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About Deviant Official Beta Tester art thou player or audience?Female/United States Groups :iconstygian-shade: Stygian-Shade
The nightmare begins.
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stygian - g005 - Something Is Wrong. - leslie
When the roots break through the concrete and creep down the tower like blackened vines, Leslie steels his resolve.
The tree is hard to look at, now. It blots out the light around it, a shrouded halo of nothingness around branches that glitter in black and green and blue. It has burst forth from the little box Leslie had set up on the balcony, a little dream of what could have been spring, with unfurling hopes of flowers and fruits.
Dreams do not, as Leslie has learned, come true.
Upon its unhallowed dais, the thing Athro had left behind in Leslie's realm has not gone hungry. In its growth, its roots splintered its wooden confines, and the poisonous nature of the thing has turned the dirt to graveyard soil.
He takes the stairs up. Two by two by two, Leslie shuffles along with his heart in his belly, with feet flickering in and out of visibility with nerves. It is a slow ascent, one made longer by missing pieces and collapsed walls.
Inside, the skyscraper is dim, murky and unclean. Deca
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stygian - g004 - malignant - leslie
In the aftermath of slithering shadows and scorching fire undone, his garden grows.
It grows, it grows, and it grows.
He doesn't look at it, and yet.
And yet.
Life resumes its bland normality, despite the cancer growing in his realm.
With the weariness of the forgotten, Leslie fades into nothing. Slips out of view and existence until he is a wisp, until he is a shade, until he is a ghost in his own home. Despite it, he does not give in to the incorporeal nature of nightmare to travel from one place to the next in a flash or in a float. He does not leave his home, wretched as it is. As he is.
Restless. Aimless. Revenge had delivered unto him a future debt to be repaid, not a gift. The black sprout has grown into a sapling, with crystalline leaves sharp enough to cut. Its reflections are oil spills, and the wind on the balcony is bone-chilling, frigid.
Sometimes he wakes up and his body is there. Sometimes he wakes up and his fingers are coated in blood, dark and tacky. Som
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stygian - g003 - a gift - leslie + ember
With blackened skies and raging storms, Leslie's kingdom collapses on itself.
The miserable desert fades into nothing, and the block by block the city crumbles into dust. Green flames lick into everything: they curl up buildings and slink down sidewalks. The mediocrity of his home becomes nothing but this balcony of crumbling concrete and crunching glass.
Ember gazes upon him with all their eyes, shadows sliding across the ground at him like an oil-spill. They sink into his clothes and into his skin, clinging to him like an awful film. Leslie feels their power prickling at him as they wind around his neck in frigid loops, pressing tight.
He is a nightmare, of course. He does not need to breathe, but Leslie still wears the shape of a human, a facsimile despite the true nature stygian possessed. So he does does not need to breathe, yes, but that doesn't mean Ember's power is any less for it. Instead of asphyxiation, it becomes a game: how much can Ember exert their will, how much they ca
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stygian - g002 - desecration - leslie + ember
The darkness creeps into Leslie's kingdom with an unyielding force of desecration.
"I was trying to be generous," Ember says, green flames racing along the balcony to encircle where he still knees in a a garden slowly fading into ash. "And you've spurned me, darling. I don't appreciate it."
Leslie shrinks into himself, rain falling all around him, turning into steam as it hits the fire. No amount of water would put it out, he thinks. Almost nothing would.
He knows that he should apologize, and it lies thick on his tongue, stuck in his throat, caught in his mind. Despite his terror, he knows in his heart that he's not sorry at all. Just because he's stumbled into a web of something vast and ominous doesn't mean that he needs to prostrate himself for forgiveness.
He knows, and yet.
The flames crackled, shifting into strange and shapeless creatures that burrowed into the ash that was soil, devouring the charred bits that had been his efforts trying to take root.
"I won't tell,"
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stygian - g001 - unwanted help - leslie + ember
Ember visits Leslie, sometimes.
They come without preface or warning, a sudden appearance of black and green on grey. He knows them as a compilation of wispy green flames and too many flickering eyes, of pale skin and painted black lips tilted upwards in perpetual amusement. They are performative kindness with a perfect smile and a perfect laugh. They are powerful in a way Leslie does not-- and cannot-- understand, unable to grasp the entirety of their scale. It's like only being able to read one page of a book, the rest of it ephemeral, out of reach. Ember in totality is an illusion of someone arrestingly beautiful and demure, but an illusion nonetheless. 
They scare him in a primal, terrible way. Leslie has seen what lies beneath that veneer of tranquility, has seen the full force of their nature crackling with power and dripping with disdain. The bleating of a goat, the drag of a knife, damage done unto others with meticulous cruelty, perfectly exacted. Leslie had s
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stygian - sq 4 - tiny trouble - leslie
The world is much, much larger when you're two feet tall.
Leslie was used to being short-- it came with being the miniature version of any type of stygian. In his human form, too, he barely cleared five feet tall. Places that were not made for (or by) Leslie tended to seem vast and unwieldy.
But being stuck like he was now? Unable to talk, hardly able to run? He was the size of a treat and did not at all appreciate it. He plodded along the gingerbread brick path that led to the library, lined with rainbow tape that was now torn and aged with time. It was a long walk, now, easily twice the hike now that his proper forms had been stolen from him.
He missed Kitten. She would normally be glad to provide idle company, offering the warmth of her glow and the fondness that came with being Leslie's closest friend. Unlike many familiars, she often opted not to speak, but that didn't take away from their friendship.
A broken bridge was up ahead, with a sludgy river of flat soda beneath it. It ha
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stygian - bonus quest - no thumbs - leslie by astrapocalypse stygian - bonus quest - no thumbs - leslie :iconastrapocalypse:astrapocalypse 6 1
stygian - sq 2 - a moment in time - frieza
There would have been constellations here, once. Holes in various shapes lined the observatory's walls, carved into them once upon a time. It was impossible to tell how long ago; everything in Treatropolis seemed vaguely aged in ways that were impossible to discern, and the Galleria was no exception. All of it was run down, crumbling and worn down until it was dull and grey and flat.
