cheeks sunken in, eyes droopy and swollen with bruises - they were beaten, it made something ugly rear its head inside Ghost dead heart - and lips dried. One was armless, having wings that they used to cover both of their cellmates, naked with only feathers covering their body, this one looked more like a harpy than it did human. The two others had arms, both having the lower half of a mammal, neither of them was sure which four-legged mammal it was, but one had a pair of wings, while the other’s back was bare of anything.

“We’ve found the children.”

You could hear the chaos from your cell, the blaring alarm and the smell of death. The building shook from its foundation, vibration emanating from both the ground floor and the basement, just farther from your hall, the closed and sectioned-off area. They separated you from the defective ones, all your young mistakes they made after achieving success —you. They tried to recreate it, but it never came out how they wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake on their part or maybe it was the lack of a certain gene in their DNA, a subtle difference that you and the rest had. You didn’t want to know and you didn’t want them to succeed a second time, it was painful, the shift, the tests and the change, the storm of pain, terror and confusion weren’t worth this power.

You could hear the booming sound of gunfire, a loud ricochet of the bullet when the nitrocellulose sparked and sent the bullet outwards, finding its destination in the warm flesh of human guards. You usually enjoyed this kind of chaos if you knew what started it, and laughed when something caused trouble for your captors, but you were cautious of this one. You neither knew who thought to disturb the peace nor did you know who was behind this, their scents strange and the sound of steps unknown. All you knew was that their steps were heavy, out of breath but pushing their way into - what you thought to be - section C. The place they kept the young and willful.

You might be blinded by your cell, but the guards outside your confinement knew how to talk, their chatter and barking orders loud enough for you to hear through the thick walls. From them, you knew they were strangers, unknown players on your board of pawns. You didn’t know their goal, whether they were here to let you out or keep you in a cage of their making, but you knew they were a gamble on your fate. As the noise got closer, you sat down, crossed your paws and waited, cautiously awaiting to see what your verdict would be.

Strangely enough, there was a different section, separated from the other one by many gates and stricter security, but they were able to break through it. Security was concentrated in one hall as if the monster they locked at the end of this hallway was of big importance. It had higher security, stronger and thicker. Ghost wondered if it was to keep the monster in or keep people out, either way, this meant that they found the thing they first came here for: the trained and dangerous subject C34.

Ghost was apprehensive about opening this metal door, built taller than any doors he’d seen, it was as wide as it was tall, metres over what would be considered normal for a human or monster, similar to the wide gates that protected British castles, tall and imposing, but the most worrying was it’s vast amount of security measures. He thought back to the blurrier giant he saw in the picture, their shape indescribable and otherworldly, almost alien-like. His eyes met Soap’s reassuring ones, standing steadfast and unyielding to do good in the world. So with a nod, Ghost worked through the locks and scans of the heavy, metal door made to keep this cement cage closed. This door clicked loudly, echoing down the hall with ominous intent, foreseeing something damming and destructive.

Yet they hadn’t expected to see another cage within the cage, a box made of reinforced glass, large and robust and inside of it was another cage, a rough metal one with bars for walls, a sick joke of a bird’s gilded cage. It would’ve seemed almost exaggerated to have three layers - three different cages - to keep one subject safely locked up until he caught sight of the monster. Lying on the cold, metal ground with legs folded in, tail curled around them and staring at both him and Soap with cautious curiosity. It looked like a gryphon if it were more reptilian than a mammal, this monster had a human torso, a head wearing a stoic expression, dressed in rags. Where there would normally be legs was the body of a bird, an eagle perhaps from the golden-brown plumage and reptilian legs from the knee down, followed by a fully scaled back, hind legs and a strong tail. Each toe was tipped with a sharp claw, big and deadly if it got its hands on someone, it could easily rip into anyone without putting in much effort. The biggest thing about it was the folded wings, feathered and equipped with a talon. If it could fly, these wings would be powerful.

He understood why they kept it locked, it was neither man, monster or hybrid. It was a beast of human creation, a creature made to be at the peak of its condition. It was smart, he could see it, the glint in its eyes and the pursed lips, mien kept monotone and calm —observant.

What did Laswell sign them into?