It looked even more so, in the dark. At night, there were no lights to speak of in all of Treatropolis, and no moon to speak of penetrated the perpetually grey clouds. Any illumination here was offered in small pockets, little bubbles that disrupted the hazy evening skies with their glow that dotted the landscape intermittently.
Frieza was one of these little bubbles, all on their own. A collection of blue runic cards floated around them in lazy synchronicity, simmering blue in the dim, accompanied by the flickering of a ghostly flame. Behind them, Frieza's halo offered moments of searing light that slowly
:iconastrapocalypse:astrapocalypse 1 0
stygian - bonus quest - what's THIS - lurks
Lurks pressed his face to a stained glass window made of hard candy, doing his best to peek through the nearly opaque window.
"Hello!" he trilled, rapping his bony fingers against it, a burst of shadowy moths sliding out of his cloak in the process. They crept all up and down the thing, sliding in through the cracks at the top, chittering softly in perpetual whisper as they invaded the abandoned building. "No one's home," he murmured to himself, full of wonder. No one was home, in Treatropolis. No one at all, minus the critters of candy and the roving treats both feral and non.
With a cheery smile, he balled one tiny, skeletal hand and punched right through the window, laughing at his own antics with a horrible, wheezy kind of giggle. He had free reign, here, to touch as much as he wanted-- and break as much as he wanted, too. It was already dilapidated beyond repair, and he had absolutely zero supervision to speak of.
Clamoring in through the jagged candy, Lurks happily brushed sticky
:iconastrapocalypse:astrapocalypse 1 0
stygian - main quest 2 - not too late - violenca
With the clarity of of a bell ringing in absolute silence, she remembers how to remember-- again.
Who she is-- and, more importantly, what she is-- returns in a flood of memories so massive that it threatens to subsume her beneath its waves. Her name is Violenca. She lives here. In this place, she has in a home to call her own, both quaint and hard won. Painted red and orange and  decorated with candy both spicy and sour, it is a masterpiece of her own design.
The battle was over. They had won. With the shining light of their sun and the shining light of their swords, Treatropolis had vanquished the forces of nightmare once and for all. Revelry is has by all, herself included. Violenca takes to the rainbow streets, gathering up her skirts under the lanterns to swirl and dance late into the night. She laughs as flames wreath around her in all the glory of mastered witchcraft. She smiles so bright and wide that it could have matched their sun.
And then:
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stygian - main quest 2 - crybaby - leslie
When Leslie realizes what's happened, he bursts into tears.
He's smaller than ever before, and he'd never been tall to begin with, in Stygian or human form. It felt wrong and ill-fitting, to be trapped in his given shape instead of one of his own design. He couldn't pick his fur, but he could pick his clothes. He couldn't hold onto things with paws like he could with hands, and it didn't matter that he could do it with power instead.
So, he sits, and is very, very small. Besides his perpetual emotions of anxiety and existential anguish, one more emotion ran through his veins:
Vicious, miserable hatred. Normally, it was directed at himself, but now it turned outwards like a lighthouse pointing its beams towards a storm.
Treatropolis has been awful from the start, from the train to the arrival to the "research". With bitterness in his chest, Leslie wonders who, exactly, was behind all these invitations, behind this excavation. He knows he's not very bright,
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stygian - bonus quest: listen up, puzzle - clerise by astrapocalypse stygian - bonus quest: listen up, puzzle - clerise :iconastrapocalypse:astrapocalypse 4 3 stygian - i'm late, you see. - violenca by astrapocalypse stygian - i'm late, you see. - violenca :iconastrapocalypse:astrapocalypse 4 4
stygian - what's on your mind - cadmea
"Welcome back to The Excavation, a podcast where we delve into the weirdest, strangest nightmares that a Stygian could ask for. My name is Cadmea-- better known as The Stricken in the greater Ember and Chaos domains-- and we're here today in Treatropolis!"
The ground crunches beneath her boots, and she huffs a laugh as she takes in the sights all around her. "This place," she says, "is a fucking mess. We got here on a shitty little train made of gingerbread and icing. Packed in like a fucking can of sardines, in fact! The ride took forever, and the closer and closer we got to this place, the worse it all got."
Cadmea grimaces. "Honestly, I'm not sure why we're all here. I skipped out on getting stuck with a committee, so I'm just here. Can't catch ME being on retainer without being paid my fucking fee, I tell you what. Oh! Shit, sorry. Back to the narrating of this place for any of you lucky souls not stuck here with me."
She looks out onto the landscape with a grimace, her one good ey
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stygian - very small in a very big world - leslie
Treatropolis was unnerving enough at full size, but when shrunken down by some sort of unknown, cruel force, it was even more so.
Leslie scampers in terror away from a treat-- was it the same white one, as before? The rabbit one, with the clock on its belly? It WAS-- as he's nearly crushed underfoot. He's made it back to somewhere without much foot traffic, a dilapidated fountain that was leaking some sort of...unfortunate sweet juice. He climbs up a gummy bear that is ten times his size, miserable that he's getting sticky in the process.
In passing, he wishes for kitten, miserable as he is. She appears just-so, but unlike Leslie, the world itself hasn't shrunken her. She nuzzles at his face and he falls clean over, toppled by a warm, glowing nose. She seems rather entertained by it, and he sighs at her antics. It is rote by now, this little back and forth display of attention that he tries to pretend doesn't warm him to the bone.
"Give me a ride," he says, brushing himself off from wh
:iconastrapocalypse:astrapocalypse 1 0
stygian - what do you fear - leslie
There are a great number of things that terrify Leslie. He is not a brave soul: he would be the last person someone would expect to hold their ground, or stand strong in the face of adversity. He's jumpy, nervous, and always a little bit certain that the worst is going to happen-- because a lot of times, it does.
This is one of those times, he thinks.
Treatropolis is a miserable hovel of a place, wracked by decay and wreathed in rot. Walking along the crumbling paths fills him with a deep sense of unease, and the structures creak around him in a staccato rhythm. He's been making his way towards a fractured coliseum, but the walk is an unsteady one: along the way, he trips and stumbles over rubble, has to scale forgotten pillars of licorice and hardcandy debris.
But a sound is echoing from somewhere, squeaking and miserable, and it would almost be sonorous if it wasn't so jarring.
"Hello?" he calls, nervous. He hates the unknown, and Treatropolis reeks of it, of critters that roam in th
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to do list