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

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thetransguard · 2 days

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okay i knew it was coming but its kind of killing me how obtuse people are being towards toshiro (im not fucking calling him shuro and honestly yall should stop with that too). should he have told laios how he really felt about him, sure, yeah, but im going to go off on a limb here and suggest maybe! maybe! he's been raised in an environment where it's actually like legitimately unheard of and taboo to be very open and straight forward about his feelings. the entire party has been calling him by a name that literally isnt even his own because he is so used to quashing down his own reactions to others. like i think other poc diaspora dunmeshi fans might agree with me here but he just reads like someone whos not bothered enough to correct every microaggression thrown his way. because that shit is exhausting. and after like five hours of laios bugging him about stories of his homeland why would he have a good opinion of him. genuinely. im not saying laios is entirely at fault but neither is toshiro. i love laios too but it is Very Weird that toshiro gets the brunt of their friendship's falling out (ill circle back to this)

also to preface this i am a farcille shipper so im. not pushing for falin/toshiro. but people acting like his affection for falin is somehow not relevant or he has no devotion to falin at all is CRAZY. immediately after being teleported out he threw himself back into that dungeon and didnt eat or sleep properly to rescue her. we literally watch him collapse from it. after multiple episodes emphasizing the importance of nutrition and caring for yourself and your take away from a man willing to toss that away is that he just. doesn't care for falin? why is he in the dungeon then? answer. quickly. granted he's not as onboard with the whole black magic thing but his concerns are literally valid and before we see falin chimera he seems to have been talked down from reporting them all for it. its the proof of his concerns of the use of black magic that he decides to go up and report them at all. his bond with falin isn't nearly as strong as marcille's bond but its also not nothing. ignoring that or minimising his own sacrifices is such a nasty bad faith disservice to his character.

speaking of bonds. toshiro doesn't hate laios. guys. his last act this episode was to give laios and the rest of the party (yes, even black magic user marcille) a way out of the hole that they'd already dug for themselves. fleeing to the east and leaving falin to the elves isnt the best case scenario but it is one that lets the majority of the party survive whatever's coming. its the realistic play. is this the act of a man who hates his former colleagues? is he wishing harm and further misfortune on them? his actions speak for themselves. you guys are being way too hard on toshiro and its really fucking telling. this goes for white viewers especially

#dungeon meshi #toshiro nakamoto #ive been in both laios and toshiro's perspectives re: their interpersonal miscommunication and did you know! its actually really hard to #tell people how you really feel. shitting on toshiro for not being able to tell a fellow party member hey you're really draining my social #battery is NOT the act of evil some of you seem hellbent on interpreting it as #seph.txt

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nocreativityfornames · 1 year

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So I was thinking about the whole concept of souls and their purity in OM, and how in Lucifer's words, nice souls look like shiny jewels. So a headcanon came to mind.

What if animals were also able to sense someone's soul and purity? What if the brightest the soul, the more fascinating it becomes to every creature around it?

I can only imagine all different species reacting to MC's presence, to their soul. I can picture how every creature, even the ones known as the most deadly, would fold completely at MC's mercy.

How Henry will always swim to the part of the water tank that is closest to MC whenever they're in Levi's room, how the fish will happily follow their finger as they trace the glass, doing tricks even Levi didn't know it could do.

How when out of the house random cats will show up and start rubbing themselves against MC's legs, how they will look up at them with pleading eyes as they meow, eager to receive their pets and affection – something that fills Satan with both bafflement and unimaginable jealousy.

Dogs being walked by their owners will go frantic at the mere sight of the human, wagging their tails and dragging their demon towards MC by the leash just so they can get pets. Birds will randomly land on MC's shoulder and not leave for hours, butterflies will fly around them all day as long as they're out of the house. Rabbits, salamanders, snakes, sea monsters, chimeras, you name it. No matter the creature, MC seems to tame it the moment they make themselves present.

Even Cerberus – the Avatar of Pride's hellhound who's known for its brutality and horrifying appearance – will go from the scariest of beasts to the sweetest of puppies as soon as MC enters the room. The three-headed hound will cling to them for as long as they're around, and will start whining the moment they leave his side. Cerberus will even go as far as going against his owner's orders just to please MC, glaring daggers at Lucifer whenever he's scolding the human.

MC is loved by literally every creature, even the weird labyrinth that's apparently alive under the Devildom's earth ( if you read that one Diavolo card, you know what I'm talking about ). But MC has no idea why, they have been used to animals acting this way around them ever since they were a child, it's nothing new to them and they don't even question it.

But the brothers, and every being that can sense MC's soul knows why. Each one of them can see how bright and pure their soul is, how it emanates kindness and softness, how it drags the eyes of every living thing around them.

MC's soul exudes calmness, gentleness, and love. It shines like the brightest of stars in the darkness of the demonic kingdom and overflows with magic energy. MC's soul is unique, and looks nothing like any other the brothers – or anyone else for a fact – have seen. MC's soul captivates every demon and angel, every creature that lays their eyes upon them and senses how truly special they are.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #omswd #thoughts thoughts thoughts! (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)#☙ no creativity for names ✾

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