Tiny Pixel Sparkle by EmpressOfRoses empties

i am blueberrygoblin's coordinator!

If you need to contact blueberrygoblin, you've come to the right place!

You can contact me by:
- noting me
- commenting on my profile
- discord at debz✨#6666
- email me at clerise @ gmail . com

I hope to help work together to solve any outstanding questions or concerns you may have!
I'm putting a few of my esk up for offers/trades, and may not trade them all. But the direction of the group is shifting-- and, if I am honest, has been for some time-- in ways that are making me increasingly uncomfortable.

And, well. If you love something, let it go. These ones deserve to have nicer homes than mine! <3

Up for trade for non-esk art:

1932 by Esk-Masterlist  1822 by Esk-Masterlist  1517 by Esk-Masterlist
would be either Stygian or humanoid depending on your preferences. Please say how much!

Contacting via comment, note, or a DM on discord (debz✨#6666) are all fine ways to contact me. Thanks!

185 by Esk-Masterlist
Written dungeons will go here <3


Are you in Stygians? Have you never had a treat? Good news! We're holding a FTO flaffle, and these cute widdle tweats are only 5 USD each!

Check it out here, there's 12 up for grabs!  { Treat FTO Flatsale-Raffle! } Open (see rules)! by Zoomutt
every day i shed a layer of Griffia Things and every day i feel more free. 
My friend is in need of some emergency help, please check her adopts out!
#5 here:
Foxdopts - CLOSED by rejamrejam

#4 here:
Deerdopts - CLOSED by rejamrejam


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KekosceChan Featured By Owner May 7, 2019  Hobbyist Digital Artist
AMItotic Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2019  Hobbyist Digital Artist
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MerrySacrament Featured By Owner May 4, 2018  Student Digital Artist
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Snorechu Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
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VerysArt Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
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Please pay attention on these info, before ordering.
Important Info
• The order of these are first paid, first served
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• I have provided a "order form" at the bottom of this journal, please use it.
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Art Commishes - Points and Paypal [OPEN]Hiho everyone ♥
Since I got better at drawing, this is my commisshes pricelist!
Please pay attention on these info, before ordering.
Important Info

• My PayPal e-mail is:
• The order of these are first paid, first served
• The further down you are on the list, the longer you'll have to wait for your order
• I have provided a "order form" at the bottom of this journal, please use it.
IMPORTANT: The prices may be increased depending on the complexity of your order!!
Additional characters cost the same as the original price (Example: 2 Headshots $12 = $24), that includes characters together on the same image.
If you're looking for it to be commercial use, the final price will be much higher!
I can draw:
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Also, Kemonomimi Adopts Batch #1 is here!
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